Caramel Popcorn

Chapter 8: Guess I am the jealous kind!

It had been about a week since I kissed Flynn. He continued helping me out with economic theory. We spent most of our time in his room. It was somehow less awkward now that we'd kissed once. We hadn't talked about it at all since it happened. He tried bringing it up once but I made it clear that it was not something we should have focused on.

Today was one of those days where Drew wasn't around. I think he did it deliberately. Disappeared when he knew his absence would be appreciated.

It was nearing 10 a.m. and I was already feeling the heaviness weighing me down.

I had managed to gather a significant amount of information on Flynn over the week. You can tell a lot about someone by the way they write their notes. His were meticulous. Clean letters, clearly marked out sections, handwriting so fucking annoyingly perfect. He was a dream. And I hated him for it.

He didn't feel like a real person. He was robotic and I'm sure if we sat still enough I'd be able to hear the mechanical whirring of his system. He played the part of the sexy, sad guy to brooding perfection.

There was a harsh knock on the door just as he finished highlighting something for me. The knock screamed of someone who couldn't wait. The urgency seemed to piss him off.

"Go over that, I'll get the door." He said, handing the book back to me and taking off his glasses, tucking them in his t-shirt, walking to the door.

My head hurt, staring at the neon highlighted words. The words made very little sense but I was trying. I was trying my fucking hardest.

The door opened and I heard him sigh. A sound I had become well acquainted with. And then I heard him cuss. A sound I could get used to.

"What the fuck is it?" He asked, getting himself together.

"I told you I'll keep coming back." Izabelle Carson, in the flesh. My eyes snapped up to her face.

I had heard so much about her. But she looked--different? She wasn't wearing black? She had a reputation for having the most boring fashion sense ever. I suppose even people like her have to grow up in some way.

Something had changed. Obviously.

Today she was wearing a pastel sundress.

"You have to go." I heard Flynn whisper. Of course he's still in love with her. It was evident with how stiff every muscle in his body was.

"No. Every rational, power hungry princess wants be a queen and--who the fuck is in your bed?" Ah. Right. Not invisible. Yet.

I sat up and outstretched my hand for her to shake.

"Hey, I'm Jamie--"

"You look so familiar." She said with a grin on her face. She knew. She knew and she would use it. She wanted me to know that she knew. She wanted me to know that she had all that power over me.

"Jamie needed help with something--"

"Do you really take me for the jealous kind?" She rolled her eyes at him.

"How's Austin doing?" He asked her, his face stone.

"Great. Great. Still an idiot. So tell me Jamie, how's he been treating you?" She kept her eyes on me.

"Oh--uh--"

"How long have you been fucking him?" She asked me without letting me answer her first question but it didn't matter. She knew what she was doing and there was no way I'd win.

"Oh--we didn't--" I blushed, exactly as I was expected to.

"Belle you should go." He said, a little more forcefully this time.