Yours Musically

22. How To Treat A Pie

Chapter Twenty Two - How To Treat A Pie

"What do you mean it looks like ass?" I argued.

Meera squinted her eyes through Facetime. "How can you not see it?"

I looked down at my t-shirt insecurely before retorting, "it's Cinderella's pumpkin ride, not ass. You just can't see it properly through the phone."

"Whatever you say. But if I were you, I'd probably go to the bathroom and wear it inside out."

I gasped. "No way. I love this t-shirt. And it doesn't look like ass."

"Sure." She nodded with feigned seriousness before looking up ahead and nodding at someone. "I gotta go, Becks. My mom's waiting to take me to the doctor."

"Let me know how it goes, okay? Bye. Take care!"

"You too. Bye."

I hung up and slid my phone into my pocket, then opened my locker and started arranging books in it while humming a random tune. A little bored, I did a quick scan of my surroundings and caught sight of a certain dark-haired musician treading down the hallway.

His eyes were fixed on me and after observing him for a few seconds, I realized he was making his way towards me. A little groan came out of me, and soon, I started recalling how he'd just acted in the music room. And that made me angry.

So, I made a quick decision to pretend to be busy and started flipping through the pages of a book as if looking for something.

He stopped right next to me, and I had to try so hard not to look at him even out of the corner of my eye.

"I need to talk to you," he announced, valiant as ever.

"About?" I asked nonchalantly while arranging my books in a random order. I prayed that he couldn't tell he had every bit of my attention when I was acting like he barely had any.

"Not here. Follow me."

I scoffed. "I'm good."

I could tell he was watching me as I tried to steady my spiral notebook against my textbook. It kept falling horizontal while I kept putting it back up vertically for some deranged reason.

He took another step towards me. Books, Rebekah. Eyes on your books.

"Are you walking or do I have to carry you?"

My eyes widened and I turned my head to him so fast, I could've made light insecure. And maybe my attention was what he'd wanted since he looked a little satisfied to have it.

"Excuse me?" I demanded.

"You heard me."

What the hell did he think of himself? Overcome with rage, I snapped my locker shut and gave him my full hostile attention.

"I must be hearing things because there's no way I just heard you threaten to carry me."

He cocked his head, baffled. "I didn't think you'd have a problem with that."

"Oh? Care to elaborate why you felt that way? Because I don't see one good reason why I wouldn't have a problem with that."

"I don't know..." Suddenly, there was a devilish gleam in his eyes. "I thought you loved being carried in my muscular arms."

My mouth went dry as I blinked up at him. Not more than an hour ago, he wanted me out of his sight and now he was teasing me over a completely unintentional compliment I'd given him when I was drunk. What was wrong with him?