𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬

18 - complain

"No. But I have a feeling you'll tell me anyway, just to piss me off." She snarks back and he chuckles, nodding his head as if he's impressed.

"Correct, Emilia." A silence lingers between them as he takes a breath before speaking. "August of last year, Carter approached me in my office, he had a powerpoint..." A long pause and she sighs, again.

"Gabriel, get to the point." My dad places a bottle of wine on the counter and walks to the other side.

"He begged to go to that school Emilia. It wasn't my choice or my advice, just him. He presented a powerpoint on all the reasons why we should let him go. Adeline said yes since she has a soft spot for him."

Well shit. What's the big deal? So I wanted to go to the same school as Mila? So do hundreds of others...

"He said that you forced him to attend the school..." She whispers and he pops off the top to his beer and takes a small sip.

"Just thought you should know... Carter you can come in now!" He shouts out to me and I freeze out of reflex.

My dad walks back out of the kitchen, patting me on back while he smiles to himself. "Great hiding spot."

"Fuck you, dad." I flip him off when his back is turned as I hear him laugh down the hall, before putting the mixer down on the countertop.

"Is that true? You went to boarding school for me..." She questions, her eyes having a slight sparkle of emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Wherever you go, I go." She smiles and the voice in my head shout at me to remember what this is.

"If I left you alone for too long, your ego would have gotten too high." Mila rolls her eyes, assembling the mixer together. "Oh yeah... What other excuse you got?"

"I cant challenge you to competitions from an Italian boarding school...?" I attempt another lie and she just shakes her head, seemingly unconvinced.

It doesn't matter, I don't owe an explanation of why I wanted to be in close proximity to her, that's an obvious question in which she fears the answer to.

"Will you help me? This thing is difficult." I grab the top and pull it down as she drops her hands in defeat.

She passes me the eggs, I crack them, I hand her the flour, she measures it. We work in silence, making sure our calculations make sense so the brownies don't turn out like total ass.

We just shuffle around the kitchen really, not speaking, somehow we enjoy each other's presence in silence, while working.

I guess that's why we bicker so often in school, it can be such a loud environment that you get so stressed and worked up, like our friend Mila here.

It hurts in school to see her so sad over results and tests, it's like she tries so hard that when she doesn't, its seen as a total fail, when all she wants —and deserves— is a damn break.

"Carter?" Her fingers click in my face and I pretend to bite them so she yanks em' back. "You can't keep spacing out like that, it's stressful."

She continues to pour in the rest of the mixture and I continue to watch her fail miserably. "Christ, has anyone every told you you're awful at baking."

I get another roll of the eyes, a middle finger to the face and a sigh from grouchy little Mila over there, my grouchy little irritation.

"Mila?" She mumbles a small 'mm' and I prop myself up on the counter.

"You wanna watch the stars while it bakes... to pass the time?" I ask quietly and she looks out the window, furrowing her brows.

"There's no stars out tonight, too cloudy. So unless you want to lay in the rain?" Right... Lightbulb.