The Cupids

0

WHILE PEOPLE kept prating about Miles Lomax and Regina Shreiner's breakup at Freddie Chen's birthday party last night, my attention was elsewhere―the soccer team's usual spot. Actually, I only focused on Devin, who's apparently listening to whatever Patch was telling him.

His blond hair styled in a quiff; eyes were as blue as the deepest part of Atlantic. And that charming smile showing off his dimples? I was enchanted like the first time. But before I could blink another eye, my brother, Patch, was already hollering Carver across the cafeteria. Just enough for everybody to focus on the team's star forward, Trent Carver.

I braced myself for the incoming surge of tiny squeals from most underclassmen.

"C'mon, is he the only guy in this planet that they really have to squeal like dying raccoons? Seriously. He's no Zac Efron." I snorted before facing now-wide-eyed Stella, as though I caught her stealing a jar of Nutella from a grocery store.

She seemed a bit fazed from what I just said. "I—I swear, I didn't squeal."

"I didn't say you did."

"Oh... yeah, never mind," Stella pushed her glasses up, her cheeks turning red while frantically taking a bite of her club sandwich as Patch, my idiotic kind of a brother, started drumming on their table with pet bottles for Trent's approach.

I had to do a double take.

"Wait. You don't say," I gasped from the sudden realization. Make it a triple take. "Oh my goodness! You have a crush—"

"Peyton," Stella warned. I raised an eyebrow when she averted my gaze. "So what if I have a crush on him? He's the only guy I find likable here in school."

"Likable?" This cracked me up that I even managed to earn a glare from Stella.

I couldn't believe it! She had a crush on Trent Carver. Not that she couldn't be infatuated with, well, real boys. But this just seemed so far-fetched right now. Because the last time I checked, she had zero tolerance for overrated boys like him.

He wasn't Stella's type.

"He's a pretty cool guy, and he's nice to everyone. What's there not to like?" she said, her eyes wandering over the jock's table.

She really liked him, huh. I wouldn't exactly call him nice. He hadn't done anything wrong to me but the mere fact that he would get himself involved in my brother's shenanigans? Certainly not.

"You've got it bad."

"No way," Stella protested.

"Sure, bet he's a keeper." I said sarcastically.

Her hands instantly hovered over her face. "Shut up!"

"Aw," I teased. "Getting coy now, are we?"

This was the reason why we hardly ever talked about boys, because the teasing part was pretty much accustomed for us BFFs since mentally dating fictional characters and hot celebrities had severely congested our hypothalamus.

To put it simply, we were self-proclaimed losers.

Besides, there was no way in hell I would tell anyone anything about the boy I liked. I was just not the type.

"Excuse me, but―"

"Since when have you been bitten by a lovebug?"

Stella sighed in defeat. "I don't know. I mean, we've talked a few times since he's basically my new lab partner."

"So, you're lab partners now?" I slumped on the backrest. "You never told me about this. And lab partners don't talk a few."

"Fine! We had small talks, alright. Mostly about lab work or soccer, or our neighbor's dogs shitting on my mother's lawn—many times, but just recently," she stared at her milkshake. "I mean, we rarely have long conversations like this. And it doesn't really matter, you know."