The Boy Who Stole My Dreams

Chapter 14: Did I say B? Make it a C.

"I know I could lie, but I won't lie to you

Wherever I go, you're the ghost in the room

I don't even try looking for something new

Cause wherever I go, I'll be looking for you."

~ One Republic
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What . Did. He. Mean.?

Yeah those were the four words controlling my life right now, more than Jeanine Matthews ever got around to doing in Divergent. I know, I have a tendency to over analyse. Trust me, I've been criticised a lot for it and know for a fact that I over think. If I am silent for a long time, with my lips pursed and my eyes slowly narrowing, chances are, you caught me over analysing a simple situation. That or planning out the murder of the next author who kills his/ her main characters. I mean who does that?

Uhh, John Green, Ver... Yeah I don't want to spoil it for you.

So getting back to the point, ever since Skyler's rather cryptic expression of gratitude, every thought and action of mine went back to thinking what he could've meant. I tried writing a new chapter to distract myself, but writing about Evan took me back to Skyler. All I could write out was "Chapter" as I couldn't for the life of me even write out the chapter number before diverting off topic.

He can't do this to me! That boy had all sorts of mysteries hidden within his deep blue eyes. Oh those eyes...

Focus, you Ape!

The curiosity was killing me as I only hoped I wasn't a cat. Great. My jokes aren't even worth a grin now. Since yesterday I have had the message typed out on my phone, short of one touch on the send button.

What do you mean by 'Thank you April, you don't know for what do you?'

All of you must be thinking 'Nah, April ain't gonna send that!'

Well, I must say..

You're right. Unfortunately.

One glance at the flower clock in my room and I want to smack myself in the face for wasting so much time. It was eleven thirty or 'half past eleven' *cue British accent*.

Anytime now, I should be getting a call to join the 'Family Sunday Brunch'.

It was one tradition we revived after the split up. Mum used to insist on brunching together as a family at least on Sundays, considering the fact that we weren't otherwise quite the tight knit family. Even after the split up, Axl and I tried to keep it going as it was the only occasion which would remind us that we still had Dad.

I went downstairs following the smell of pancakes. As usual, everyone was seated in their own seats with a heap of pancakes in front of them. I topped mine with butter unlike the rest of my family with extreme sweet teeth and a partiality towards maple syrup. Instead of digging right in, I played around with the butter till it melted into the pores of the pancake. The pancake was about to receive a stab right down the centre if Axl hadn't spoken.

"What's up with the grumpy Ape this  morning?"

"Writers block." I muttered without lifting my murderous gaze from the stack of pancakes.

"Oh well then." He went back to serving his tummy rather than prying into his crazy little sisters problems.

Dad had his face buried into the newspaper with an expression that screamed 'I couldn't care less'.