Chasing Ever After
Sadie.
“So I have these UMDs, wanna borrow them?” Jack offers as we’re eating lunch, his mouth still filled with grilled cheese sandwich.
How’d we end up like this, I wonder?
I really don’t quite understand why, but Annie and I ended up sharing a table with Carter Wallace Jones and Jack-oh-narcissistic-Ames. It’s been like this for a week now, began sometime after the time I got sick.
They kind of just hung out with us more often. And although I still act cold towards Jack more often than sometimes, we’re kind of, I don’t know, in a ‘calm-after-the-storm’ state.
Acting all nonchalant, even though I really am interested, I reply, “I guess? Are they any good?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay.”
That’s just about how our usual conversations go. He’s the one doing the talking; I’m the one listening and giving one-word replies.
I don’t loathe him as much before, but I still can’t find the heart in me to treat him like nothing happened. Those were my feelings after all. I liked him for about two years—that was no joke.
I sound like a bitter bitch.
Carter and Annie are as sweet as ever. Can’t say it bugs me, since Annie’s my best friend and practically my sister, but sometimes I just wish she’d get a room with her boyfriend and quit being all lovey-dovey in public.
Oh god, I really am a bitter bitch. Forgive me.
I sigh as I mindlessly take a spoonful of whatever-this-chicken-broth-soup-mushroomy-thing-is.
Jack cuts in, “Hey, you should blow on it first—“
Too late.
The damn soup-thing burns my tongue, and I mutter an unintelligible curse to myself, dropping the spoon.
“Told you so,” Jack continues matter-of-factly.
Now I’m looking at him, eyebrows raised. How could this kind of guy be a campus heartthrob? He may be smart and, okay, goddamnably attractive, but he’s…I don’t even know how to describe this! He’s clumsy, childish, goofy, corny, annoying, and utterly ridiculous.
“You’re one to talk,” I retort, noticing how stupid he looks. “You’ve got cheese on your lips. And breadcrumbs, lots of ‘em.”
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, not even bothering to wipe them with a handkerchief, as is expected of him, really. I sigh again, reach into my pocket, and hand him mine.
No particular reason at all. I just think someone like him needed to keep his image up, at least.
“What’s this?” he asks, staring at my handkerchief with some sort of awe. The mere tone of his voice irks me.
“Just take it, will you?”
“I mean, what’s this for?”
I feel my cheeks warming up. I could feel Annie and Carter looking at us…and some more prying eyes from the other tables.
Okay, fuck it.
“Forget it,” I reply acidly, averting my eyes.
Abruptly, he snatches it away from me. And he grins. The damn annoying goofy grin he always gives me, and the freaking butterflies-in-my-stomach-feeling effect it has.
How’d we end up like this, I wonder?
I really don’t quite understand why, but Annie and I ended up sharing a table with Carter Wallace Jones and Jack-oh-narcissistic-Ames. It’s been like this for a week now, began sometime after the time I got sick.
They kind of just hung out with us more often. And although I still act cold towards Jack more often than sometimes, we’re kind of, I don’t know, in a ‘calm-after-the-storm’ state.
Acting all nonchalant, even though I really am interested, I reply, “I guess? Are they any good?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay.”
That’s just about how our usual conversations go. He’s the one doing the talking; I’m the one listening and giving one-word replies.
I don’t loathe him as much before, but I still can’t find the heart in me to treat him like nothing happened. Those were my feelings after all. I liked him for about two years—that was no joke.
I sound like a bitter bitch.
Carter and Annie are as sweet as ever. Can’t say it bugs me, since Annie’s my best friend and practically my sister, but sometimes I just wish she’d get a room with her boyfriend and quit being all lovey-dovey in public.
Oh god, I really am a bitter bitch. Forgive me.
I sigh as I mindlessly take a spoonful of whatever-this-chicken-broth-soup-mushroomy-thing-is.
Jack cuts in, “Hey, you should blow on it first—“
Too late.
The damn soup-thing burns my tongue, and I mutter an unintelligible curse to myself, dropping the spoon.
“Told you so,” Jack continues matter-of-factly.
Now I’m looking at him, eyebrows raised. How could this kind of guy be a campus heartthrob? He may be smart and, okay, goddamnably attractive, but he’s…I don’t even know how to describe this! He’s clumsy, childish, goofy, corny, annoying, and utterly ridiculous.
“You’re one to talk,” I retort, noticing how stupid he looks. “You’ve got cheese on your lips. And breadcrumbs, lots of ‘em.”
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, not even bothering to wipe them with a handkerchief, as is expected of him, really. I sigh again, reach into my pocket, and hand him mine.
No particular reason at all. I just think someone like him needed to keep his image up, at least.
“What’s this?” he asks, staring at my handkerchief with some sort of awe. The mere tone of his voice irks me.
“Just take it, will you?”
“I mean, what’s this for?”
I feel my cheeks warming up. I could feel Annie and Carter looking at us…and some more prying eyes from the other tables.
Okay, fuck it.
“Forget it,” I reply acidly, averting my eyes.
Abruptly, he snatches it away from me. And he grins. The damn annoying goofy grin he always gives me, and the freaking butterflies-in-my-stomach-feeling effect it has.