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I furrow my brows this time. “But they taught your brother?”
She gives a humourless laugh, shaking her head. “My father thought it would be embarrassing having a son that can’t pick a girl up for a date. He had someone teach him, saying that I will always have him to drive me around.”
I sit there, replaying her words in my mind, trying to wrap my head around them, not believing that someone could be so single-minded to think that it would be okay to teach one child to drive and not the other. But I don’t say anything, knowing that it would do no good. But I will have to eventually rectify this as soon as I can.
The silence lingers until I hear her squirm in her seat, tucking her leg beneath her as she turns to face me, saying with unexpected excitement, “Can we get candy?”
I smile. That is the first place we go to in the store.
Five big bagsof candy and possible case of diabetes later, and we are rolling down each aisle with me pushing the trolley around while Mia walks with a skip in her step behind me, pulling things off shelves and throwing them in without so much as a word.
The ease of this is something I am not used to. I have never shopped with anyone and often avoided it with my parents, but I couldn’t get the amused smile off my face as she skipped ahead and pulled pastry sheets from the shelves before hopping back and throwing them in.
I furrow my brow. “What is that for?”
She looks at me like I've lost my marbles. “For lasagne. I have been craving it like crazy.”
I shake my head. “I’ll pass.” She raises her brows. “I don’t like lasagne.”
Her jaw drops at my explanation. “How could you not love it?! It’s perfect, cheesy goodness.”
I shrug and continue to push the trolley. “I’ve just never had a lasagne I like.”
She stops in front of the trolley, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes dancing with a challenge. “Challenge accepted.” She points a finger at me. “One night this week, I’ll make lasagne, and you will fall in love with it so much, all food will pale in comparison.”
A laugh slips past my lips as she gives me a proud, triumphant smile. “That’s pretty big talk.”
She raises a brow at me. “I didn’t stutter.”
I purse my lips, mulling over her words, amused at the twinkle in her eyes. “Alright, if you wanna make me dinner, I’m not gonna complain.”
She graces me with a huge smile that reaches her eyes, and I can’t help but smile back, but almost as quickly as it appeared, it's gone as she looks at something past my shoulder.
I follow her eyes, seeing a couple of girls that look to be in their early twenties, dressed in jean shorts and crop tops, both blonde and could be twins. They are gathered at the end of the aisle with their eyes moving over me appreciatively. This isn't something that's uncommon, but I'm never a fan of girls whispering and giggling. In fact, it irritates me. I like my women clear and to the point, where you know what you're getting with them, like the woman I am shopping with.
I quickly shake the thought out of my head as I return my gaze to Mia, whose light has faded from her eyes as she looks at me. A smile that doesn’t meet her eyes appears as she gives a nervous laugh. “Can’t take you anywhere.” She shuffles her feet briefly, and before I can say anything, she stammers out while backing her way out of the aisle, “I’m just gonna go get the rest of the stuff for the lasagne. I’ll meet you in the dessert aisle.”
She’s gone before I can say anything, and I am left blinking and speechless as to what had made her practically run from me.
CHAPTER 21
MIA
Itry not to let it bother me. Why the hell does it bother me that some random girls were checking him out? Anyone would, and you’d have to be blind not to see that he is fucking hot, but for them to ogle him with me standing there bothered me. We aren’t together, but they didn’t know that. They shamelessly ogled him, despite the possibility of me being with him.
Why did that bother me so much?!
I feel my jaw clench as I pace the aisle in search of the special sauce I like to use for the lasagne, finding it quickly, grabbing it and making my way to the fridge section that holds the desserts.
My eyes roam over the array of ice creams for those nights I need some comfort.
Chocolate or chocolate chip?
I mull over the options, lost in a sea of ice creams, until I am suddenly pulled to the here and now by a voice I haven't heard in what feels like months, but it has only been weeks.
I spin and am met with a mass of thick curly red hair and big green eyes on a freckled face as a guy from school approaches me with a friendly smile, but it's hard to miss his eyes roaming over me.
That's normal with this guy, Luke Clayson, who would often ask me to hang out when his roommates were at work. I’d never go, but he always persisted. It was never the fact he asked me out, but the fact that he invited me over when his roommates were away, like I was only good for one thing, or I wasn’t good enough to introduce to his roommates. Maybe I am over thinking it, but I just wanted more than what he was offering me.
