Unwanted Company

When I asked Arthur to go for a walk, I didn't really think about it or thought it would end up being literal given my condition. I also didn't think that seeing John was going to be in the equation at some point. Yes, it is a free country. Yes, he can go where ever he desires and talk to whomever he feels like, but if I knew beforehand that we were going to cross paths I would've taken the longest detour to avoid seeing him. Or I'd simply just stay home and survive my parents shouts with five different tubs of ice cream and a movie with people being eaten by aliens or some larger creature on a rampage.

At this moment I realized that his presence doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. It doesn't make me feel sad or heartbroken, because I don't care. Maybe my mini-breakdown the night before is why that is. The only thing that bothers me at that Arthur had gone tense and is glaring across the table. I'm tempted to whisper that I'm not here even though he can clearly see me, and John's a 4.0 student so fooling him wouldn't be easy.

I sit up with a sigh and open my eyes.

John sits across from us along with Tevin--yes I remember his name now--and Camelia. Camelia was a petite, light-skinned girl. I'm not biased so I won't say she's ugly because she isn't. She has shoulder-length, dark, curly hair, big brown eyes, and always walks around with a big peppy smile on her face. She's nice for the most part.

What I never liked about her though, was that she was always too friendly with John. It never mattered if I was in the room, she'd cling to him like he's her lifeline. He'd brush her off sometimes but others, he'd be too deep in a conversation or just too drained to even try. He'd either wave me over or pull me into him to try and give her a hint.

Now, she's almost sitting on him from how close she is, but I didn't let that affect me. He's not my boyfriend anymore.

He stares at me wordlessly. His hair is a mess, his eyes have bags underneath them, and his shoulders drop forward in a way I haven't seen in a long time. He looks terrible. Like he hasn't slept in days. He never lets himself get like this.

He probably went to a party last night like he does most Fridays and got wasted. The mornings after he usually goes out for coffee. WIth me. So I had no clue why he's here. Maybe their coffee ice cream is enough?

I turn away from his gaze to stare down at the table. To be honest, his staring is making me uncomfortable and something's brewing in my gut akin to guilt. "Uh, hey." I acknowledge them dully all in the name of politeness. I don't know what else to say to them other than that. I play with my ice cream cup in my hands, running my fingers over the perspiration on the outside of the cup as I pray for them to leave.

"What are you doing here?" I can almost hear the rest of that sentence. What are you doing here with him?

"Not here for ice cream that's for sure," I answer lowly, not adding as much wit to my sarcasm as I usually would. I guess that caring less thing I had going on earlier is wearing off. Great.

I lift a spoon of my ice cream and stuff it in my mouth, so I have something to do and somehow make the tenseness leave my muscles.

"I meant, with him." Ah, there it is.

I hate how he was talking about Arthur like he isn't sitting right here. How he said the word 'him' like it was the most repulsive thing in the world.

"I'm not your concern, John. I never was." That seems to shut him up, but it doesn't make me feel as great as it should. I remember his feelings toward Arthur suddenly. Maybe if it was someone else, he wouldn't be so angry. Who am I kidding, yes he would. But I almost facepalmed myself right there. How could I forget?

I don't know why, but John had always had this rivalry with Arthur even though I've never seen Arthur give him the time of day. Once, I thought it was because Arthur played basketball while he played football, but then I thought that was a stupid reason to just not like someone that much. Whenever I'd asked him about it, he'd make it seem like I'm being crazy or something for noticing.

Maybe Arthur will tell me.

Under the table, Arthur's hand reaches over to me and grips the inside of my thigh the same time I swallow. I start to choke and have to force down the rest of my ice cream before coughing violently.

"You okay?" Arthur leans over with a smirk, knowing good well what he's doing.

I glare at him but he only chuckles and sits back up with a smug look on his handsome face. That sly slug! His large hand is still gripping the inside of my thigh with the only movement being his thumb's back and forth over my skin.

"So I see you've-" John is cut off by the loud scraping of a chair against the tiled floor.

Jasmine pulls out the chair next to John and saddles up next to him on his other side. Camelia rolls her eyes with an irritated look on her face. Well, then. This looks promising, I think as I watch John visibly tense. I don't have to look up to know that Arthur's enjoying this.

Jasmine crosses her arms on the table then leans forward on them, her not so large cleavage pushing out of her v-neck tauntingly. I guess.

"Arthur where were you last night, I thought you said you were going to be at the party?"

This is definitely promising.

I turn to look up at Arthur the same time he shrugs. "Had better things to do," he says gruffly, sliding down in his seat.

