The Heartbroken - S01 E115

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E115

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 115

I made a face, careful

not to deny anything.

“Is that how you really

think about yourself?”

“It’s what you’re

thinking about me,” he

said easily, a crooked

grin replacing the smirk.

“Only you’re in denial

about it.”

I rolled my eyes at this

oh-so-typical Seth

statement. “Whatever

makes you sleep at

night.”

The sound of his

laughter filled the car.

There was something

about it that I really,

really liked. It sounded…

real. That sounded

cheesy, but meh.

“Remember before we

agreed to this?” he

asked me. “This whole

fake relationship thing.”

They were a bit hazy,

but the memory of my

constant, and not to

mention blatant, flirting

with him came to mind.

I wrinkled my nose.

“What about it?”

“Nothing.” He made a

left turn at the corner.

“I’m just glad I got to

know the real you. It

would have been my

loss if I hadn’t.”

I was positive my heart

was lodged somewhere

in my throat, making it

impossible to react in

any way other than try

not to stare at him. I

concentrated on the

small semi-invisible

watermark on the

surface of the

dashboard.

“But the real me is a

b---h,” I managed to

say.

He chuckled. “You’re

getting the hang of this

non-denial thing.” I

scowled, ready to

retaliate, but he added,

“You’re not, by the way.

You’re not a b---h. You

just act bitchy as a way

of coping with your

feelings. It’s not the

best way out there, but

still. It’s like a defense

mechanism of yours.”

“Kinda like how you use

your jokes and humor,”

I pointed out.

“Kinda like that,” he

admitted with a shrug.

There was a moment

of silence as we let the

words sink in. I found

myself thinking about

Hail and how thankful I

was that we managed

to talk earlier. I couldn’t

believe how much I

missed her and how

stupid I was for ever

shutting her out like

that.

“Thank you for earlier,”

I said as I clasped-

unclasped my hands.

“When you told me to

approach Hail and talk

to her.”

“That wasn’t me.” He

was shaking his head,

keeping his eyes on the

road. “That was all you.”

“It wasn’t. You were

the one who told me to

go.” I kept my gaze on

my hands, staring at

them like they were

fascinating beyond

compare. “I wouldn’t

have talked to her if

you hadn’t suggested

it.”

“I think,” he said, “you

would have gone either

way.”

Stunned, I peeked a

glance at him. “You

really think so?”

He turned to me for a

second before

concentrating back on

driving. “If I weren’t

afraid of Alyssa and her

guillotine, I would have

ruffled your hair right

now while saying ‘Of

course,’ but I know

she’d kill me if I ruined

your hair.”

Almost involuntarily, my

lips tugged into a smile.

I looked at him. “How

did you know it was her

who did my hair?”

“She told me.” I saw

him raise an eyebrow

and smile his Seth

Everett smile. “You

know, around thirty

seconds before she

stepped on my foot and

murdered my toes.”

I burst out laughing.

“You mean thirty

seconds before you let

out that girlish yelp.”

He groaned dramatically

before shaking his head

and laughing along with

me. “Well, yeah, that

too.”

The fact that he

admitted it easily made

me laugh again. “Wow,

are you going through a

phase of non-denial,

too?”