Pickled

| five |

Chapter Five

That Monday, Diana bemoaned her hectic weekend to Millie during first period Statistics.

Their teacher, Ms. McDree, had set them off to practice problems from Chapter Six in small groups. Ms. McDree was fresh out of college and didn't seem to know what the word "discipline" meant, so every group was chattering loudly, taking a good amount of time to work through each problem. The noise level went unnoticed by Ms. McDree, who had propped her heels lazily against the edge of her desk as she graded tests from another class.

"He came back?" Millie blurted, unable to keep quiet throughout Diana's rant. "The next day? As in-less than 24 hours later?"

"Yes." Diana heaved a sigh, slouching in her chair. "It was infuriating. And then he was driving me insane, just like before: asking which pickles I liked, what I thought he should buy, all this stupid stuff."

At this point Millie interrupted, pointing out, "Obviously he was making conversation."

"You don't understand. He made a joke about pickles." Diana visibly shivered, and Millie snorted loudly. "I almost lost my mind."

But Millie didn't share Diana's view on the whole situation, even when she relived the horrible moment when her Dad overheard her snapping at a customer. There was a bright, sneaky spark behind Millie's eyes as she grinned across the desk. "You know what's going on here, right?"

"I have a stalker?"

"No, smartass," Millie told her, still mid-smirk, "you have a lover."

Diana bit her tongue to keep from bursting out in laughter; McDree may have lacked in the punishment department, but that didn't mean she wouldn't fix Diana with her famous "bitch-stare". She clicked the eraser of her mechanical pencil instead, pushing the lead back inside when it got too long and starting the process all over again. "I do not," Diana said firmly. "He's just a twelve-year-old boy stuck inside the body of a seventeen-year-old."

"Yeah, right." Millie reached across the desks to still Diana's hand, the pencil clicking finally coming to a halt, as she fixed Diana with a strong look. "He covered your ass when your Dad was about to kill you. If all he wanted was to annoy you, he would've just left."

"But..." Diana trailed off, spluttering as she searched for another reason.

"And didn't he want to eat lunch with you today?" Millie pressed.

"Well." Diana frowned. "Yes."

Millie sat back in her chair, palms spread open and left eyebrow raised as she shrugged. "I rest my case. He likes you."

Diana's nostrils flared, because her cheeks had started to burn and it was only making her more frustrated. It annoyed her to no end when Millie was right and she was wrong - especially if it had to do with Diana's life.

She set down the mechanical pencil on top of the opened textbook, just so she wouldn't start absentmindedly clicking it again. "Agree to disagree," Diana said with finality, teasingly raising her eyebrow to match Millie's smug expression. "Besides, he won't sit with me at lunch."

Millie bit into the eraser of her pencil. "If he sits next to you, you are not allowed to throw your juice box at him."

"I won't make any promises," Diana grinned.

As it turned out, Alex wasted no time in finding Diana at lunch. Much to Diana's dismay, he spotted her about ten minutes into their lunch period, locating her in the back left corner of the cafeteria - snugly tucked away with Millie at their usual table.