Highest Rank achieved: #10 in Teen Fiction
"What the fuck do you want, Friso?" I asked, saying each word slowly.
"My condition is very easy to comply, love," he told me, his pair of steel grey eyes boring to mine as if saying I already know what he...
"Then let's ask Richard to go back to the produce section," Allison suggested and was about to turn to the debonair servant when Mrs. Hathern held her hand, stopping her.
"No, I should go. I already appreciate them for following behind us and helping us find what we needed." She shook her head in refusal. "And I like it better when I'm the one picking the mangos," she added convincingly, knowing that the rich woman would say something about being part of the gentlemen's job.
"Oh, all right." Although she was always insistent, the other woman gave in. "But we should go together. You might get lost," she remarked. She held Mrs. Hathern's hand and proceeded to snatch her away from the line.
Friso shook his head dismissively. It was his mother who had the higher probability of getting lost in a place like this. This was the result of his father, Hades, coddling his wife too much. In fact, Hades always wanted a sibling for Friso but his mother couldn't handle the pains of pregnancy so she didn't want to get pregnant again. As a result, Hades indulged her in ways more than a thousand while she coddled her son way too much. He hated the way she treated him like he was still a child, but he didn't want to upset her at the same time.
"But how about Richard and the kids..." Vanessa's mother asked while being dragged away, looking at them concerningly.
"I shall come along, Mistress. Lancelot shall take care of the Young Master and Miss," Richard followed behind them.
"All right, let's go." Isla had no other choice but to give in, allowing herself to be dragged away by Allison's reply.
"We will be back in a few minutes. Get along you two," the former said, pointing at both him and Vanessa.
"We will," he replied, waving at her subtly. He glanced at his beloved ex, who seemed the be more irritated than how she was earlier with her arms crossed, shoulders rigid, back slumped forward, lips pressed into a thin line, cute nostrils flaring, and brows furrowed that they could almost kiss.
He put his hands in his pockets, inching closer to her. "So, it's just the two of us left–"
"Shut up, Friso," she cut him off without looking his way. "I'm not talking to you."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, inching closer. "The line's pretty long– and hey, your mom told us to get along."
"As far as I remember, you're someone who didn't get along with me," she huffed out an exasperated breath.
Her retort shut him up. She was right. He made a mistake. He treated her crappily the moment they met again after a long time and dragged her into a mess in school. They both hurt each other back then. But it did not justify his actions toward her, especially since he wanted her back. That day, he could have offered her a coffee, sat down, and talked civilly. His surge of anger seeing the child with her was unjustified too. He allowed his presumptions to consume him. Who knew, the kid might have been her brother or someone else's child she was babysitting. He never gave her the benefit of the doubt.
But it didn't matter to him whether the child was her son, her brother, or someone she babysat. He realized he would still accept Vanessa in any form or state. He tried to get close to her, but knowing the first encounter ignited her hostility towards him, he resorted to ways that could get her to talk to him: annoy her. It was what he did when they were in middle school, always having his way with her with the same strategy since he knew she couldn't restrain bottling herself up. It was the only way he thought he could talk to and get close to her.
But that memory at the party last night proved that the plan only had one route, which was backfiring. He remembered everything that happened at the party. He could recall every detail. The most prominent among them was begging her not to leave him and even singing that Taylor Swift song that he only managed to listen to when Madison was driving him home one time. Her blurry picture remained on his phone, saved to his favorites.
If his intuition was right, Vanessa should be having a bit of a soft spot for him right now. Soft enough for her to tell the popular kids that they were childhood friends. God knew how happy he was when she assured him she wouldn't leave him. It was for the sake of comforting his sorry self. The news of her announcing their past, treasured relationship elevated his elation. It felt like a milestone for him. However, little did he know that Vanessa did it prior to meeting him in his room and only did it to do some power-tripping against the sore thumb in the flock. Meanwhile, his friends agreed to provide him with a lack of context for funsies.
Seeing how she softened up with him and after a few smacks from Lazarus himself, plans changed right away. At the moment, all he wanted was to correct his mistakes. He wanted to get along with her. Then, he would take the opportunity and sweep her off her feet once again.
"Young Master, Miss. I've brought the cuts." Lancelot suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bringing the said meat inside a container. "3 pounds of pork ribs." He placed the container in the push cart gently. Friso glared at the young butler. The latter turned in the other direction, realizing that he just made a mistake.
He looked at Vanessa again when he heard her groan. Even the sound of her groaning was music to his ear. She was a siren, and he was a sailor willing to drown. Albeit, this siren resented him. "Maxim texted," she spoke while looking at her phone. "He's asking for certain materials that we need for the notebook."
"What for?" he immediately asked, taking the opportunity the talk to her.
"He said we ran out of some materials and need more of it. Oh, he's sending a list," she replied typing on her phone, clicking her tongue. "Dammit, is he working on the notebook already? I thought we agreed to finish it together?"
Together. He knew she was talking about the three of them. But hearing that word roll out of her tongue, and the fact that there were only the two of them in this place alone although temporarily, was giving him the feeling likened to a saint in a euphoric state.
"He's probably just checking on things. Which I think is good," he replied.
"It is, but we talked about finishing it together. I think it's unfair on his part that he does the remaining task all by himself." She shook her head in disbelief. He was at least relieved that it wasn't towards him. He couldn't afford to lose any brownie points. Albeit, he never had one.
"Let's go to a place that sells those," he prompted and held her hand to drag her out of the line. It seemed that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. "What do you think about The Station?" "What do you think about The Station?" he looked at the butler, intending to ask him for assistance when she yanked her hand away
"No," she walked past him. He followed along. "We can go to the stationery section."
"There's a stationery section at this place?" he asked. "The Station offers high-quality products you know."
"I'm too poor for that place, Friso," she retorted, her strides getting faster. He panicked. He forgot that their status and financial standing were as far as Boutique Investment Bank and JPMorgan.
"I can pa–"
"Zip it." He did.
_
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