Wrong Side Of The Bed

28 | don't ever become a stranger.

CHRISTIAN'S P.O.V

"HOW INCOMPETENT," I addressed my best friend, who didn't look like he was going on a mission to bust his ex-girlfriend's lying scheme. No, instead, he looked like an average sports playing boy but with slightly elevated looks — in his half translucent white t-shirt, red and white varsity jacket and black jeans.

"You don't get to comment on my clothes anymore," He made a snide remark, leaning forward to tie his shoelaces. I watched quietly as he failed terribly at the task. I kicked his knee lightly to stop him, and then I crouched down and tied his shoelaces for him. I always tied shoelaces immaculately. He patted my hair as a thanks.

"And why is that so?"

"Because—" He said, slicking his wet hair back. "—Jannat has performed some kind of magic on you. You've started dressing up when you know her presence is guaranteed."

"Pfft," I dismissed his thoughts at once. I couldn't believe that he was saying that even though I was just wearing a plain black turtleneck, dark grey trousers, a denim jacket and a long, black overcoat. "I don't do that. And I think I look pretty casual. And smart. I want people to fall at my feet because of how intimidated they feel by my intellectual sense of style."

He stared at me, unblinking. "You dress up for Jannat."

"I do not."

"You do."

"Okay, maybe I do," I admitted, rolling my eyes. "So what? I want her to see the efforts I am making and appreciate it. And I know she does." I blew out a small breath. "It makes me feel kinda special."

"God, you're so whipped," Lucas commented, standing up and rolling his feet at his toe-tip once to see if the shoes  fit properly on his feet. They did. "So is she. She is just more stubborn than you are. I'll be having a field day when the two of you finally get over your overthinking and rivalry and stubbornness and finally get together."

"Field day? A sports pun? You're getting smarter, Lucas," I said, smirking slightly. "Are you studying more for me, honey?"

"Absolutely," He replied, laughing a little. "I want to be able to hold highly intellectual discussions with you, sweetie."

"I was so grossed out when you called me sweetie that I felt my bones jump out of my skin in embarrassment and cringe."

"And… you've successfully ruined the mood!" Lucas exclaimed, smiling wide, banging his hand against an invisible bell. "Three points for Christian! Here's to his remarkable ability of ruining moods at the most abrupt times by saying the weirdest stuff!"

I took a bow, and then looked over at my invisible audience. "Why, thank you. I am honored to have received this accolade yet again."

"You're incorrigible," He said, hand slung over my shoulder, a big pat on my back. I wheezed out a breath, the breath knocked out of my lungs at the sudden impact. Jeez, what did he eat?

"What do you eat, bro?" I huffed. "How are you always so heavy?"

He looked at me, offended. "I am not too heavy! Just the perfect amount! I eat more nutritious food in a day than what you eat in a week."

"Whatever," I waved him off. "At least I'm happy."

"You'll die at forty with choked arteries."

"I'll die happy at forty," I corrected him. He reached out, slapping me slightly on my cheek in a condescending manner. I scowled at him.

The ride to Ava's residence was conflict free, thanks to my awesome driving skills. I was dismayed at the fact that I still remembered all the shortcuts pretty clearly — even though it had been a significant amount of time since I had last come to this side of the city. She is a horrible person, I thought as the contents of the recording Walter had sent us last night started replaying in my head.