Dagian: Part 1

Options: Part 2

If I could only give them away.

A sudden jerk snapped me back. Michael had my hand in a bone-crunching hold, towing me to our table by the window. I skipped like a clumsy idiot, dodging around the chair-legs, smiling a frightening apoplogy like a cat on too much catnip at the kids who'd thought me worthy of a look.

Crushed by the unimpressed faces, and feeling the tight pull of skin across my cheeks, I looked away, hiding my embarrassment. Giving my mouth a stretch to relieve the ache along my jaw, I dared a quick peek over my shoulder. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or offended when I saw no one paying any notice.

No use trying to figure that one out.

As I turned my head in the direction Michael was pulling me like an untrained puppy, my left foot stuck to the floor, catching me off balance. To my horror, the sole of my trainer stuttered in an ear-splitting squeak across the coloured tiles, alerting Sam and Jason to our presence. Jason responded with a half-cocked smile, highlighting the dimple in his left cheek.

So, my innate coordination amuses you.

I returned the gesture, minus the dimple, finding it impossible not to stare. In the first two years of getting to know Jason and Michael, I had a hard time believing they weren't brothers. Ten years later, I'm still having problems. Short, black hair. Flawless, dark caramel skin and eyes like warm mugs of hot chocolate. Even their size was an exact match.

One resounding difference though set them apart: Jason never made it his mission to humiliate me all the time. But hidden behind those dark-brown eyes lay a secret even I found hard to fathom.

Sam broke the connection by growling something unpleasant before turning away. Okay, I'd expected a show of resentment, but I never imagined that would happen. Fine, I deserved it. My best friend duties were a resounding failure.

Here you go again, pandering to others' needs.

"Hi Eve, how's the studying going?" Jason said, smoothing the bristle of anger crawling up my back.

"Good, nearly finished," I replied, hating myself for lying to him.

I dared another glimpse at Sam— the telltale marker clear as she chewed against the inside of her mouth. A nasty habit indicating she could explode at any minute. I swallowed hard in response.

"Hi Sam, what have you been up to?" I clasped my hands together, trying to hide the tremor that was making my fingers dance.

She shifted position and faced me, her cornflower-blue eyes darkening with resentment. "Unbelievable! You've avoided me the past few days and now you want to bloody talk. Typical."

"Ooo, someone's in troub—"

"Shut it, Michael," Sam said, her unexpected screech stunning the room into silence.

A warm flush erupted across my cheeks. I looked at Michael, allowing a fleeting look at Jason who appeared unfazed by the watchful eyes.

"Did I say something wrong? Well, I'm sure you'll survive," Sam said.

Who was this person? She sure as hell did not represent the Sam I knew.

"Sam, that's enough—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, have I embarrassed you?" she said, a sarcastic smirk distorting her face.

"For Christ sake, will you just shut up!" The vomited words exploded from my mouth before it had even registered. All self-possession deserted me. Tears fogged my vision, blurring their shocked faces. "I'm... sorry." The raging blush spread. An urgent need to flee twitching at my feet.