Life in Search ✔️

15 ~ Reading

"Which color works best?" Scarlett muses to herself, weighing violet and magenta dresses in front of her.

"Aren't they basically the same?" I wonder, instantly regretting my words.

She flings the dresses in my face, "Are you blind? Gosh, if I wanted a useless opinion I would've asked Sterling."

Oh, that's harsh. Technically she didn't ask me, but I think it's safe to leave this fight unprovoked. The words thanksgiving dinner are sending her over the edge. Got to admit, I'm pretty thankful I'm not going over to Avery's.

"The violet." I offer, trying my hardest not to imagine her in it. After all, purple is her favorite color.

She glares at me, but it falls short as she takes in my sincerity. Evaluating it in the mirror, she sighs. "Thank you."

We spend the rest of the afternoon browsing the mall before ending up in the food court. She snags us a table, using the opportunity to call the rest of our friends while I buy pretzels.

"Dude, I need her number." A voice from behind me says to his friends.

"Woah, she's hot." A guy agrees.

Another laughs, "You wouldn't survive, she's out of your league by a long shot. Me, on the other hand, I'm more her type."

Getting curious I try to figure out who they're looking at, these games are always fun. I bite my tongue as I land on Scarlett, oblivious to the attention as she talks on her phone.

What a bunch of idiots.

Paying for our food, I clear my throat, interrupting their ogling. "I'll do you a favor, she's out of all your leagues."

"What makes you say that?" The first one asks, buffing his chest out.

I laugh, the kid's a sophomore at best that hardly comes up to my chest. "Just watch."

And with that I stroll over to our table as she hangs up, "Dr. Pepper or root beer?" I ask raising the cups in the air.

"Root beer." She declares, taking the pretzels from my arms as I sit.

Throwing an arm over her shoulders I glance back at the group of guys from earlier, amused by the gawks plastered to their faces. If only they knew.

Knew what? We're just friends grabbing a snack. My arm pulls back, annoyed by my actions. I'm getting ahead of myself.

"What are those guys staring at?" She asks, looking over at the pretzel stand.

Wincing I glance back over, the same group still looking at her. I want to lie and say it's nothing, but I have no reason to do that. None at all. "You."

She starts to cough, soda coming out her nose. "Why would you say that?"

Handing her a napkin, I gawk at her. "What do you mean?"

"Ashton, I currently look like a slob." She protests, trying to flatten her hair behind her ears. "They're probably looking at you, or something else."

She's absolutely crazy. First of all, leggings and a sweater don't automatically make her a slob. Secondly, the messy look is cute.

"One, you look nice." I assure her, pulling her hand down. "Two, they were. They said you're hot."

Obviously.

Blood rushes to her cheeks as she focuses on her drink. "Next time just lie and say it's nothing."

What? "Why would I do that? They weren't being obscenely rude, just admiring how pretty you are."

I just called her pretty, someone shove a sock in my mouth while I still have a possible redemption.