Author's Note; For some reason, wattpad deleted my update from yesterday, grr. So then I reposted today, but all of the votes,comments&dedication from yesterday are back and it says I posted yesterday? Hm. Oh, and guys, I really need your help! Who should play Kye? o-o
Sweetly Yours
Chapter Seven; Sweetly Guilty
When in an awkward situation, the best possible thing to do would be to remain completely calm, and work your way around the awkward-ness (is that even a word?), which would hopefully lead to resolving the awkward situation, as well as appearing like a completely normal, sane, definitely not-guilty person.
Of course, it has already been established that fate is out to get me.
So, naturally, I just had to react in the most guilty, awkward way possible.
Yay.
"What . . . wh-wh-what are y-y-ou talking about, Kye," I asked, stuttering and bright crimson. "We . . . no . . . argh!" I took a breath, meeting Kye's amused gaze coolly. "I don't know what you think you're talking about, but you're completely wrong," I said calmly, attempting to keep my tone even and cool.
Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.
Because Kye had, as they say, hit the hammer dead straight, smack bang in the middle of it's shiny, polished head.
Well, in my eyes anyway. Then again, it has also been well established that I'm a blushing, awkward, love sick optimist, so nobody should really trust my judgement, or whatever utter nonsense that spills out of my mouth.
"Of course you don't, Farah," Kye replied bemusedly, leaning back comfortably into the plush seat of the sofa, slowly and steadily twiddling his thumbs together like some big shot business tycoon. All he needed was a crisp, sharp Armani suit, an expensive watch and a lavish office somewhere in the city, and he would play the part brilliantly.
"Kye, just drop it. It's unnecessary, and you're embarrassing Farah. You're just doing it for attention, so just drop it, okay?" Jamie spat at his brother spitefully, a bitter edge to his tone. My heart warmed a little and I fought the urge to break out in a glorious, beaming smile--Jamie was defending me!
Kye held his hands up in surrender, this time no sweets flying everywhere. "Hey, hey, chill out, bro. I was messing around, alright?"
"Just drop it." Jamie's voice was cold, void of any emotion. I'd never seen this side of him before, I suppose I had no reason to, but it made me uncomfortable, standing here watching the two Bright brothers glare at each other . . . over me.
Wow. Talk about a completely unexpected, uncomfortable situation.
Right, if I can just keep my mouth shut, everything should be fine. Under no circumstances should my lips part, unless my nose spontaneously decides not to work, and I can't breathe. Just wait this situation out, and everything will be fine. You'll appear normal and sane, for once in your life.
Silence.
Thick, looming silence took it's hold over the three of us, clouding us and causing a tension that was thick, so thick that not even a knife could cut it.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Nobody backed down.
My lips parted, but I put up a fierce mental barrier, restraining myself from talking, as much as I desperately wanted to. It's not my battle. This is between Jamie and Kye. Don't poke your nose in. Remember all of your books? The main girl always gets in everyone's business, and she eventually pays the price for it.
Mouth shut, lips sealed, voice silenced.
How long had we been silent like this? A minute, maybe two; or was it three? Surely we couldn't stay like this for much longer! This is ridiculous. I should say something. No, no, I shouldn't. Or should I? Decisions, decisio--
Fortunately, Kye decided to break the silence instead.
"You know what? I don't care. It was a joke. Hear that? A joke. Maybe I pushed it over the edge a little, but still. I don't need you all up in my face, Jamie, over a petty joke. I'm out of here," Kye began walking off to the door, but paused, spinning round once again. "Have fun, kiddies."
And then he was gone.
Just like that, all of that heavy tension, the deafening silence, it all drifted away like a feather in the wind. Uplifted, effortlessly.
I turned to Jamie. "You weren't actually 'all up in his face'."
Jamie laughed. Really laughed. "Oh, Farah, you're too sweet and innocent, aren't you? I bet you've never been in--or even seen, a fight. It's just an expression, Far."
Oh.
"Oh, right . . . " I trailed off quietly, embarrassed. Yes, Jamie was right, I had neither been in nor been a spectator to a fight of any kind. Unless you count sibling play fights with Gabby and Cameron when we were young, but I wasn't.
Wait!
Did Jamie just . . . ?
Oh my gosh.
Jamie just called me 'Far'! My nickname! Jamie called me by my nickname!
A bright smile planted itself on my face before I could stop it, and I found myself speechless. Maybe it was a little silly, but of course, being the love sick optimist I am . . .
