2 | Sunlight, Buttercups, and All Things Yellow

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"Um, I like art...stuff," I said lamely, avoiding the actual question. I suddenly felt like I did, in fact, have a favourite colour. Yellow.

"That's fantastic," Holly enthused. "Are you an artist?"

"No, no, it's just a hobby," I said hurriedly. "I haven't decided what I want to do yet."

"So, where did you guys meet?" Holly asked, changing the subject.

"At a cafe," I honestly replied.

"And how long have you been together?"

"Six years." Everett jumped in with the confidence of an idiot.

Holly furrowed her brows. "How old are you two?" she asked suspiciously.

I didn't expect to win the wager this soon.

"Uhh, twenty-five?" Everett lied. Quite badly.

I rolled my eyes. Maybe six years from now.

"Uhuh...um. Okay." She looked doubtful.

I didn't blame her.

Holly scribbled some stuff down while she asked us more random questions about our fake relationship. Everett spun a not-very-believable story, but Holly seemed engrossed in it.

"Wow, you guys," she said, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a tissue. "Clem, you sang to Evan from a rooftop? On a small Greek island?? That's amazing."

What the heck? I must've zoned out during that part of the story. I turned to Everett to glare at him.

"What song was it?" Holly asked, mesmerized.

Everett didn't miss a beat. "If I could turn back time. And he started singing at a church wedding before he ran out and got on the roof."

I almost facepalmed. The whole thing was just a scene from that 'Walking on Sunshine' movie.

Holly clearly hadn't seen it. "That's amazing," she gushed again. "Fabulous, Clemmy."

I felt myself bristle a little.

"He prefers being called Clementine," Everett quickly jumped in.

"Of course, Clementine," Holly amended.

I didn't have it in me to feel any gratitude for that though, after the whole rooftop story.

I zoned out again as Holly blathered on for a while and soon the session was over.

"See you in a week!" she called as we filed out of the office.

"That was fun," Everett said, beaming as we walked to the bus stop. "And she had no idea we didn't know each other."

"That was not fun," I argued. "And why did you say all that stuff about the roof? That never happened."

Everett laughed. "I thought it was funny. She totally ate it up."

"I would never do that," I grumbled. "And that movie was stupid."

"You've seen it?"

I didn't want to mention I secretly loved that movie. I just would never do that rooftop scene, personally.

A bright red bus trundled down the road and came to a stop in front of us, automatic doors opening with a steamy hiss. I followed Everett up the small, winding steps to the upper deck of the bus. He sat on the blue upholstered seats right in front of the windshield, watching the street like a movie as the bus took off.

"We don't have to come back here," I said, taking a seat beside him. "You won the bet, I'll help you bake whenever."

"We've gotta come back, I'm already preparing an exciting story for next time." Everett kicked his legs up on the front window. "Besides, a bet's a bet. One baking session per successful counseling session."

"Oh please. You just want to see the 'hot counselor' again."

"What?" A look of confusion passed over his face and then it cleared up. "Oh, I was kidding about that. I don't like girls, actually...."

"Why, what's wrong with them?" I stupidly asked.

"Idiot, I'm gay."

"Oh."

I paused. Everett burst out laughing.

I can't believe I just said that. I felt red hot heat creeping up my cheeks. Mortifying.

Everett doubled over in his seat, clutching his sides. "HA-ha, ahh.... 'Why, what's wrong with them?' Oh Clementine; you crack me up."

"It's not that funny," I grumbled. "You weren't being very clear."

"It was pretty funny actually." He pressed the button on the side of the rail. "Well anyway, this is our stop."

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