Love is Stupid

Chapter Nine: Mutual feelings and Snarling arguments

Not edited

One hour passed. Another hour passed. Unfortunately for Goody, her phone had died at that second hour. She then sat in the centre of the bean bag, pouring over the scrapbooks and albums she'd found lying by the corner. Family, friends and trust Samantha to include food. Whenever saw a recipe that looked inviting, she scribbled it down.

It didn't take long before she realized that negotiations, snarling arguments and even fatal threats wouldn't make Samantha release her from the room. She had only given them one option; calling a truce.

Goody had no choice but to accept her fate. When she had seen Clay, she was shocked at the length her friends would go when their first attempt was already an epic fail.

The first hour she'd spent angry and irritated at everything. By the second hour, she'd managed to get used to the situation. That was until she occasionally felt Clay's eyes on her.

Well, damn it, she thought as Clay continued to look steadily between her and his phone, she was ready for a truce. She'd see to it that his opinion of her and things changed. But he'd be the one to say it first.

Setting the book aside, she shifted, sliding her legs from left to right for comfort. Till he was ready to say it, she was going to take a long, long nap.

"So you rather sleep than talk to me?"

"What?"

Surprise, she told herself, was what had her heart jolting. She had wanted him to the first to say something but she didn't think it would happen anytime soon. Or for a matter of fact that he'd inch closer to her as he said it. She hated to be taken unawares.

"You are always zoned out, never paying attention."

"I pay attention, Blackthorn. Maybe not just when you are around me."

He sat on the bed, inches away from the bean bag, amused when her eyes narrowed. "People fortunate enough to be in the same room with me don't usually spend their time sleeping."

"That's the thing you don't understand. I'm not people, " She said primly.

"I understand." He watched as she absently tapped her fingers on the albums that were stacked beside her. His gaze travelled back to her eyes, "You hate me."

Goody made the mistake of turning to him. He had leaned towards her until their faces were close, their eyes locked, their mouths a breath apart. She resisted pulling her head back. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I don't hate you." It wasn't a lie. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't find it in to hate him. "I prefer to refer to it as intense dislike, " She decided.

Intrigued, Clay lifted his brow and settled back in his side of the bed. "Apart from the part that I tried to kiss you when we were like- eleven, what else contributed to your intense dislike for me?"

Her lips twitched and she had to press it into a thin line. "I was twelve."

"So it's just that then?"

"You can include the fact that you find everything I say or do funny. You've refused to stop calling me Bad and you go out of your way to make me mad all the time."

Clay was quiet for a moment before he grinned, a flash of humour that proved her right.

"I like fighting with you." He admitted the green in his eyes twinkling but not as sharp as the look Goody gave him.

"You like fighting with me, " Goody lifted her hand to rub her temple. Her headache must be affecting her hearing.

"You are one of the few people who don't agree to everything I say. And whether you know it or not, it makes you totally adorable, " He smiled charmingly. It was indeed a rare occasion. Since when did Clay smile at her?