Nicknames are personal.
Nicknames are used for your friends, family, even lovers. They mark the barrier between acquaintances and the more intimate titles.
Did that mean Jamie considered me as a friend?
Well, life these past few days really have just been filled with surprise after surprise.
" . . . Farah? Hey, is anybody home?" Jamie joked, waving his hand directly in front of my face. My gaze slowly came back into focus from my internal glory, and I gave him an apologetic smile. "Welcome back! Spaced out again? You do that a lot, don't you?"
I laughed sheepishly. "Guilty," I proclaimed with an awkward smile.
"Who's guilty?" The curious voice of Mrs Bright carried through the door, making both Jamie and I jump, guiltily.
"That would be me," I piped up, sounding strangely normal, considering Mrs Bright had just surprised me. Usually, I didn't handle 'surprised' well. Or shocked, scared, awkward, embarrassed, guilty--
Yeah. Any negative emotions didn't really mix well with my whirring mouth that spewed out random words whenever it felt like it, without consulting me, first.
Mrs Bright walked into the room, heading for the kitchen area. "Oh? And what are you guilty of?"
"Farah's a daydreamer," Jamie supplied, warmly smiling at me in a way that made my insides melt.
Mrs Bright nodded, "ah, I see. Nothing wrong with a little daydreaming though, is there? The daydreamers always have the best imaginations."
Well, I did constantly imagine a future with Jamie.
"I suppose," I replied thoughtfully, nodding my head a little.
"Well, you carry on supposing. Now, how did the chat with your mum go?" Mrs Bright asked, a curious edge to her tone. I had a feeling Mrs Bright was part of those a circles of women you saw yapping away in a cafe, all nursing cups of tea, each woman bringing a big juicy dollop of gossip to the table. She seemed to have that eager, curious vibe surrounding her constantly.
I sighed. "Well, she explained to me all about the tyre situation."
Mrs Bright nodded in understand, a sympathetic expression molding her features. "Oh, what a shame, isn't it? Don't worry though, they'll be around tomorrow, guaranteed! Until then, you might as well enjoy this little holiday of sorts, yes?" She laughed, trying to lighten up the mood. To be honest, it was a futile attempt.
I let out a soft laugh, a little forced. "Yeah, I suppose so."
"Mum, just go away," Jamie groaned suddenly, "why even bother conversing? It's just a little on the awkward side, don't you think?"
"Oh, you young ones, nowadays, hey! What are you like? It's not awkward, it's polite, Jamie! Perhaps it's something you should practice more often," Mrs Bright sniffed, "and while you do that, I shall prepare some soup for the rest of our polite family, along with the extremely polite Farah."
Ooh, family snipes.
"What?" Jamie exclaimed, "b-b-but, you can't just not feed me! That's not fair, is it?"
Mrs Bright replied with a blank look.
Jamie huffed. "Please may I have some soup, Mummy dearest, if you would be so kind as to make me some and provide your beloved son with some hearty good food and nutrition?"
Mrs Bright scoffed, "I said polite, Jay, not 'turn into an Old English aristocrat'."
I giggled at Jamie's 'are you actually kidding me' look, it was hard not to.
His little frown, crumpled brow, awe . . . it was pretty cute, as well. D'awe.
"Oh, Jamie my dear, fine, you can have some soup," Mrs Bright sighed, finally giving in. Guess she found Jamie's face too hard to resist, as well.
Jamie's face lit up. "Woo, food!" He pumped the air enthusiastically.
Both Mrs Bright and I laughed. "Oh, what is he like, hey, Farah?" Mrs Bright asked me jokingly.
Gorgeous. Brilliant. Smart. Funny. Attractive. Kind. Lovely. Generous. Carefree. Patient. Charming. Dedicated. Joker.
Perfect.
I replied with a mere, careless laugh, all the while thinking that if people could read my thoughts, I would be well and truly screwed.
Because whether I was happy about it or not, I could feel a stirring inside me.
This crush, on Jamie . . . it was digging itself deeper and deeper, wedging itself into my heart.
I couldn't control it, and I hated that. Hated how I could feel it happening with every smile, laugh, frown of Jamie's. Unwillingly finding myself deeper and deeper every second.
It was scary; for what started out as a petty little first crush, no longer so little and petty. I never expected it to become this intense. Actually, I never thought that any crush would turn out to be this intense.
