Call Me Crazy!

Chapter Three: About to Cut a Cupid

Chapter Three! I hope whoevers reading enjoys and leave me a little feedback. Let me know what you think! Vote&Comment :)

Chapter Three:

 

About to Cut a Cupid!

 

I’m contemplating the idea of digging my way to China. Anything to escape this deep misery, anything to not be where I am right now. Though digging to China might take too long, I need something quick and painless.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lower my head until my chin rests on my chest.

“So Darren, how did you and Jer meet? Are you in college too?” Rebecca crosses her dainty legs and leans back on the pristine leather sofa, her lax posture a sheer contrast to my rigid one. Her hand is wrapped around a steaming mug of green tea but she’s not drinking it, she’s too busy staring hungrily at Darren, like a ravenous lion would a Gazelle. So much for being madly in love.

And how can she look that good severely hung-over. It must be a Messer thing. God I hate her for it.

Here I am, still dressed in these stupid shorts and I hate to think how my hair looks right now. Raising one hand discreetly, I attempt to comb through the right side. I wince immediately as my finger’s catch in a knot. That’s not happening.

“Uh, no, we met through friends at a concert. I’m not in college anymore.” He replies smoothly, though I catch him eye me quickly as I wince, fingers caught in the nest of my hair. I scrunch my face sourly back at him. Let him laugh.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca sings and I roll my eyes skyward, there’s nothing wonderful about a drop-out. I mean, he’s not old enough to have graduated surely, unless he’s super smart.

“So you dropped out?” I bluntly put it, staring daggers at him from his seat opposite me.

Rebecca winces at my frankness, her head snapping to glare at me before she throws him her uber polite smile. But she doesn’t make any attempt to correct me; she wants to know just as much as I do. Shrugging back, I continue staring at him hotly.

“I did, college was never my idea of a future.” He’s so smooth and unflappable. I want him to get angry, to have him comment say on my horrid attitude towards him, he’s weak and it irritates me.

“What are you? An artist or something? A criminal?” I widen my eyes, lips pursed tightly, but he doesn’t say anything. He just leans forward in his seat, elbows leaning on his thighs and he laughs. He gives a long and hard laugh.

Is he laughing at me?

“Are laughing at me? Did I say something funny?” I spit, the muscles in my neck tighten, and my haunches are rising.

Darren shakes his head and waves me off, like I’m a child or something. And still he laughs, like I’ve told the world’s dirtiest joke or something.

Rebecca stares at me, confusion and irritation colouring her cheeks. She stands abruptly, grabbing my arm and yanking me up with her. “We’re just gonna take this mug through to the kitchen, ‘kay?” She pipes merrily and I screw my face at her.

But she doesn’t relent, her grip tightening as she winds me out of their expansive living room and down the hall to the kitchen breezily.

Once safely behind the kitchen door she lets me go and walks away, her back to me as she drops the mug into the sink noisily and runs the cold tap. I watch her shoulders rise and fall heavily, both hands clasped tightly on the sink edge.