Chapter 7: She seems to deserve better [dinner part II]
Vanessa.
That name itself was already perfect. She was the definition of perfect. Her body could easily be everyone's dream.
"Lyss?" I heard Summer call and soon after, a knock could be heard on the wooden door of the bathroom.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
I'm not sure how I'm feeling and it sucks so I don't know, you tell me. I wanted to say that, but of course, I couldn't.
"Yeah... I t-think I'm still sick," I lied.
Maybe I was though. Maybe all these feelings were because of one and one reason only, and that was because I was still sick.
Oh, who am I kidding?
"Really?" uncertainty was laced in her voice, and she didn't bother hiding it.
"Yeah," I coughed a little.
Thank you drama class.
"Alright, you could probably go rest. We'll keep some food for you in the fridge," you could hear that she was smiling, like a concerned mother would when her child was sick.
I heard her light footsteps start to leave, and I released a breath I didn't know I was holding and gasped for oxygen. In a confined, small bathroom, it didn't do much.
After making sure - god knows how I even did that - that Summer had left and went back to the dining table, I left the toilet and creeped out, careful not to make any floorboard creek. They knew I was in the house, yet I felt the need to be quiet either way.
"What are you even doing?" I heard Vince's familiar voice speak, and I jumped. Literally. I think I went at least ten inches off the ground, and since I'm not the tallest girl ever, I didn't reach the ceiling. And the Waldorff's had pretty low ceilings.
"Going back to Summer's room?" It came out more as a question, but I coughed and covered it up.
Apparently, my oh-so-good acting didn't work on Vince. How? I have no idea.
"Are you okay with this dinner?" Vince asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course! I mean, have you even tried Zak's cooking? It's amazing. If he ever gets fired, I guarantee he could get into Masterchef. I bet if Gordon Ramsay tried his coo-" I rambled on, but Vince cut me off. For the good or bad, I'll find out.
"I mean, are you okay with this dinner? With Vanessa there?" he asked, and you could practically see a ghost smirk on his lips, as if he couldn't wait to break into a smirk.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
His eyes roamed to my chest for a while, before he blinked, and blinked, then looked back at me.
Pervert much.
"You just seem... Jealous," he shrugged.
"Me? Jealous?" I scoffed and laughed out loud, "Jealous of what? That she's way out of your league? She seems to deserve better."
It was a dick move, I admit. I didn't realize it was coming out of my mouth until I heard myself saying those words.
He flinched but regained his posture almost immediately.
"Then who's within my league? You?" he asked, copying my actions and crossing his arms over his chest.
"No, bu-"
"Whatever."
And he walked away, his fists closing and opening, closing and opening.
It seemed almost impossible that such a small talk could pierce needles into my chest, stabbing and retracting, stabbing and retracting.
Perhaps my lack of experience in either boys or relationship didn't help. But all I knew is, I was sick. The pain in my chest was enough for me to fall sick.
I headed to Summer's room and cuddled under the sheets with the laptop and hard disk on the bed-side table. Tonight wasn't a good night, and all I wanted to do was to watch Supernatural while in bed.
Apparently, even Dean Winchester couldn't get my mind off things. No matter how cool it was that he went to hell but came back as a human could make me forget about the little talk Vince and I had.
He just would not leave my head.
---
"Hey," Summer said as she entered the room.
"Hi."
"She's gone, y'know," she said, before heading over to her side of the bed and flopping down.
"Who?" I finally looked up from the laptop screen and raised my eyebrow at her.
"Vanessa."
"And I'm in the picture, how?"
"You're jealous," she smiled, kind of like a hybrid of a smirk as well.
"No, I'm not."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she rolled her eyes, "and even though you say you're not jealous, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I tried to that night when you were up, but Vince appeared. And it's sort of his business to say."
"I'm not jealous!" I raised my hands up exasperated.
"Sure honey."
"Where's your boyfriend?" I huffed, annoyed by the fact that she's set on that I'm 'jealous'.
"Oh, he left. Aunt Meg too, you've just been cooped up in here too long," she shrugged.
I sneaked a peek at the clock and realized that it's been three hours since dinner. I'd been sat here, with the laptop on my lap, watching Supernatural for three straight hours.
"How long have they been together anyways?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
I guess it's true when they say curiosity killed the cat.
"About a year. Almost the same as Taylor and I, considering I helped him," she said, and my eyes widened.
"You helped him get Vanessa?"
"Now what's that about you not being jealous?" she wriggled her eyebrows and smirked.
"Whatever..." I muttered and threw the duvet off of me.
My stomach was now growling like an angry werewolf. The rumbling in my tummy didn't stop. I was so hungry.
Why wouldn't I be? I skipped dinner. In fact, Zak's awesome-delicious-and-amazing dinner.
"Is Vince still downstairs?" I asked.
After that little heated - or what it seemed to be to me - talk with Vince, I thought he was a little mad at me. Yes, it was a dick move. But that didn't seem to stop the unknown feeling from sgowing through.
"Nope, went straight to his room once dinner was over."
"Alright," I sighed and headed downstairs, in need of food that for once wasn't Fruitloops.
Mentally slapping myself for not putting on the fuzzy socks I had bought a few days ago, I walked down the icy, marbled floor.
As I reached the kitchen walk-in, I saw Vince sitting down on one of the island stools. My eyes widened and I backed away as slowly and as softly as possible. I didn't need this now.
Or course, life hated me and I tripped over my own leg.
Letting out a squeal due to the shock, I felt butt-flat on the ground and the pain started to work.
My mind started to think of the number of days I had to go to the bathroom, gingerly sitting down as the bruise I knew was going to form shot multiple needles into my ass.
My wrist felt sore as well, since I fell on it along with my butt. I knew it wasn't sprained though. Guess those sessions of netball during physical education in school did help after all. I'd sprain my wrist once while playing netball, so I knew how it felt like.
Sucked though, for I didn't get to play netball for a few weeks and I loved that sport. Probably the only sport I'm willing to do.
"Can't seem to face me?" Vince hovered over me and raised his eyebrows.
I looked down and sighed. I have no choice but to face him after all.
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Author's Note: two updates in a day what?¿ I just figured it'd be better to post dinner part I and II on the same day so none of you would forget about what had happened.
how do you like the book so far? x