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Chapter 5: (Olivia's POV)

"I've also accidentally robbed a bank," I said. We were currently walking around, eating ice lollies. 

"Wait what?" he chuckled. 

"I'm kidding, I was just checking to see if you were still listening," I laughed. 

"I'm listening, Oliver," he said while we strolled around. 

"Why must you call me that, bellboy?" I sighed. 

"Why must you call me that, Olive?" he said mockingly. 

"Because you call me Olive, even though you know that's not my name," I retorted. 

"You've been calling me Miles since the third grade, Olivia," he scoffed. 

"I have such a pretty, lyrical name. Olivia, you just said it. But you will never call me that. Oliver Twist, Oliver, Olive, do I look green to you?" 

"No, but you look like an Olive," he shrugged. 

I shoved him, causing him to stumble while laughing and walking. "You're such a prick," I shook my head. 

"I am," he nodded, "What color is my tongue?" he asked, sticking his tongue out. 

"Blue," I stated, "What color is mine?" I asked, sticking my own tongue out. 

"Red," he answered. 

"Let's make purple," I snorted. 

He shook his head, smiling at me, rolling his eyes, "I remember why I hate you now," he nodded. 

"Why's that?" I grinned. 

"Because you say shit like that," he scoffed. 

"You've kissed me three times, Ethan Miles Archer," I replied. 

"Two. Two times. The third time, you kissed me," he answered smugly. 

"Did you push me off? No. Did you kiss me back? Yes," I taunted. 

"She was watching," he huffed. 

"That's none of my business, I wouldn't know," I shrugged. 

"Real smart, Olivia Carrington, play it off like you didn't know," he chuckled. I smiled, throwing the wrapper in the trash can that we came across. "Can I know why you asked me to help you with this? Wouldn't it be easier to pretend with someone who you... don't hate?" he asked. 

"You were the first guy I saw nearby who isn't my dad or grandpa's age, who else would I ask?" I shrugged. 

"But still. Me? Really?" he questioned. 

I looked up at him, confused. This sounded like he was talking about something else. "Are we still talking about the deal?" 

"What else would we be talking about?" he asked. 

"I don't know," I mumbled, "Anyway, you were the first guy I saw, and while I hate you and you're very annoying, you're not too bad to look at. And he wouldn't have guessed it was you because we have enmity that goes way back, am I right?" 

"Right," he answered, looking at me weirdly. "But why would anyone date their current or ex enemy?" he questioned. 

"Love turns into hate all the time, hate can turn into love too. In fact, it's a thin line. A lot of people confuse their hate for love and their love for hate," I explained. I've read that somewhere, I don't know how accurate it is though and I don't even remember where I read it. 

"Is that your way of telling me you're in love with me?" he smirked. 

"Haha. No, but you sure wish it was," I replied. 

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