❝I think you're my favorite person.❞
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Since childhood, Lila's had her mind set on what she wants. And now in her senior year, that's getting into West Michigan State University. But her overbearing...
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AFTER THE THIRD cup of ice cream, Lila shakes her head.
"Nope, no more. I can't do it," she shoves the cup of ice cream away, glaring at me. "It tastes like cement."
I blink, "Cement? God, I feel sorry for you," I scoop the last of the cookie dough ice cream out of the cup and shovel it into my mouth, groaning in ecstasy.
"Can't help that my taste buds are superior," Lila hums, gathering the used spoons and cups into a pile.
"You clearly don't know the meaning of superior if that's your usage of it," I retort, snorting slightly.
She glances away for a moment, and begins to carry our stuff to the trash. I inhale sharply, cringing when I remember yesterday.
That was a train wreck. And I'm only lucky that Lila hasn't said anything about it. Yet.
I know this pattern by now though, it's only a matter of time.
I hope she continues not to, though. I don't want to drag her into my messes, if I can help it. There are already too many people involved, carrying around some of my weight. Weight that I should be carrying alone. No one else.
So even if my life depends on it, I will not let Lila carry any of that weight. No matter how heavy.
I sigh, watching as she returns to our table, clearing my thoughts away.
I realize that the second half of school would begin in about five minutes, I don't know if Lila knows of this or not. I know for a fact the girl is obsessed with her track record. And I also know that she does everything in her power to make sure it's perfect (minus her almost daily arguments with Mr. Wilson).
I must admit, that's the only thing I look forward to in that class. She always has some sort of comeback ready, to fire at will.
I'm surprised Mr. Wilson hasn't failed her out of spite.
I lean forward in my seat and say, "You ready to head back?"
For a moment, she hesitates, and my brows dip down, waiting for her response. "Yeah," she sighs. "Let's go."
Whatever else she had been about to say, I'll never know. I wave goodbye to Marcus, the owner of this small ice cream parlor. Also the guy that lets me have two cups of ice cream for free each time I come here. Grace always enjoys that.
I feel the rain droplets hit the crown of my head, dampening my hair. Lila looks skeptically around and I quickly shrug my jacket off, tossing it to her.
"Use that," I whisper.
She looks down at it for a moment, "Thanks," she murmurs, then, "But remind me to give it back. I still have your jersey too."
I shake my head as we round the corner to my car. "Keep the jersey. That one's old anyway."
She looks thoughtful for a moment, opening the passenger door before pausing. "What would I do with your jersey?"