Love sick optimism brushed aside, I couldn't deny the fact that I was wanting, pining, desperately hungering, hell, even aching, to be with Jamie. To be able to hold is hand whenever I wished, to stroke his cheek, brush those few stray hairs out of his face, lean up onto my toes, and relieve my lips by pressing them softly to meet his. To find out if those luscious lips were as soft and plump as they looked, and would he curl his arms protectively and lovingly around my waist, pulling me close to him? Would it would make my stomach flutter even more than it was now, just thinking about it? Would my toes girl, and my arms slide around his neck without any thought? Would our bodies mould together effortlessly, like we were carved out of marble, fitting like a jigsaw?
Questions, questions, and even more questions.
The extremely sad truth was, that they would probably never be answered. None of them. Ever.
Because in reality, it didn't matter if I was swimming around in the deep with feelings for Jamie floating around everywhere. It was a good for nothing, absolutely pointless fact, if Jamie didn't like me back.
Which he didn't.
Holding in a sigh of hopeless longing, I focused my attention back onto my surroundings. Mrs Bright and Jamie were discussing what bread 'complimented' a soup the best, it appeared.
"Come on!" Jamie cried, "obviously, it's white bread rolls. Just think of dunking a buttery, fluffy piece of a bread roll into the soup, soaking up the liquid but not completely turning to mush . . . mmm . . ."
Mrs Bright cocked an eyebrow, clearly unaffected by Jamie's mouth watering vision. "Please. Croutons and a slice of un-buttered bread are clearly the preferred option."
"Mum, they don't even go together! Croutons are all posh restaurant cuisine, where as un-buttered bread is disgusting and has the whole 'I couldn't be bothered to compliment this delicious soup with a decent side dish' mood about it," Jamie argued back defiantly.
"You know, the main topic in this house is food," I interrupted, voicing my thoughts out loud, "during the time I've been here, I've either been eating, food is being prepared, food is being cleared up, or I'm letting my food go down. The other activities I've done come to about two percent, whereas food makes up the remaining ninety eight."
Jamie grinned, bemused, "and we own a sweet shop."
"That too," I agreed. "Seriously, do you guys ever not think about food?"
Jamie and his mum looked at each other, before shrugging and chorusing in unison, "nah."
I laughed, "well, at least your honest, I guess."
"Honest about what?" Mr Bright's deep tones sounded from the doorway.
"Food," the three of us replied in perfect unison, as if that one simple little word explained everything.
After masking a slight frown, Mr Bright nodded. "Right. Well, I'm just coming through to get a cup of coffee, so you know, don't mind me. You three can get back to your honesty about . . . food."
Now that Mr Bright said that, I'll admit, it didn't sound like we fitted into the definition of normal.
Well hey, it's not as if I fitted the definition of normal, anyway.
We all stood there awkwardly as Mr Bright began to brew his coffee, the strong stentch of the coffee beans mixing in with the water wafting into my nostrils, very much unwanted. Ergh, I really did hate coffee.
Frowning and wrinkling my nose, I turned my back away, wanting to at least attempt to mask the smell. Jamie, seeing this, came over to me, making silent gagging motions with his hands comically. I nodded, quietly laughing.
Before I even knew what was happening, an unexpected, warm, firm hand was sliding through my own, pulling me away gently from the stench of the room, and out into the cool, sweet, floral smelling hallway.
Oh my gosh.
Jamie just took a hold of my hand!
We're hand in freaking hand!
Is this real?
I looked down at out conjoined hands as Jamie continued to lead me swiftly down through the hallway.
Our hands looked so natural. Effortless.
Jamie led me all the way right over to the far end, where I hadn't ventured in my short time spent here. I knew that Kye's bedroom was somewhere down here, and I think a possible second bathroom, but that was it.
Jamie's grasp was warm, gentle, steady, his palm smooth and moulded perfectly to mine.
Butterflies fluttered like rabid bats through my stomach, as Jamie began to open a door at the far end of the hallway.
I hesitated a little, the room dark with no visible windows. Jamie turned back, a soft, inviting expression on his face. "Come on, you will absolutely love this. I promise. Honestly, come on, trust me."
Giving a defeated smile, I nodded, and Jamie proceeded to lead me into the dark room. He dropped my hand, closing the door, instantly enclosing us in a thick blanket of darkness. After a minute of fumbling around, a bright light was cast overhead, and I find myself blinking, eyes adjusting to the light slowly.
Oh, and when they did focus . . .
Well, I was in for an extremely sweet treat.
I just wasn't aware of it yet.