08 | the chaos of hosting a dinner.

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CHRISTIAN'S P.O.V

     LUCAS TOOK A BITE OF HIS trusty Granola bar before chewing loudly and opening his mouth again. I sank further into the grass. "Come on," He murmured, "This isn't so bad. The air will do you some good!"

I scoffed, and then chuckled humourlessly. "Oh, it's almost as if we don't have air inside the house," I said slowly. "Indeed. How would a man stay alive without air!"

"Jesus, you're such a sarcastic little shit," He murmured, taking another bite. "Sometimes, I really do think that Jannat and you are made for each other. Only you two can match each other's sharp witty responses."

I blew a raspberry at him. "Like I said, she was sent straight from hell to torture me for all the sins I committed in my past life. Honestly, I plan to be a priest in this life."

Lucas shook his head, grinning. "Mate, stop lying to yourself. You like her."

"And you're a girl."

"What?"

"What? I thought we were both mindlessly lying to each other!"

"For someone so intelligent, you're quite dense - you know that?"

"I am intelligent? Thanks, it's about time you accepted that-"

"Christian Sinclair."

I shut my mouth. He had used my full name and was giving me the whole listen-to-me-you-stupid-little-shit look. Oh boy, I was in trouble.

"Your mum is elated at the prospect of Jannat and her family coming at home tonight for dinner. Let her have it."

"But-"

"Reply to all the messages Jannat sent you on instagram. Perhaps, call her even and help her please your mum and give her the satisfaction of believing that you have another friend beside me. I know you have her number."

"How-"

"I am your best friend. I know everything."

I scoffed but fished out the phone from my pocket anyways, dialling Jannat's number - which was saved under the name Devil's Spawn - and even though Lucas shot me a disapproving glance when that name lit up the screen, he didn't say anything else when he saw that I was calling her. I couldn't wipe off the sneer on my face.

"Bonjour, qui appelle?"

I paused. Was it the wrong number? But it did sound like her. "Walter? Is that you?"

There was a long pause. I put the phone on speaker and motioned for Lucas to join in on the fun of listening to radio silence.

After what seemed like forever, she screeched through the phone. "How did you get my number?"

"I have my ways, mademoiselle."

She took in a sharp breath. "I will punch you so hard and bash your face in so deep that you'll be biting your heart."

"Jesus, Walter, no need to give out such aggressively violent threats. I only called to help. To answer to all the questions bombarded me with on instagram."

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