Take Me Away | ✔️

5. MEMORY

THE BOTH OF US were sitting on the couch, inches away from each other after he turned off the television. "Oh come on," I rolled my eyes. "They weren't on a break!"

          He shook his head, disagreeing with me. "They were on a break! Therefore, Ross sleeping with that girl was valid and Rachel shouldn't have gotten angry at him."

          We were talking for a while about our likes and dislikes while we were icing his bruise but when the pain was finally subsiding, we decided to watch the season three of Friends. Apparently, Travis just started on the series (which was definitely a crime), so I decided to watch with him, hugging a pillow while he was eating the fresh batch of cupcakes that Mrs. Aries gave us. He actually treated it like a popcorn, popping it on his mouth easily.

          You could say that we stopped watching the second I said openly that Ross was wrong and that they weren't really on a break so what he did was cheating. He completely lost it—stopped eating his cupcake, placed it down on the coffee table in front of us, just to talk to me seriously.

          It has been about ten minutes and we were still going back and forth.

          "She deserved to get angry, are you kidding me?" I scoffed. "She said they should take a break, it was a mistake, Ross called and said they should stop fighting, he got mad because he heard that Mark guy on the phone when there wasn't even a reason to get jealous with, and he sleeps with the girl! It is his fault and it is still not a break, I'm right!"

          "No," He argued. "In the first place, Rachel didn't have to talk to Mark. She could have just asked to be moved away from his desk. They didn't have to sit in front of each other. It was her fault."

          He did not just say that. "Ross was a jealous freak! Rachel didn't owe him anything. If she had said that nothing was going on and he just trusted her, then, they wouldn't be in the difficult pickle in the first place."

          His brows furrowed, the corner of his lips turning upward. "Did you just say pickle?"

          Waving dismissively, I shrugged. "What? It sounded right."

          He was now giving me full-blown grin. "You're fucking weird, Sammy."

          "Says the guy who doesn't like ice cream," Smirking, I replied. "I bet you don't even like pineapples on your pizza, huh?"

          He didn't answer, just staring at me.

          My eyes widened in stun. "Really?"

          After he raised his hands up in surrender, he took his half-eaten cupcake and continued chomping on it. "Listen, pineapples do not belong on pizza. They're distasteful, are you kidding? And so what if I don't like them, many of people don't."

          My brother likes pineapples on a pizza, my mom likes them, and many people like those type of pizza. I mean, who likes just ham on a pizza? That's disrespectful to the food committee which everyone is a part of.

          Okay, even I knew that that was a dumb statement.

          "You're so plain!" I whined. "Please tell me you at least dip your fries on your milkshake."

          His brows furrowed at me, scoffing. "Of course, I'm not crazy."

          Thank God. At least there's some hope left in him. At the mention of fries and milkshake, I couldn't help but feel sad from the painful memories that was flashing through my eyes. It has been a long ass time since I had milkshakes and fries and I was craving for it.