If Cupid Had A Heart [MAJOR EDITING]

Chapter 11 - Part 2

“Yeah, that’s who I meant.” Jason’s words kept repeating in my head. Again and again, like a song on repeat. What did he mean by that? I’ve been trying to figure it out since this morning and it’s been driving me crazy! Does he know that Dylan kissed me?  But he can’t possibly know that, can he?

Oh God, this isn’t good. If he finds out, or if he already knows, then I’m completely screwed. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Can’t I just, I don’t know. Have a crush on someone and have them like me back instead of having all this drama, too. It really makes my head hurt.

Have you ever just sat down and start wondering what it would be like for your crush to like you back? That was exactly what I was doing right now, but given the situation with what happened with Dylan, it was all too complicated.

If only Jason just asked me out or something like that, things would be so much easier. But, I can’t even figure him out. Like, what the hell goes on in his head? One second he’s nice then the next he’s all bitter and cold. I sometimes think that he has a personality disorder or something.

I groaned. “Ugh.”

“What’s up with you?” Emma asked raising an eyebrow at me while she propped herself up on my sofa.

“Everything is just so complicated.” I sighed heavily. What an understatement.

“Tell me about it,” she replied and rolled her eyes. She grabbed the TV remote and flipped through numerous channels before deciding to watch another episode of ‘Plain Jane’.

“Really, Emma? Plain Jane?” I whined but she only nodded eagerly and winked. Sigh.

“We should definitely try to have our own Plain Jane episode.” Emma suggested with an evil grin plastered on her face.

“No.” I said firmly. There is no way on Earth I’m going to let that happen. That’s a catastrophe waiting to happen. “Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” she smiled.

“What can be arranged?” Dylan asked, leaning on the door frame while he scratched his head with his left hand and had shoved the other in his pocket.

“Nothing,” I dismissed, at the same time that Emma squealed “Something!”

He shook his head and squinted at the direction of the TV. “You watch that crap?”

There was a loud gasp, “Crap?! It’s not crap! How dare you!” Emma defended her favourite TV show.

“Calm down, Em. He’s a guy, he doesn’t watch this stuff.” I explained while trying to supress my laughter from the sight of her face. She looked like she’s just been smacked in the face with a carrot or something completely random.

“Still!” she exclaimed.

Dylan coughed, “Can you stop shouting? Your voice is going to make me deaf.” He complained and Emma threw a pillow at him while muttering blasphemes under her breathe and I chuckled.

“Be glad you have the privilege of hearing my voice.” Emma said smugly.

He coughed again, “Yeah, whatever. I’m going back to bed. I don’t feel too good.”

“Yeah, you look sick, no offense or anything.” I said looking at him with worry.

Oh no. He’s sick and he kissed me. Does that mean I’ll get sick, too? Ew.

Snap out of it, Avery! I told myself. The poor guy is sick! My conscience scolded.

“Must be one hell of a hang-over.” Emma commented but Dylan only groaned.