The Boyfriend Factory

Chapter Twelve

I brushed the excess sugar off a jam doughnut and hesitantly took a bite. Although, I wasn't much focused on the treat today. I had way too much on my mind, none of which had anything to do with finishing one of my favourite foods. All of which had to do with thou-who-shan't-be-named.

Every time I thought of him there was this weird flutter feeling in my gut. Whenever it would happen I felt like throwing up. I was certain I wasn't on my period – TMI, but I checked – so I didn't really know what was causing this weird mood swing.

There was something else I'd also realized. I was starting to pretend I hadn't seen Ethan's texts, I wouldn't pick up his calls even though strangely I'd listen to the voicemails, and whenever I saw him the the hallway I'd go running in the other direction.

Basically, I was avoiding Mr Greek God.

Why you ask? I had no idea.

What had happened before wasn't seeming to help so much either. The image of Ethan and Brianna, who was referenced to as Bri by Ethan, which I'd never known of, was still very much burned into my consciousness. Seriously, who wants the image of two people making out to stick with you for the rest of your life? Send help.

A part of me felt . . . uncomfortable. I didn't really know how to place it, but I didn't feel ok with the knowledge of what I'd seen and I couldn't quite understand why. I mean, sure, perfectly normal for any of Ethan's bloodhounds to spontaneously combust or something after seeing a scene like that, but Eve Castro? Not so much. So what exactly was bugging me?

Brianna and Ethan were making up – and out apparently – slowly, which meant my job was working. This also meant my job was coming to an end. I grimaced thinking about it, then chewed on my lip confused by the confliction of emotions.

I sighed and took another bite of my doughnut.

Violet stared at me with a raised brow.

"You're making those weird expressions again. Except this time they're a lot weirder," she pointed out. "Don't tell me we finally have to take you to a mental institution. Who's going to get fat on doughnuts with me?"

I gave her a weird look but she just chuckled.

"Sighing is like your trademark or something now," Violet said as she sketched out a new runway dress design. This one seemed to be ankle length and lined with teddy bear heads at the bottom. Cool, if you were planning on designing for a Miley Cyrus concert I guess. Her unique visions were indeed very . . . unique. But I loved her for that of course.

I shrugged and chewed absently.

"There's just a lot on my mind," I said. Violet focused on her sketching, although at the same time her full attention was on me. It was like she could read my expressions without looking up.

"Alright, well, that's what best friends are for, correct?" she put out. "So hit me with it. And if you tell me you're pregnant – I support you no matter what – but damn girl that's a little much." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not pregnant."

"Boy trouble?" she suggested. I twisted my lips at the mention and hesitated. Violet caught the small shift and looked up with curious eyes, setting her pencil down with a sly grin. "Boy trouble it is."

"No – well, yes, but no," I stumbled over my words as she watched with an amused expression. I scowled at her, embarrassed that I was suddenly getting a blood rush. "Don't turn this into one of your fantasy things, alright?" Violet threw up her hands in mock defensiveness and tried to keep her face straight.