Curing His Love Allergy

Chapter 4 - The Waterfall

I decided on a nice, bright yellow summer dress and captured my curls in a sleek ponytail, then headed next door for lunch. My life is a mess, but at least I have friendly neighbors, right?

As I was about to ring the doorbell, Mrs. Williams quickly opened the door and startled me. There she stood, as beautiful as ever, with a smile lighting up the whole house. She quickly ushered me into her abode. "Welcome, Tiara, to my home officially," she gushed.

"Thank you for the invitation, ma'am."

"Tiara, please, I insist you call me Diana," she said mockingly.

"Okay, Diana..."

"France is setting the table; you could go say hi until the food is done." I scurried over to France, deciding not to feel so awkward around him like I was with his mom.

"Hi," I shyly said.

"Hey Tee... by the way, can I call you Tee? Or Teetee?" he playfully countered.

"No, my name is Tiara, and that is what you should call me," I regarded him coldly. The reason for this is because my mom used to call me Teetee. I wanted that to be her thing.

"Tiara, is something wrong?" He regarded me with remorse, like he knew something I didn't. His brows furrowed and his lips transformed into a pout, and I immediately felt bad for snapping at him when he was nothing but kind to me. No one knew my mom died around here, but I didn't even want them to know because they would treat me with pity, and I hated pity.

"I'm totally fine. It's that someone special used to call me that, and I want it to be that they are the only one to call me that."

"Don't worry," he said playfully, that beautiful smile he shared with his mom appearing again. "We'll get you a nickname that only I know soon."

"Sure," I said, knowing full well that that's not going to happen.

"Guys, lunch is served," Diana said, coming in with a tray of potatoes, a bowl of gravy, baked chicken, and a steaming hot casserole dish of lasagna. It smelled absolutely lovely. She ushered me into a seat beside France, and we gladly dug into our food. I thought this was a bit much for lunch, but I didn't ponder it because the food was so freaking good. I think I even moaned a little. Diana and France chuckled when they heard it.

"Pass me the gravy, please," France said. As I was giving him the gravy, it spilled all over my dress when our hands bumped together. The brown stain spread across my brightly colored dress.

"Tiara, I'm so sorry... let me help you with that," he apologized.

"It's okay; I'll just go home and clean up."

"Hey, let me make it up to you. You owe me a day out from yesterday. I'll take you to an ice cream parlor to say sorry."

I sighed. "Okay, meet me at my house in an hour." He nodded and followed me to the door, then apologized one more time.

. . .

I had to get out of this icky dress. I didn't know if the stain could come out, but I knew I had to get out of the stained garment.

After a quick shower, I looked for my blue jeans to accompany my jean jacket with a white T-shirt and white Converse, as I knew the afternoon would be quite chilly. I decided to let down my curls to feel more empowered.

I didn't really hold the gravy spill against France; we were both at fault for the spill. Our hands bumped together.

The doorbell ringing broke my train of thought. I walked toward the door, but not before grabbing my purse.