248 Days

April 19th

I had hit an all-time low; reached peak levels of pathetic. Furiously stabbing my fork into my bowl of strawberries, I was very much aware of my painfully obvious pining. Still... I didn't tear my gaze away from the kitchen patio's window. Sat in my old, holey pyjamas, morning hair its usual mess, it took a ridiculous amount of time to finish my breakfast. My current, unkept state did nothing to boost my ego as I fixed an intense gaze on the outside beauty.

     Tiredly descending the stairs that morning, I fell into one of the wooden kitchen chairs, fatigue vanishing as soon as my suddenly wide eyes fell on Grayson. Always up at the crack of dawn, while I could be compared to a zombie, Grayson was wide awake and working out in the backyard. It was quite a sight to see. I didn't think I'd ever get over the shame if he caught me staring, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. I did mention pathetic, right?

     Removing his damp gray shirt as he fell into another set of push-ups, I groaned loudly and let my head smack against the kitchen table. What had I done to deserve this? Just when I thought I had suffered enough, I had to be thrown a tragic, never to exist, love story. I felt as though Willow had promised me another batch of pecan tassies, baked them in front of me and then placed them in a locked, glass box. I could smell and admire the perfectly baked tassies, but not taste them. And rather than being angry with Willow for showing me something I couldn't have; I was angry with myself for wanting the damn tassies so badly.

     "You look properly miserable," Claire commented, taking a seat next to me.

     Sipping her coffee, blue eyes shone mischievously. Considering I spent so much time with her oblivious son, it always surprised me that she was an exceptionally perceptive person. Though truthfully, not much perception was required to recognise my predicament. Any more obvious, and I'd be drooling at the sight of him. I wiped the corner of my mouth just to be safe.

     "I am no more miserable than usual," I lied. "It's a beautiful day, I'm just not a morning person."

     "It's beautiful outside, isn't it?" She made no move to hide the insinuations in her tone.

     "You're not very nice," I complained.

     "And you're not very subtle."

     Cheeks growing pink, I shot her an accusing look. She remained as amused.

     "Come on, Claire," I whined, drawing out her name. "You were so good to me. I really liked you, but now it seems you're as much of a pain as your son."

     Very softly she laughed. "But you far from dislike my son."

     "Touché," I muttered, embarrassed gaze involuntarily returning to the patio door. "But I'd really rather not have this chat." Especially not with her.

     Claire nodded, attention turned to her toast, but her barely noticeable smirk told me she wasn't done. It was the same up to no good smile, Grayson always wore.

     "I see you're as resentful of your feelings as you were then."

     "Damn." I dropped my fork with an exasperated sigh. I knew it. I was falling back into my old ways. Of course, I had had a crush on him.

     "Luckily he's as oblivious as I'm assuming he was then." I stared at my plate.

     "Even more so," she snorted. "I'm sorry he's so dense. I really don't understand how he could possibly still not have a clue."

     I felt so much better now that I knew the extent of my obvious feelings (please note the sarcasm). Claire made it sound as if Alexa likes Grayson was a reoccurring message blasted during morning school announcements.