Imaginary Boyfriend

Chapter 30:

            “You made up with Sar—?”

            “Yes,” I snapped, because the fact that he’d repeated that question seventeen times—believe me, I counted—was actually getting on my nerves. Honestly, was it so hard to believe that I was an understanding, kind-hearted spirit that forgives even the bitchiest of sluts?

            “Uh, yeah, it kinda is...” Sam said slowly, looking at me quizzically.

            Oh crap. Did I just voice my thoughts without realising?

            “She’s hung up over you,” I said quietly. “I know how it feels.”

            His expression softened a fraction. “Oh, Kat, you know I know how it feels too. After all, I’ve had feelings for you since... forever.”

            My heart literally stopped at his gaze. His grin alone—with those cute dimples and straight white teeth—could leave me breathless. Combine that with that incredibly sweet speech and I find myself unable to move an inch.

            So this is what love feels like.

            I smiled inside at that. Love. I was in love with my best friend. It just sounded so... fairytale like. No... Cliché. Yeah, that was the word. Our relationship was one big cliché.  Hopefully, we would have the clichéd ‘happily ever after’ ending too.

            Shut up, Katrina.

            A hand in front of my face jerked me out of my thoughts. Sam, clearly amused, was waving his hand in front of my face. “Hello? Earth to Katrina!”

            I stuck out my tongue childishly and grabbed the hand that was now knocking on my forehead. I planted a kiss on his palm before linking his fingers with mine.

            “I love you,” he said, eyes burning with passion.

            “I love you so much more,” I replied. He opened his mouth to protest but I quickly clamped my hand down on it, silencing him. “No arguing.”

            He rolled his eyes before swatting my hand away. “Shut up, Kat. I’ve loved you longer, and therefore hold the right to love you more.”

            I wanted to protest but I realised we’d gone completely off topic. What had we been talking about again...?

            “Sarah,” I said firmly. “Yeah. I’m going to help her find a new guy.”

            “Why?” he asked, confused. “Just... why? If she was in your shoes, she wouldn’t do the same.”

            “That’s not true,” I argued, meaning what I said. “I’ve known Sarah longer than I’ve known you. She’s a good person at heart, honestly. It’s just... when she was fifteen, her boyfriend took her virginity and dumped her like a cheap whore. Since then, she finds it hard to trust people.”

            “Fifteen,” he emphasized. “As in, over ten years ago! And she’s still not gotten over it?”

            “Not really,” I answered. “I mean, she isn’t still pissed or anything. She just thinks it’ll happen again—that’s why she hates getting close to people.” I looked pointedly at Sam. “And the second time she let herself get close to somebody—with you, I mean—she’s just gotten hurt again. Can you blame her?”