Sour Sweet Love

Chapter Twenty

                "WHAT?" 

That was, of course, my genius answer. What do you do when a guy confesses his feelings for you? You repeat the word 'What?' until he begins to question his decision.

"I said—"

I pressed my lips together. "I know what you said."

Declan was squeamish. If he wanted to say anything more, he suppressed the urge effortlessly. I wondered what Molly would say if she knew that this was what her alleged boyfriend was up to.

"Declan," I said exasperatedly. I floundered for words, unsure of what to say. Was it okay to cave in to my senses and kiss him until our insides numbed? Or did that kind of stuff only happen in romance novels? "You're dating my best friend, for fuck's sake," I said once clarity seeped on. 

He evaded my accusations as if they did not faze him. "I only did it to get under your skin," he defended. "And it's clearly working because I know you feel the same way about me. The conversations we have—just us. We're unique, Ave."

I released a weary sigh. "I can't do this."

"You agree though," he began hesitantly. "You feel the same way about me?"

"Maybe," I said in a quiet, regretful voice. "Maybe just like one percent."

It was then that Declan began to laugh. Taken aback, I examined his movements, the way his eyes glistened in mirth as his lips released a sound personifying his shock and amusement. "Avery," he released in between fits of uncontrollable laughter. "I was only joking!"

I stared at him as he laughed—gaped. How could I have forgotten about his insensitivity?

"You know I don't believe in love, Avery," he told me, reaffirming his cynical stance. And I was allegedly the cynic. Declan's pessimism for love was beyond what I held; I was bitter about a failed relationship. For him, it sounded like something more.

And I then felt cold.

"So you like me," he reaffirmed once his laughter died down

"No," I replied quickly. A bit too quickly. "I was just playing along."

Though unconvinced, he said, "Good. Don't fall in love with me, okay?"

I nodded my head in assurance as if that was something I could help. As if love was voluntary. As if we chose to love those who would never love us in return. As if we chose the heartache and emotional torment. With these thoughts in mind, I looked at him in dismay, hoping that the intensity of my gaze made him realize how bizarre he sounded. I played along anyway.

"I promise to never fall in love with you," I mumbled, crossing my fingers for having lied.

"You better not."

"I won't."

"Good."

"Avery? Avery Wilson?" emerged a voice from the loud speaker, interrupting our motions. "Please report to the main office. Avery Wilson."

"That's my cue to leave," I said when the voice died off.

He nodded. "So maybe it is."

"Come with me?" I pleaded. He was in his humanitarian mood, I suppose, because he obediently trailed behind me on our journey to the main office. When there, the secretary told me that I had a call waiting for me in the phone room. Giving Declan a wave of momentary farewell, I found myself inside with a phone to my ears. "Hello?"

"Avery!" Mom's voice emerged from the other end of the line. My face fell. "How are you dear?"

"Mom," I sneered. "I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"