The Bad Boy Hates Me

Chapter 15 - The Dinner and the Drama

I blinked repeatedly not knowing what to say. Brett's words are like punch in my gut. Leaving me breathless. In hazed. I open my mouth but no sounds came out. I don't know where to start.

Heck! I'm at a loss for words. This is the point at which my mind goes completely blank. That no matter how hard I tried, nothing in my mind made sense.

When I finally found my voice, I mumbled, "It doesn't make sense."

Brett said dryly, "Right. E Everything appears to be rubbish for you."

"That's not true!" I argued. "I couldn't believe we were friends."

He burst out laughing. "Can you believe you have such a ravishingly hot friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "You are far from being hot." I lied. Sure Brett is good-looking and I am no way in a million years admitting that on his face. It will only inflate his oversize ego. Though his look is appealing in the eyes of women, still, for me, his appeal is nothing compared to Ashton.

Brett cocked his brow. "And who do you think is hot?"

Having a conversation like this with Brett seems weird.

"Oh, that good for nothing bad boy," he concluded, nodding. My head snapped at him, my hands gripping the utensils tightly. Brett smirked. "You should stop making assumptions and stop judging him," I advised.

"I'm assuming you like him."

I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off. I probably look like a fish these days, opening and closing my mouth.

"Don't dare to deny; I've already seen signs of you having a crush on him," he said. "Sneaking glances. Wanting to be in his vicinity. You blush and your eyes twinkle every time he looks your way. Thinking about him and finding yourself smiling. Wanting to be his friend so you can make a move." He emphasized each phrase by raising each of his finger.

I stared at him, appalled.

"That's not true!"

"He's trying to provoke you," Leila, Brett's younger sister who had been watching us from the start, commented.

"Are you two okay?" mom inquired. Brett smiled and nodded, then continued to savor his food, not failing to smirk in my direction. What a great way to say we were friends. Sarcasm intended.

"So, Leila, where do you go to school?" my mother inquired. "Same school with your brother?"

Leila shook her head, a warm smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I go to the other school, Greenvelt High," Leila chatted, adding that she's in grade 8 and that she doesn't want to go to school, just like Brett, because she can't stand seeing his smug face in the house and can't stand seeing it in school. She also stated that Greenvelt is Costados's rival school.

"How about you, Brett? I heard you're attending the same school with my Annathea?" dad asked, glancing at me.

I tensed.

Ghad. This is torture. From the corner of my eyes I saw Brett grinned, a mischievous one. I began to dish up my plate with mountains of foods and starts chomping it like a cow. I definitely look like a famish girl who haven't fed for a month. But I care less. I want to distract myself.