The Heartbroken - S01 E66

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E66

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 66

I had a really bad feeling

about this, so I clenched

my teeth together and

glared at him. “I hate

surprises.”

“You hate everything,”

he offered, taking

forkfuls of pancakes

dripping in syrup and

stuffing his mouth

without pausing. “Oh,

sweet heavens. If living

with you means having

someone cook me

breakfast every

morning, sign me up.”

“First off, there’s no

sign up sheet for you to

sign,” I said. “Second, do

you honestly think I’d

want to spend time

with you, let alone live

with you?”

He grinned. “Oh, I’m

sure. I know you have

trouble admitting how

much you actually like

me.”

God, he was so full of

himself. I just shook my

head and rolled my

eyes. We’ve had this

conversation roughly

fifty times before and I

don’t exactly want to

get into it yet again. I

resolved to be quiet,

but I susrprised myself

by saying, “Thanks, by

the way.”

He tilted his head a bit

to the side and actually

swallowed his food (a

miracle) before asking,

“What for?”

“I always cook for

Mom,” I said, looking

down at my plate,

suddenly wishing I

hadn’t said anything in

the first place. I couldn’t

bear to look him in the

eye. “But she’s never

around. It’s kind of, um,

nice to actually have

someone eat what I

cook.”

“Yeah?”

I didn’t dare look up.

“Yeah.”

Then, silence, but I

swear I could hear his

grin.

—

It took another round

of Seth chasing me

around the house and

threatening to sniff me

before I agreed, panting

and exhausted, to go

along with this surprise

of his.

I had also locked myself

in the bathroom when I

admitted defeat

because he had keys to

the bathroom and I

literally just trapped

myself inside.

“Fine, okay?” I had yelled

through the door, trying

to catch my breath. “I’m

going.”

And so, an hour later,

we were in his car, him

driving and me scowling

in the passenger seat.

He told me to wear

something comfortable

when I was getting

ready, which ay least

made me feel a bit

better because I didn’t

have to worry that we

were going to

somewhere fancy or

weird.

I started to fiddle with

his car’s radio, trying to

find something decent

to listen to.

“I have some CDs in the

glove compartment,” he

said when he noticed

the look on my face as

Nikki Minaj came on the

radio. I could tell by the

shape of his lips that he

was trying not to laugh.

The glove compartment

opened with a muffled

pop and a bunch of CDs

were inside. I’d

expected to find them

messily stashed but

they were pretty

organized, considering

it’s near impossible to

organize stuff in a glove

compartment.

Some were regular

albums and I could tell

that some were mixes.

I got curious about the

mixes, so I chose to

ignore the All Time Low

album.

I pulled one of the

mixes out. The case

had no cover but the

golden CD inside it was

plain, save for words

Catching Juliet written

with a black marker.

He looked over for a

second and I swear I

saw his hand tighten on

the steering wheel for a

second.

I put it in, daring for him

to say something about

it. To tell me to play

something else, maybe,

or just not play

anything at all, but he

didn’t. He just looked

straight ahead, focusing

on the road through the

windshield.

The first track played.

It was Yellow by

Coldplay.

He was quiet. Too quiet.

I waited for him to say

anything, but he didn’t. I

rested my head against

the window and let the

music fill my head. The

next track came. It was

Dare You To Move by

Switchfoot.