36 ~ Sour as the Grinch

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sweet baby jesus this book has like no conflict at all it's basically just a piece of fluff rolling around and around in a puddle of filler chapters, and I feel like there's no proper character development or anything at all, don't mind me I'm just whining.

also I totally suck at kissing scenes, I'm so awkward.

Also this is dedicated to CutiePieAmy because she made me a wonderful cover that totally blew my head up like a balloon! :) thanks bb (she made me like ten billion and they're all adorable)

Chapter 36: Sour as the Grinch

I didn't have time to even react the words Lottie had said before she sprang off my lap and held her hands to her mouth, looking horrified. My eyes widened in confusion. She didn't say that. She couldn't have said that. "Pardon?" I asked.

"I-I...uh, I'm-ah-" She restarted her sentence too many times to count, and then frantically back-pedalled, moving to the door.

I got to my feet, and felt my heart plummet to my feet. She was in love with me? Then why did she look as if she wanted to throw up?

"Lottie," I said. I started to walk towards her, but she held up her hands. I stopped abruptly. A flicker of hurt pricked my chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She rubbed her face and looked at me with forlorn eyes. "York is a lovely place and I'm very glad for you. Plus, Uni of York is a really good school," she continued. "Don't mind me." A proud smile grew on her face, and it irritated me because the one time somebody ever looked proud of me was the one time I didn't fucking want it.

I furrowed my eyebrows. The muscles in my arms tensed in complete and utter annoyance. How exactly was she able to look so genuinely happy for me, but at the same time look like I had just fucking stabbed her through the heart?

"You turned off the cooker, right?" she asked when I didn't respond.

"Yes," I said through clenched teeth. I heard the blood pump in my ears, and knew that my expression was growing steadily darker.

Lottie didn't notice, because she'd turned her back to me and ran away. What was she doing?

I stalked out of her room with my back flat as a board and my hands shaking from the effort I was going through to not punch the nearest thing I saw. I stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, slightly out of sight, and spotted her leaning against the fridge. She had her eyes tightly shut, and then took a deep breath and stood upright.

I edged back and leant against the back wall, tipping my head back. She could bounce back so easily when I couldn't. I felt like there was a spidery, metal-fingered hand wrapped like a band around my chest, making it hard to think.

Did she even love me? The doubt started creeping into my mind.

Fucking fuckity fuck fuck.

How could I claim I loved her when I questioned her like that? She was just being regular, selfless, considerate Charlotte Carter. 

And I had never hated it more.

I wanted her to be selfish. I wanted her to ask me to stay, because by now, I'd do anything for her. I didn't want to go to York. I liked my classes at Manchester. I liked my apartment and I liked being near Clark. Mrs Wallace needed me to take care of Queenie. I wouldn't be staying just for her, but I needed some push.

I stepped quietly into the kitchen, where Lottie had her head down, quietly peeling potatoes on the island counter. I swallowed and strode over to her, slamming my hands on the counter opposite her. She jumped and glanced at me. Her eyes didn't have that sparkle in them, but she still managed a smile.

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