Chapter Twenty

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It's short and badly written. Please forgive me :(

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“Are you kidding? You have a way better butt than me.”

            I shake my head at Ava, who’s staring down at me from her seat on the countertop incredulously. “Maybe so, but you’ve got the bigger boobs. Boobs over butt, any day.”

            For any other person, this probably wouldn’t be a normal conversation, let alone something they’d be willing to discuss in public. Well, you know, if you can count the almost-empty restaurant as public. However, for Ava and I, conversing about one another’s best assets is just one of the ways we try to pass the time on a tedious Thursday afternoon shift.

            Needless to say, at four in the afternoon, there’s not much demand for heavy platefuls of burgers and fries or sundaes the height of a small child. That’s probably the main reason why our only customers are the slightly (and by slightly, I mean very) overweight couple chomping onion rings by the window, and the pregnant woman at table seven who seems to be eating not only for two, but as if she’s got an entire town in her uterus. Business usually picks up after five, but until then, Ava and I have no choice but to find our own means of entertainment.

            Hence the whole “your butt is way better than mine” discussion.

            Ava folds her arms over her chest. “They’re not even big!”

            “Bigger than mine,” I say. “At least you can actually fill out something more than a training bra.”

            An amused smile creeps onto her face. “So why are you the one with two guys drooling over you?”

            “They do not drool over me!” I protest, before another thought pops into my head. “Wait, what do you mean two guys? Who else are you talking about?”

            She rolls her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

            “Apparently not.”

            “Oh God, Georgie,” she says, with an exaggerated groan, “are you an idiot? Connor?”

            “You have got to be kidding.” Now it’s my turn to shoot her an incredulous look. “We are talking about the same person here, right? Connor Murphy? The guy who inexplicably hates my guts and is constantly out to get me?”

            “Or so you think.”

            “It’s true! Believe me, I think I would’ve noticed if Connor was “drooling over me”, or however you want to phrase it. We haven’t had a conversation in weeks. Not to mention now I’ve started dating Nathan he hasn’t stopped shooting me daggers. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure those aren’t common signs that a guy likes you.”

            It’s been a full two weeks since the carnival and my relationship with Nathan is still going strong. Well, as strong as you can get when the affection’s almost one-sided, that is. I’ve been making sure to play up the dating game whenever Connor’s in earshot, but other than shooting me looks I’m sure are intended to kill, there hasn’t been much in the way of a different reaction.

            I’m not sure what I expected, really. A chivalric brawl in the hallway between Nathan and Connor over my honor? Yeah. Like that’d happen.

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