The Darkest One Ch. 11 Mysteries and Dilemmas (Edited)

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Chapter 11 Mysteries and Dilemmas   

It was just awkward. The movie was over, thank goodness for that but apparently Jet or Kendra, probably both, had heard Savannah’s suggestion about dinner after the movie. So not only did I have to sit through a movie- with Vincent constantly poking me in the ribs, now I had to sit through dinner with him too. Why he couldn't just pay attention to his own date beat me! I was supposed be a third wheel with Tyler but Vincent had been acting like he was my date all night long. And he was not a very good one either!

“If you had just shared the popcorn, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

I looked up from my plate, “Even if I had shared my popcorn with you, we would still be here.”

“What do you mean your popcorn?” Vincent’s eyes narrowed.

“It was mine because I paid for it!”

“I chipped in money!”           

“Yeah, fifty cents for a slushy that I still had to pay for!”

“But I shared it with you!” He protested.

“By trying to dump it down my shirt!”

The two of us fell into an uneasy silence but the others seemed to have no problem keeping conversation going between them. They were all giggling and making goo goo faces at each other, only Jet and Emma, not Kendra. That would just be weird if. If Kendra had been involved it would have been weird.

It was disgusting to watch. But I was sure the three of them were having the time of their lives.

Meanwhile Tyler and I had to deal with Kendra’s run away date. I was actually excited to have Tyler to myself for the whole night, if I pretended they were all strangers, not that I would admit that. I glanced over at him. He looked tensed and the longer Vincent kept talking the more his jaw clenched. A pain in the side of my ribs brought me out of my thoughts and I glared at Vincent. Then the idiot did it again.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop poking me.”

“No thanks.” He poked me again.

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“Why shouldn’t you?’

“Why should I?” Poked again.

“It is the nice thing to do.” A bruise was going to form from the amount of times he had poked me.

“I’m not nice.”

“Well you should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” I was going to kill this kid.

“Seriously stop it.”

“Seriously no.” I felt my temper rising.

“I mean it. Stop poking me.”

“Still not going to stop.” I felt like I was going to blow at any moment.

“Stop poking me.”

“But it’s fun.”

“No. No it is not.”

“It is for me.” He poked me, several times in a row.

“Stop it!”

“Nah.”

“Stop!”

“Nah.” It was official; I hated him.

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