Chapter 20: Flowers And Marshmallows.

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"Is it your nose? Did you get a nose job?"

I looked up at the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh.

What did I do that was so bad to be tortured like this?

"No, no, that's not it." Dylan concluded all by himself. He placed a hand under his chin, moving his index finger around in mock thought. "Something's different about you, I just can't seem to put my finger on what it is." He bent down ever so slightly so that our faces were at the same level and squinted his eyes. Suddenly, he was squatting down on the floor and pointing at my shoes. "Are those new?"

"How about I stomp you in the face with them so you can figure out yourself?" I snapped, clearly falling off of the tightrope that portrayed my last thread of patience. Dylan laughed, clutching to his chest as the vibrating waves of joy left his throat. Immediately, I found myself smiling at the sound of it.

I wish I had a cute laugh like that. But nooo, I sound like a drowning warthog instead.

"I'm just messing with you." He teased, pinching my cheek. I smacked his hand off of me and began to rub my now sore and slightly warm cheek.

Huh?

"You look amazing." He said, walking back to the cash register which he was in control of for the day. "I mean, I've always thought you looked amazing but it's good to finally see that you're starting to believe in it yourself."

Claire, who had locks of my hair in her hands, was looking at them in close range, as if she was analysing them. Frankly, she was starting to creep me out. I averted my gaze back to Dylan who was now sat on a stool, swiping at his phone screen and in his own little world.

How the bloody hell can you say something like that to someone and then just act like you didn't? Like come on, I know I'm slow but I'm not THAT slow. He just pretty much freaking admitted to sort of, kind of liking me. I think. I don't know. I like him. But obviously not like that. That would just make things so... Awkward. Like, UGHHH!! HE'S MY FRIEND AND I LIKE HIM THAT WAY, I DON'T WANT HIM TO BE ANYTHING MORE OR ANYTHING LESS THAN THAT GOD DAMN IT!! AND I COULD BE WRONG HERE, RIGHT? I COULD BE MAKING ALL OF THIS UP IN MY SICK, LITTLE HEAD AND BE OVERREADING THE SITUATION, COMPLETELY OVERANALYSING THE TINIEST DETAILS AND COMING UP WITH SCENARIOS THAT WILL NEVER EVER HAPPEN, RIGHT? AND WHY AM I SHOUTING IN MY HEAD?

A hand patting on my shoulder brought me back down to earth. I turned to my left and found Alexander standing next to me. He pointed at something and my eyes followed in the same direction. A middle aged man was sitting on my side of the café.

"A customer!" I practically screamed before grabbing the menu Alexander had been holding and making my way to the man. "Good morning, Sir! How are you doing this fine morning?!" I cheerfully asked. I mean, can you blame me? I hadn't served a single customer in almost two weeks, I was afraid my people skills would get rusty soon. The man's eyes were fixed on the wooden table in front of him and he didn't even acknowledge the fact that I was standing right next to him.

R00d. (A double zero r00d and not just your simple rude).

"I recommend an icy drink, seeing that the beautiful sun's out today and with sun there will be heat. And for heat, you need ice. Gosh, don't you just love sunny days?" I asked in an attempt to start any sort of conversation with the guy.

As if the gears in his brain finally clicked, he looked away from his point of focus on the table and looked up at me. Only then did I notice his bloodshot eyes and the dried tears underneath them. "She loved the sun." He murmured to himself, almost too low for me to hear.

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