I Hate You Like I Hate Tuna

I was sitting with Damien in a small diner by my office building.

"Sooo.." I said sipping my coffee.

"Sooo...." He mimicked.

I smiled. "How's Chicago?" I questioned.

"Crime ridden, and bustling," He said smiling.

"Ah so it hasn't changed?"

"Not one bit,"

"What about you? Heard you had a infatuation with the Pete Wentz, thought you hated them?"

"Yeah funny story, but I'm not doing anything with him anymore," I said with a small blush.

"What he do?" He asked sincerly.

"He, well he claims he didn't, but, I dunno, I think he cheated, but his phone was stolen, and he had proof, I saw, but its jsut irking me, then Patrick asked me out, and I was like eh whatever, and then he showed up to our date, late with a hickey-"

"Breathe Kierra!" Damien said to me.

I took a breath. "Yeah, it was complicated.

"I can tell, but if you ask me, scum like them don't deserve girls like you,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I think your right."

"I know I'm right."

He payed our bill and stood up.

"I missed you," He said as we slowly walked back.

"Oddly, I have too,"

"L.A sure is nice,"

"Yeah, I miss the snow though,"

"I guess that means you should take a vacation and fly home with me," He said flashing two plane tickets from his pocket.

I smiled. "You bought me a plane ticket?"

"Mmmhmm"

"I think I might have to accept."

"I think so,"

"So I'm ging home for christmas?"

"That you are."