Lover Boy | Newt (Book 1)

~~ 5 ~~

Newt's P.O.V.

   Oh, gosh. SHE KISSED ME! On the cheek, yeah, and it was just a little peck, but still a kiss.

   Okay, calm down, Newt, it probably meant nothing, just a friendly kiss. She probably gave Alby one also. Maybe I'll ask about it.

   I walk outside to find Alby. "Hey Al," I say. "Where's Cyrah?"

   He smirks. "Missing your girlfriend, are we?"

   "Shut up!" I say and push him. "Anyway, I need to ask you something. In private. "

   "Okay," he says seriously. "I'm all ears."

   "Answer truthfully. Did Cyrah ever kiss you on the cheek?" I ask him, hoping she didn't.

   "No, why? She'd just met me," he added.

   "Well, I---"

   "Wait..." he interrupts. "SHE KISSED YOU?"

   "On the cheek, yeah," I say, my face heating up. "Oh, God, please don't tell her about this conversation," I say.

   "Wow! Okay, what you have to do to set up a marriage is---"

   "Gosh, Alby, she just kissed me on the cheek! And it was probably just a friendly kiss! It's not like we're having babies!"

   "Now that would be a sight..." he trails off. "Any baby names? Can I be the godfather? Should we go shopping for---?" He continues firing questions.

   "Would you shut up?" I ask, covering his mouth. "Cyrah does not need to know about this!" 

   "I don't need to know about what?" Cyrah asks, handing us each a plate piled with pancakes.

   "Uh...u-um....n-nothing...n-nothing at a-all..." Smooth, Newt, real smooth.

   "Okay?" She says. "If it's nothing you can tell me."

   "Well?" She asks with her hands on her hips and waits when I don't say anything, but instead of telling her what she was waiting for, I could only focus on how absolutely ravishing she looked. "Like what you see, don't you?" 

   And there, right on cue, I turn into a tomato.

   "Well...I---"

   "Cyrah, these pancakes are really good! Can you give me the recipe?" Alby requests and I thank him with my eyes for distracting her. I'm sure he understands, but then he gives me a wink and smirk and I glare at him.

   Cyrah shoves him playfully. "Even if I did, you'll ruin it and it'll be a waste of an amazing recipe. Obviously created by Yours Truly."

   Alby glares at her while we both clutch our stomachs and laugh, almost like wheezing.

   "All jokes aside," Alby says, trying to change the topic. "We have to split up the jobs today."

   "Newt, you can weed, water, and fertilize the plants. Alby, you should go feed the animals and clean the pen, it stinks already, and I'll go gather stuff, work as the doctor, and just help you guys."

   "Sounds good to me," I say, referring to Cyrah's plan. 

   "Damn, Greenie! Only the first week and you're already taking charge!"

   "And Alby, you might want to clean your room," Cyrah adds as an afterthought, ignoring his last comment.

   "But–––it's not that messy, and–––" he sputters.

   "Uh, don't bother protesting," She says, cutting him off, and beckons both of us to follow. 

   We both do, him more reluctantly than me though.

   I find it hard to catch up with her when she's running, although she does pause a bit for us to catch up. I swear, someone must have stuck her on a treadmill and made her train every single day for her to be this fast! It's bloody amazing!

   When I finally catch up with her after she slows down, I get a good look at her while running by her side. The wind that flows through in the side while we're running dances in her angelic hair and her eyes hold a sparkle of mischief and happiness as she grinned. 

   "Newt, what do you think?" She asks. I don't notice when we stopped running, but we're in front of Alby's room now.

   "I'm s-sorry, c-could you...um..."

   Cyrah looks exasperated. "You didn't catch any of that, did you? Does he always zone out what other people say?" She asks, directing this at Alby.

   "Well, no, but ever since you got here, he's gotten a bit distracted by–––"

   "Shut up!" I yell and cover his mouth. There is no way I'm letting him just tell Cyrah like that.

   "Well, someone's sensitive about the topic, but it doesn't matter if you don't want to tell us. You can tell me anything, Newt," she says the last part softly.

   "Okay," I agree. "What if I make a fool of myself?" The words seemed to roll out of my mouth involuntarily.

   "You won't make a fool of yourself. Besides, even if you did, it doesn't matter."  

   "Thanks, Cyrah it–––"

   "Guys, I'd hate to interrupt this lovey-dovey moment, but–––"

   "SHUT UP!" We both yell at him and glare. He raises his hand in surrender and takes a step back in the corridor.

   "You don't have to do that every single time," Cyrah mutters. Her cheeks are tinted red but they're probably nothing compared to my cheeks, they feel nuclear. I must look like the colour of beetroot, but thankfully Cyrah and Alby are too busy in their staring contest that they don't notice. 

   I take this moment to calm down my face and appear at least somewhat normal. 

   I listen to their conversation. Well, more like watch their conversation. Every single time Cyrah talks, I focus too much on the mesmerising way her rosy heart-shaped and slightly thin –––though not in an unpleasant way ––– lips move.

   They finally wrapped up their argument. "Guys? Can I know what you said now?"

   "Well, I asked if you think Alby's room needs cleaning."

   I peek inside Alby's room. It's strange, the whole time I've been in the Glade, I've never really been in my only friend's bedroom, and we live together. 

   His room can definitely use some airing out and his all his belongings including the sheets are either in the corner somewhere, randomly thrown on the shelves, or piled on the bed. In short, Alby's room was certainly what you might call; a mess.

   I voiced this out loud and obviously got an unpleasant scowl from Alby while Cyrah smirked smugly and knowingly.

   "Oh, what's the big deal?" Alby asks trying to defend himself.

   "The big deal, my dear, is that your room looks like klunk."

   "Oh, whatever, I bet your room is just as messy!"

   Wordlessly, she points him to her room just next to his'. I peek in as well, and her room was spotless. The sheets are made, and her clothes are all folded on the shelves and everything. 

   "Well, that's not fair, you–––"

   "Yes?"

   "Uh...Ugh, whatever!" Alby throws up his hands and leaves, having no comeback.