Test Drives ✓

vii. aftselakhis

Note | this is not the most well thought out book in the world, nor do i plan to waste any of my time editing it. please do the both of us a favor and refrain from telling me how you think certain elements are irrational because i am not asking for your critique and i really can't be bothered with all the negativity in the comments.
DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT. simple as that.

xx tay

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s c e n e  s e v e n :

a f t s e l a k h i s

aftselakhis (n.) • the desire or impulse to do something because someone else doesn't want you to, usually to get them annoyed or upset

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"So," Peyton said, his voice trailing off at the 'o' sound for emphasis, "before you tell me what you think of the movie, how about you tell me about your present scheduling for your birthday and Christmas? I could barely even pay attention to the movie because I couldn't help but think about it."

I rolled my eyes. Partly because I had paid for that movie and his salad, and yet he only focused on the fact that he had no idea what my birthday present situation was. And the rest of my aggravation stemmed from the fact that he was just another person who was going to flip out when he realized how I do things. Because I had been asked this question many times, having to state my birthday in front of the class for two years in a row. It was early November now, so this upcoming December would make it the third.

But he was persistent in what he wanted and strived for. That was evident in the fact that he was still here, also because he had held up his frustration for so long. I could say the kiss changed his course, but then again, only he knew how long he had wanted to kiss me.

"How badly do you need to know," I asked, running a hand through my hair. We were leaving the theater, taking the steps down to the glass doors, him following me with a pep in his step. He actually enjoyed the movie, making me feel awkward because I hadn't. He was now carrying my soda in one hand with the other shirt draped over his injury as if he had shed a layer and wasn't trying to cover up the fact that he had skinned his arm really badly.

And he made it work ― no obnoxious looks or special treatment going his way whatsoever. If anyone were sending him surreptitious glances, it were girls who were trying to check him out on the sly. I, of course, defended his honor by pushing him along in line and tying his shoes for him instead of having a hungry crowd stare at his posterior when he bent over the first time. Any other time, I wouldn't be concerned about his fangirls, but he was basically disabled ― he had limited access to one of his arms ― and the way people were ogling him sexually felt objectifying and perverse.

Or maybe I was looking too into it.

But he seemed fine, perfectly calm and completely distracted by his curiosity. "I need to know now. As if a meteor was due to wipe out all life."

"Quite morbid," I said with a chuckle. Things were good, that violently angry boy miles away where he had left him. This was the Peyton Evers that I was once used to and get used to all over again. Casanova behavior ― check. Good nature and charisma ― check. Attractive physique ― check. He was every bit as charming as he could be when he wasn't focused. I could crack a joke with this Peyton and not even fear for him trying to bite my head off. "Alright, I always will keep to my promises, even if they don't have ultimatums like you put on that one."