I woke up in a happy mood.
With a smile, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, pondering this lightness inside me. I remembered my dream; one of those clichéd childhood memories, in which Amber and I had stayed up way past our bedtimes, hiding beneath the blankets in Amber's bed, giggling and hushing each other. I couldn't remember the details, except that the blanket had been pink and Amber was wearing bunny rabbit pyjamas. All I could recall was that we had been happy—I had been happy. That young, carefree happiness that was all consuming, that made you feel invincible and eternal.
That feeling had carried over from my sleep and lay in my chest, light and tingly. I slipped from bed and dressed, conscious of the fact I was going to meet Cobe in less than an hour. After being waken from sleep late that morning by the phone call from Cobe, I had loped around the house, yawning and blinking longingly. Finally I had just gone back to bed, setting my alarm for two o'clock, just in case I slept in for longer than planned. And now I was awake, reenergised and happy.
Happiness had been hard to come by lately, so I savoured it.
As I got ready to leave, I thought about Amber and this mess we were in. I knew she was angry at me. And no sister wanted that sort of anger directed towards them, which explained the miserable mood I had been sunk in the last week or so. A misery that was strong in its bindings because just last year Amber and I had been friends, close friends, almost the best-of. We talked, we laughed, we spent time together. But now we weren't speaking, Amber was angry at me—and not just angry, furious. And at me. I hadn't done anything, I didn't think. Nothing that would cause such a hateful emotion.
It was because of Emery, I knew. Emery. Just his name brought an image of his face; his odd coloured eyes and black beanie, with tawny scraps of hair curling from the hem, and his lip ring, and his hunched shoulders, and his dimpled smile.
I blinked and focused on my face in the mirror, recognizing the look in my eyes and linking it with the tingles in my hands and the squirming of my stomach. "I like him," I whispered, watching my lips move, watching as I hesitated. I more than just liked him, but I was too afraid to admit it. Especially since he had hurt me by explaining just why he had confronted me in the elevator.
'I was just being an idiot, see how you'd react.'
Why did it hurt so much? Just a short sentence, a few words strung together. Hell, he didn't even sound sincere when he'd said it. And yet it hurt. Even if he hadn't meant it, if he'd just said it to cover up an awkward, unwanted moment, what would it mean? That he really had wanted to kiss me?
The thought had me clenching my fists in anticipation.
No, I chided myself, staring into the mirror and meeting my own blue eyes. Don't think about it. He's Amber's boyfriend, even if they keep fighting, even if Emery and me have more in common, even if Emery and me are...
"Stop it," I hissed and splashed water across my face.
It was time I went to meet Cobe.
He was waiting at the café, reclined back in his seat, staring out the window. When I approached, he looked up and smiled. I greeted him with a cheery, "Hello."
"Hi," he said warmly, standing up as I pulled out a chair. He sat back down after I was comfortably seated and passed me a menu. "I haven't ordered yet," he informed me, "I was waiting for you."
I smiled and cooed jokingly. "Aww, thanks, Cobie."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled and suddenly the resemblance between Cobe and Emery was so strong I jerked in surprise. "Are you alright?" asked Cobe but I continued to stare at him. He frowned. "Bronwyn?"
YOU ARE READING
BOYTOY
Teen FictionHe looked towards my waist before groaning and looking away. "Look what you're wearing." Confused, I glanced down, and immediately realised the dilemma. I was in my underwear. " My sisters boyfriend saw me in my underwear, siblings are suppose to sh...