Worth The Fight ✓

Chapter Seventeen

"No. My best friend."

"He's hot," she comments in a heartbeat. "Is he single?" It sounds like she's just felt the obligation of asking so. Maybe it does to me since I know who she is in real - how she is.

"He's mine." I'm minutes away from punching her in the face. Now, she is hitting on Calvin. My Calvin. Although it might be just the façade of her behaviour, I don't like it.

"You've just said he is your best friend," she retorts, frowning. "Wait, you like him, huh?" A sneaky grin plays on her lips then. "I give you the right though. He is ravishing."

"It's none of your business." Before she can say something that gets on my nerves, I keep on. "And today, you didn't see me. You won't see me again."

Skipping my threat, she says, "You've never asked how Levi is doing though." Her eyes are fixed on mine with an entertaining grin. People like to use others' weaknesses - and faults. "He is here, too. He'd like to know who I've stumbled across to."

I can't help but squeeze her arm warningly. "You won't tell him," I say with gritted teeth.

"What is stopping me?" She mock-whispers. Then, she tilts her head back and laughs. "Seriously, you think now that you've become strong and tough, it would change a thing? You are still that Jacqueline who my brother has manipulated. Oh, wait, Levi was your crush, right?"

"I'll tell him what you've done years ago." I threaten her instead. "Does he know that his twin sister has fallen in love with his girlfriend? And made out?" Her eyes light with a different light - a light that I know will work out for me.

"H-how do you know that?" She stutters.

"I've seen it," I say sheepishly, "the perks of being a wallflower, Laurie, no one notices you."

"He won't believe you," she denies.

"I'm a leery person," I mock, "I make sure I have evidence."

"You are lying. You wouldn't..."

"Well, if I ever see him around, you'd see if I am serious or not. Now fuck off."

She pauses, still frozen by the shock. "Why do you do this?" She asks suddenly.

I smile at her warily. "I make sure my future is safe, Lauren."

"I or Levi," she says, looking down with embarrassment, "won't bother you in the future. I guarantee that."

"Fine. You know what happens if you do."

When I get inside again, I meet Calvin's curious eyes. I just sit and look at him but of course, he asks questions. Lots of them. "Who was she? And why did you talk outside?"

"An old friend."

"You've lived in Brighton, huh? I heard that place is nice." I appreciate his effort of starting a conversation but the last thing I want to keep talking of is Brighton and that summer. "Jack, you don't seem okay," he says, worry spreading over from his words.

"I am fine. By the way, I didn't live there. My grandparents live there and I've gone there in summer." This didn't sounds so convincing. "She wasn't a person I'd like to see."

"I watched you two," he admits. "And each time you opened your mouth, she looked like she was going to have a heart attack. What did you tell her? What are you hiding, Jack?"

"Calvin," I say nervously, "do you have to dig into my past?"

"Yes. I am your best friend." This word becomes more overrated each time.

"Okay," I give in, sighing. "Do you remember when I told you how you don't need to worry about my virginity? Her twin brother was my first - that's all."

He narrows his eyes. "That's all? Is it why it is unpleasant to remember?"

I look at him, then roll my eyes. "I might've had a crush on him back then and he might've used it against me to get into my pants. And maybe, just maybe, I've taken the bait and fallen for his charming words because I've been so naïve. Then, he might've manipulated me in front of his sister and friends and I might've cried for days and hated him all my life." It isn't a pleasant memory to recall. But that memory played back when I first saw Lauren anyway.

He looks at me with pity - which I really hate - and smiles softly. "I am sorry."

"It's fine," I huff as if it doesn't affect me at all. "I was stupid and I used to trust people so easily."

"You were Jacqueline," he states. I recall his earlier message. He thinks Jacqueline is the naïve girl inside me. Maybe he is right, maybe that night Jacqueline had gotten better of me.

"So, which one do you like better, Jack or Jacqueline?"

He pauses. "Hmm..." He puts his hand under his chin, and takes the thinking position. Then, his eyes dart on me with a thoughtful expression. He looks so sweet right there, beside handsome, and I try to supress those feelings as he starts off. "Jack. Because she is smooth." I arch my eyebrow at that. "It is weird to talk about you as if you're a third person but okay. Well, she isn't complicated - she is user-friendly and straightforward. She swears, punches and threatens. She is easy. On the other hand, Jacqueline is complicated. I can't really get what she is trying to do." He looks into my eyes and it sends shivers down my spine. "I think she is afraid. Of loving or being hurt, I don't know, but she is. And Jack supresses her. She tries to. Well, I don't like Jacqueline because she has the true answer of my question. Jack is just the shell."

When I asked the question, I didn't expect it to become so deep and dangerous. "You like Jack," I breathe as if I didn't hear anything else.

He lets out a chuckle - humorless and dry.

I gulp down and stand up, straightening my skirt. Then, I grab my school bag and look at him. "Let's go home."

During the walk, we don't open our mouths. Add another silence to the list. It becomes so visible that I want to cut it off with a knife. As we pass by Green Park, I want to offer to spend some time there but I bite the request back. The more time we spend the more awkward it gets. I need to give him time. I need to stop being selfish.

Finally, we arrive at home. He stops at the steps and lifts his gaze at mine. He looks so handsome again, with that wary, intent eyes of him. I want to -

"See you," he mutters, hoarser than a whisper.

Jack is straightforward. She is smooth. She is easy.

Jack is easy.

Easy.

Straightforward. Smooth.

I lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek, cupping his neck with my hand. Touching him feels better than I've imagined. He gawks at me while I retreat and fake a smile. "Bye."

He touches his cheek, looking down at his hand. "What was that for?"

I shrug. "I just wanted to. Kiss you." Then, I register what I've just said. Wait, fuck, what? "On the cheek. Your cheek. Yeah, I wanted to kiss you on the cheek." I repeat the sentence thrice but I'm still not convinced by its meaning.

He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as his eyes fixate on my forehead. Next moment, he plants a kiss on it - a fleeting yet ever-lasting kiss.

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