"I came over," she trails off suggestively. "Just wanted to know if we could do something before..."

When I look back across from me, I catch her stare and she's smirking at me. I don't know why, and it's enough to make me feel awkward and uncomfortable, so I avert my eyes.

Arthur's thumb still moves across my skin when he answers, "Like I said, something came up." He seems calmer now.

"Like what?" Her voice is edgy this time 'round. A second later her eyes are on me, narrowing slightly.

"Something important." If voices could dance, that's what his is doing.

Please, God, let him keep his mouth shut.

"What happened to your neck?" She points at his neck with a perfectly manicured light blue nail. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that she's gesturing to the irregular red spot just below his jaw.

His grin stretches. "Someone important."

At this point I'm fighting to keep the blush from creeping onto my face. I take deep breaths subtly to ensure that I don't give myself away. He thinks I'm important. Maybe it's not me. Maybe it's my mom. I'd have to keep that from my dad though. I really just thought that. Wow. I turn my head to look outside when I feel every pair of eyes turn on me, dear I say, menacingly. One pair burns me a lot more than the others. I know it's John and I blink a couple of times when I feel my eyes stinging.

"You!" Jasmine says accusingly, her voice hard as a rock. I don't look at her because she can't possibly be talking to me, so I keep my gaze outside. My head swings back when there's a loud bang and my eyes immediately meet hers. Pissed doesn't cover what she's feeling.

"What did I do?" I take another spoonful of my ice cream, not dropping my gaze. My nerves tremble in excitement and nervousness all at once.

"You're a slut." She growls out slowly.

I frown, my eyes narrowing in confusion. "But I'm a virgin." I regret the words a soon as they leave my mouth. Why would you say that?  Why don't you just go ahead and tell them when you get your period too!

My face is on fire and I duck my head to hide my expression which more than likely shows my embarrassment. I fold my arms on the table and bury my face in them. It gets deathly quiet after that before two arms wrap around me, one around my stomach and the other around my back, then Arthur chuckling in my ear. "You wanna leave?"

"Please," I whisper. I just want to go home to be swallowed in the safe confines of my bed.

"Wait." That's Camelia. She lets out a disbelieving laugh, looking between me and John. "You guys haven't..."

I sit up straighter, my face no doubt red and not meeting anyone's gaze. But I guess that's enough answer because a gleeful laugh sounds a second later.

"You've been together for two years," Jasmine emphasizes, eyes big as saucers.

"Mind your fucking business," John grits out and I bite my tongue against telling him to watch his mouth. It's probably on my face because when he looks at me again, his expression softens and I know he's about to apologize.

Arthur pushes himself out of his chair and all our eyes move to him. He holds his hand out to me as he watches my expression. I'm hesitant at first because of obvious reasons, but when he tilts his head and gives me that smile, I take his hand and let him help me up.

"Hope you guys have a nice day, yeah," Arthur says, and that's probably the nicest thing I've ever hear him say to kids from school. He grabs our stuff from the table while I try to limp away undetected, but John notices.

Suddenly he's standing in front of me, eyeing the brace on my leg. The worry on his face makes my stomach squeeze. If he could just stop. I'm trying to get over him!

"What happened?"

I chew on my lip. "Know me," I shrug. "I fell."

"How bad is it? Is-"

"I'm fine," I cut him off lowly, my face hot. The next word comes out lower and sharp enough. "Stop." This is not the time for him to care.

"I just need to know if you're okay, at least." He reaches for my hand, and I see him doing it. But it's the last minute until I pull away, that I blink out of his gaze, but not before feeling the sharp sting of static where our fingers touch. My heart lurches but I don't let it affect me. Not outwardly anyway.

"Fine," I mumble.

"Grace-"

I shake my head before he can finish.  "No." I turn to Arthur who's waiting patiently some feet away behind me. "Can we go?"

I'm already limping away when he catches up to me. He gives me my ice cream before his hand latches onto my hip. "All right?" He mutters and I nod. He wraps an arm around my waist to support me as we head toward the exit.

We're almost to the door when his hand wanders across my lower back, just on top of my butt, suggestively. I throw my head back, looking up at him with a tired look on my face. He smiles halfheartedly. I know what he's doing.

"Seriously?"

He shrugs and wraps his arm around my waist again. "I'm petty as fuck."

"Quit cursing!" I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell him that. But I guess it depends on how long this whole thing goes on for.

He leans down to whisper in my ear. "Oh, but you love it, Gorgeous," he says, his voice low and teasing.

He lets go of my waist to push the door open above my head. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." I wave him off, while limping out the store.