𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟐𝟗

emerson

"Can you please take a bite, you're low-key stressing me out," Andrew said with a half-smile, gesturing towards the untouched pizza on my plate. I let out a sigh and glanced down at the food, my appetite nowhere to be found. But then again, when was I ever in the mood to eat?

Florence, seated beside me, offered a comforting smile. "Take your time," she murmured softly, sliding a glass of water my way.

"I have a question for you," Andrew directed towards me, drawing my attention. I hummed in response and turned to face him, curious about his inquiry. "How did you pass your English and math tests? You only joined three weeks ago," he pointed out, his curiosity evident in his furrowed brows.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, I've always loved writing, and solving a math equation can be surprisingly enjoyable," I replied with a faint smile. Andrew's perplexed expression only deepened.

"Are we learning the same thing or what?" He asked, a mixture of amusement and confusion evident in his tone. I chuckled softly, realizing how my enthusiasm for subjects like English and Math might seem out of the ordinary. "Maybe I just have a different way of looking at things," I offered, trying to ease the tension.

Florence chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, some people just have a knack for certain subjects, right?" She nudged me playfully.

"Yeah, I guess so," Andrew conceded, still trying to wrap his head around my approach to academics. I chuckled softly at Andrew's playful confusion, appreciating the lighthearted banter in the midst of our conversation. Despite his initial jest, his next question brought a different tone to the moment.

"What happened between you and Avery?" Andrew inquired, his tone shifting to one of genuine concern. His words lingered in the air, laden with curiosity yet coupled with an understanding that he wouldn't press if I didn't want to share.

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. The memory of the recent discord between Avery and me was still raw, but Andrew had always been a reliable friend.

I shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the half-truth I'd just spun resting heavily on my conscience. Andrew's casual response eased the tension, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," I replied, trying to maintain a façade of normalcy as I toyed with my food. My thoughts lingered on the fabrications I'd woven, a part of me wishing things were as simple as I had portrayed.

Andrew rinsed his plate in the sink, the clinking of dishes filling the air as he began to wash it. "Sorry, Avery's been rude. She's actually nice; just going through a lot," he mentioned, his voice carrying a note of understanding.

I nodded in agreement, the memories of our strained interaction in the storage room flashing through my mind. "Yeah, I get it. We all have our ways of dealing with stuff," I murmured, hoping to divert the conversation away from the uncomfortable subject.

Andrew dried his hands, casting a glance my way. "You're so understanding, it's amazing," he complimented, a hint of admiration in his voice. "It's called the Pugh effect," Florence teased, entering the kitchen with a smirk on her face. "If only I could experience that," Andrew quipped, and Florence chuckled. "You're funny," she said, giving Andrew a playful tap on the shoulder. "Why, thank you," Andrew replied with mock formality, bowing slightly, eliciting a laugh from Florence.