THERE was a logical part of me that knew that Reese really couldn't have had anything to do with it, falling on my face was my own fault, gravity and such. I'd never been Angelina Ballerina before. But there was a vehement, gargantuan part that felt that it was most definitely all Reese's fault, clearly evidence of his Lucifer black magic, and that he was very much deserving of all the death glares I continued to burn into him during the car ride to the restaurant.
And well, that part was winning.
I sat in the backseat while holding an ice pack to my chin, the metallic taste of blood still seizing my taste buds, and glared. Catching Reese's eyes in the rear-view mirror, I narrowed my gaze even further. The telekinetic head-exploding trick still wasn't working, but that didn't stop me from trying.
"Oh, c'mon! You can't really think that this is my fault, do you?" he asked with a chuckle, eyebrows raised.
My expression didn't change. "Don't tell me how to think, Powers."
"You fell on your own! How could I have anything to do with that?"
"One, you're the antichrist. Two, you are actually Lucifer re-born. Three, you're the worst. Pick your favorite," I drawled, still staring daggers into Reese's face, and earning a giggle from Savannah next to me.
"Oh come on, guys, seriously? You all think I could possibly have anything to do with this?" His eyes darted between Savannah and Tyler for help.
The blonde shrugged and a chuckle reverberated in Tyler's throat as he gave a sheepish grin. "She makes a pretty convincing case, Reese. I don't know if I can choose."
"Thanks Tyler," I chirped, smiling faintly.
I was banking on this home-field advantage to get me through the night.
There was still a dull ache that was gripping tightly to my bruising chin, but I'd already accepted my blue-black fate. Shovelling expensive steak in my mouth might not have been a perfect cure-all, but it was a start, at least.
When we'd finally parked and clambered out of the car, a cool breeze invited us into the twilight. Goosebumps pricked on my arms and I shivered, jumping from foot-to-foot as I waited for Reese to finally climb out. Of course he'd take his sweet-ass time.
Savannah rubbed her arms next to me, and I rolled my eyes. "Before we're ninety would be nice, Reese. Savannah would probably like to keep all her extremities for now, and the temperature's dropping."
"I'm okay," she said softly, but I ignored her. It was beyond her at this point.
I tapped my foot impatiently. "Lips are turning blue, here!"
"I promise, the food is not going anywhere, you're going to live," Reese mockingly reassured me as his feet finally touched the gravel, and I shot him an unimpressed look. Before he could say another word, I turned on my heel and darted inside, uncaring if Reese followed or not.
Inside was decorated with no expense spared, all glittering chandeliers, luxurious dark wood, and perfectly ironed table cloths enveloped in a warm glow. Other than my brother's graduation and maybe a birthday here and there, my dine-out experiences usually consisted of the Taco Bell variety, maybe a Subway thrown in there for good measure. So to say that I was impressed was an understatement, and I was thankful that I wasn't underdressed.
"This is what we call a restaurant, my dear hobbit, please, don't get too excited," Reese mused next to me, a smirk carved into his face.
Immediately a sneer twisted on my mouth. "I officially have lowered the three-second rule to a two-second rule, try to look at Savannah for longer and I will choke you out with one of these tablecloths."
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Fraternizing with the EnemyChickLit
(alternatively called: slow burn, second-hand embarrassment, and shenanigans) A girl made up of short fuses, clumsy feet and copious amounts of sarcasm has to team up with her irritatingly obnoxious neighbour in the name of love (also known as ragin...