Love Is Symphony |✓

| 13 |

"Langers: Cranberry Fuji."

I was on my third glass of cranberry apple juice when Imogen pulled back a chair and plopped down beside me.

"It tastes like flavored beer, but totally keeps me sober." I raised my glass, the pinkish substance sloshing inside before taking a huge gulp.

She rolled her eyes. "You're so weird."

"Not denying it."

With a defeated sigh, Imogen reached forward to grab a glass and poured herself a drink. "Why are you doing this, anyway? Was it because of Hottie?"

My lips pressed in a thin line and I looked away. Probably, I thought. No. I was most certainly sure that it was because of him, but I wouldn't tell Imogen that. It would only make me look more pathetic than I already was.

It was all because of that stupid day. The day that you brought that 'girl with a sizzling body' as Kristoff liked to call her, here in the café. It had been a total of two weeks since that day and the other fateful day when I snapped at you at the food court.

Since then, I haven't seen you drop by Infusion during my shift. Sometimes, I even went as far as checking if you enjoy cups of tea when I wasn't not around. It was literally pathetic in bold and capital letters, sparkled up with some exclamation points.

I couldn't even understand why I was feeling this way. It wasn't as if you told me you liked me and I said it back, and then suddenly you got yourself a self-esteem-crusher girlfriend. It wasn't like that. But that didn't mean I wasn't hoping a few weeks ago for us to be together. But then again, this was Los Angeles. Flirting didn't mean you like someone.

And with that thought ricocheting inside my head, I poured some more cranberry apple into my glass, filling it up until the brim and brought it to my lips. Silently hoping that it would have the same effect as an ice-cold bottle of beer, minus the hangover, of course.

I knew that drinking was never the solution to problems, especially with matters that dealt with the heart. I knew this from watching countless of romcoms and seeing my dad drunk for a straight whole week after the divorce. However, I really felt like drinking right now (minus the guilt and agony of waking up with a hangover), so I settled with the second best - juices that tasted like flavored beer.

Better than a hangover, right? Besides, it would help me boost my imagination.

"I don't know. I guess?" I shrugged, answering her question as I downed my glass and reached for the clear plastic bottle for another refill.

Imogen had her head tilted to the side, watching me with a perplexed look on her face. "Do you really like him that much to pretend to drink after your shift inside the staff room?"

A soft laugh escaped my lips. "Not much, since this isn't real beer and all. But quite close." I lifted my hand and showed her the small space between my thumb and index finger.

"Quite close, huh." She shook her head, snorting as she brought her glass to her lips.

If it wasn't close enough, then fuck, it couldn't have hurt this much.

"What happened to you two, anyway? One moment you were having this late night dates, then, the next you're trying to get yourself drunk on some fruit juice with one hundred percent vitamin C."

Imogen pointed the half-filled bottle in the middle of our small table, the words 100% Vitamin C per serving bright at the top corner of the logo.

"Hey, come to think of it. This is like - this bottle, I mean, is four servings. And I downed two servings of it, or one and a half, then it means, I got a hundred fifty or two hundred percent of vitamin C in my body," I said in awe, holding the bottle right in front of my face as I read its nurtrition facts, trying to deflect her question.

"Are you sure this juice has no alcohol?" Imogen leaned close to me and inspected my face.

I frowned. "Yes."

"Sorry. You seem a little drunk to me." She shrugged it off just like she usually did on a regular day when she wasn't freaking out. Then, she paused and pursed her lips. "You're trying to avoid my question."

Trying to act innocent wasn't the best option when it came to lying to Imogen. She'd definitely know if I was genuinely innocent or if I was just trying to avoid it. But that was what I did, anyway, hoping that maybe she'd get the hint and drop the subject.

"What? What question?"

Rolling her eyes, she leaned back into her chair and released a huff of breath. "Really? You fuckin' with me right now?"

"Imogen." I groaned. "It's stupid, okay? It's embarrassing. And just - I don't know. I don't know what happened."

"But didn't he like, text you all the time before?"

My head titled to the side as the memory of your sweet messages came to mind. Those messages that I always looked forward to every morning and every time the night rolled in, and you'd have the time to text me until one of us would fall asleep. I really thought it meant something to you as much as it did to me. Would you look at that, Sean -

I was wrong.

"He did."

Her brow raised and a look of confusion crossed her face. "Then what went wrong? Did you know that he has a girlfriend?"

"Now, I do." I remembered the look of admiration on your face when Mandy talked about her vision of how she'd help kids once she graduates.

She was the epitome of perfection that would surely lower any insecure girl's self-esteem. No wonder you like her.

"So, what now? What happens next?" Imogen asked, twirling her glass in her hand.

Grabbing my glass, I twirled it between my fingers, letting its contents slosh inside, some of it spilling out onto my hand. Then, I raised it up and tilted my head back as I let out a dry chuckle.

"Well, first, we finish this drink up and then, we hope that the next day I forget him."