Can I Be Your Girl

22

Yvanna gave me a noncommittal shrug after becoming quiet briefly. Pouting her lips as her eyes meaningfully told me that she didn't a single fuck. The brat.

"What's new?" she sighed dramatically, looking over to the glass wall beside her. "You always think the worst of me."

"That's not true."

"Oh, but it is." She insisted, her eyes telling me that she was exasperated and frustrated as she looked back at me. "You always have that look on your face. You think I don't notice when your eyes shrink whenever I tell you a truthful story? In your eyes I've always been a liar no matter what I do Grey."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she already looked away, heaving as her eyes further dulled due to what I think was disappointment (in me, I guess) so I clamped my lips shut.

My brows furrowed. Am I really judging her for what she really wasn't?

We were silenced by the tension.

My waffle remained untouched. However, steam still came off as I stared at it. I gripped my silver mug harder. I would've wanted to continue with our conversation and prod her more of what happened, but it was clear that Yvanna didn't want me to.

"So, how was it?"

Looking up in surprise, Yvanna was back to her playful spirits. Instead of answering my eyes were caught off guard of the familiar smirk and sly eyes and it embarrassed me to admit that I was relieved to see such familiarity after the incident she went through.

I thought I'd never see this Yvanna again, I thought.

I pondered of these aspects of her and saw it in another perspective. Did the vixenish looks made me overestimate her cunningness?

I knew she was not a goody two shoes and no doubt crossed my mind regarding that subject—she was after all part of Tatiana's clique. They were the school bullies, the attention-seekers and the whiny brats who lived to show off. But looking at her in that instance, I doubted my judgement. Maybe there were times that she was true to me but appeared not; maybe there were times where she felt vulnerable in my presence but successfully masked it with her smirks and haughty remarks.

Maybe she really wasn't as immune to my advances as I thought she was.

Warmth spread in my heart and I felt a funny stirring in my stomach—not the kind you're thinking mind you. Then I remembered that I suspected her as my body guard's secret lover. The idea sounded ridiculous and totally mental in that moment.

Snapping fingers brought me to consciousness.

"How was what?" I answered after remembering her question.

"Your date."

"What date?" I asked, confused.

"Your date with that Japanese I-don't-know-her-name girl?"

"Oh fuck no!" I exclaimed, eyeing her with disbelief.

"Can you quit cursing?!" she hissed under her breath, pinching my arm.

"I'm just saying. It wasn't a date; it was the first step in the order of business. Trust me it was the most boring and infuriating meeting of my life so far." I gave her a displeased look that had her snorting in amusement. Typical.

"I think it's safe to say you didn't enjoy her company," she said, smirking at me.

I scoffed. "I've never met anyone as conceited as her, and that says a lot because I've been around snotty spoiled brats all my life. You'd lose your mind listening to their self-centeredness. "