I don't even pretend to mask my annoyance when I say, "Don't call me that."
"You liked it when I said it last night though." He mutters, his voice so low that only me and Lyn hear it.
I almost spit out the water I'm drinking, because what the fuck?
Lyn raises her brow, stifling a grin. "So... Exactly what happened on that date, Ash?"
"It's not what you think!" I sputter out. I cannot believe this guy.
"Why would you say that?!" I hiss at him, not even caring about the professor eyeing me with distaste because I interrupted the session, which, newsflash, no one was paying attention anyway.
"I didn't say anything, it's your mind that's in the gutter, sweetheart." He says, feigning innocence.
Sometimes I wonder what grudge the universe has against me. Maybe I wronged someone in my past life and now they have sent this menace as punishment.
The only plus side- though I'd hardly call it that- to this endless bickering is that the existence of Brandon completely slips off my brain. Maybe it's a downside too, because the realisation hits harder everytime I see him lurking in the halls with his friends. His eyes never leave mine, and I have to resist the urge to either throw up or throw a punch in his face. I did make it a point to block the number that sent the text, erasing it from my phone.
Unfortunately, I couldn't erase it from my mind.
Lyn- bless that woman- is either always with me, or deploys her friends to walk me to and from classes. Whether that makes me look weak or supported, I don't know, but I'm glad for the company it gives me. I wish I would say I'm one of those badass women who is not affected by creepy guys like Brandon, but I'm not. The paranoia never escapes me, like I'm bound by these shackles of fear and they are getting tighter by the minute. I try not to think about it most of the time, but when I'm alone with my thoughts, the fear intensifies tenfold. Maybe that's why I crave the company, it keeps my brain from occupying those thoughts.
This time though, Aiden is 'walking' me to class, because we both have algebra. Talk about torture.
I will admit- never aloud- that I'd rather suffer due to Aiden's obnoxious antics than be alone and overthink about, well, everything. So I try to distract myself by engaging in my not-so-favourite pastime: being annoyed by Aiden.
"Why the fuck did you say that in class earlier?!"
"Say what?" He asks, smirking.
"Oh, you very well know what I'm talking about."
"Care to remind me?"
That shuts me up, because I'd rather give up poptarts than repeat what he said to me in class. Maybe not forever, but you get the idea. My dislike for Aiden weighs much more than my sheer love for poptarts.
"There he goes." He suddenly mutters with distaste. I follow his gaze to see Brandon, this time not staring at me- thank god- but still being his creepy self. I automatically shift closer to Aiden.
Trauma response maybe? Nothing else, god no.
"Why does he like me anyway? I mean, we barely know each other and I only ran into him like, once. We never talked again." I wonder aloud.
"Meh. He probably only likes you because of the way you look. Once he gets to know you personally, I'm pretty sure he'll be disgusted."
"Oh... So you're saying I look good?" I grin.
Now it was Aiden's turn to be flustered. Take that, motherfucker.
"That's not what I- you know what, fine. Yes, you do."
"What." Okay, not expected.
I thought he'd call me the uglier version of the Wicked Witch of the West, but I'm surprised.
"I said it at the Diner too, you oaf. Just because we dislike each other doesn't mean I'm blind." He scoffs.
"Oh." Oh indeed.
And then I couldn't say anything else because we're already here, and the professor is ushering everyone in.
Aiden probably just said it to mess with me, right? It's not that serious anyway. Right?
-----
The days roll by, the date of Claire's party coming closer. It seems like the whole grade knows and is buzzing with anticipation at the thought.
"I have absolutely nothing to wear!" Katelyn whines, pointing to the enormous heap of clothes on my bed. Typical Kate. She always tries on so many outfits just to decide on the first one she tried on.
As for me, I will wear anything as long as it is comfortable and not too revealing. As we're trying on dresses one by one, a thought occurs to me.
"Lyn..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Brandon will be there?" I mutter. The thought of running into him- at a party of all places- make me nauseous.
Lyn makes a disgusted face. "Screw that dickhead. I'm sure Claire has enough decency to not invite the pot-smoker to her house."
Then Lyn tells me to change the topic, saying that even hearing his name makes her head ache. Which is valid. So I do just that.
As expected, Katelyn decides to wear the silver fitted dress that was the first one she had tried on. It fell just above her knee, simple and elegant. She wore a cropped jacket because, let's face it, the biting cold weather is the arch nemesis of knee- length dresses. Which is very unfair if all a girl wants to do is dress up.
I tell her she looks gorgeous, as always.
Sometimes- no- all the time, I wonder what I did to deserve her friendship. The first time we met, I was in awe of her confidence and the way she used to attract people's attention by simply existing. Then she gave me a toothy smile, told me I was the only one not affected by 'the Matrix', and declared me her best friend. I didn't even know what 'The Matrix' was, but I'm so happy we were paired together for the science project back when we were ten.
"Now... Let's dress you up, babe." Katelyn announces, with a rather devilish glint in her eye.
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