{13}

Chapter 13: (Olivia's POV) Why did I just say that? Why did I just tell him that I don't actually hate him? So, the secret comes out. I don't hate him. I can't. I could never. Well, I could, I just choose not to. Yes, he is a pain in the ass. Yes, he's annoying. Yes, he's petty. Yes, he stole my first kiss, broke my ankle, and soaked me and my locker with water balloons. But he's Ethan Miles Archer. It's almost impossible to hate him. He's always in trouble but… regardless. He's so sweet, he's always grinning, always smirking, always flirting with everyone but I think that's just who he is. "Wait, you don't hate me?" he sputtered. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?" I asked, both of us stopping in the middle of the street. "Excuse me," a man said, pushing past us. Both of us stepped to the side, me leaning against the wall of a store, him standing right in front of me. "I just… you've sort of always… I don't know. I felt like it was a message I was reading loud and clear. You hate me," he shrugged. I shook my head, "I don't hate you. I had to at least act like it though. I thought you hated me. And anyway, you did everything you could to annoy me," I scoffed, "I always thought you were annoying, I still do. I just never… hated you," I shrugged, "I mean, you're not cruel. Just the Devil's Bellboy," I grinned. We both stayed silent and it was getting awkward so I was about to suggest going to the movies but apparently, Ethan thought it would be better if he kissed me. I nearly pushed him off because I was so confused as to what the hell he was doing but then I realized he was probably only doing it because Annabelle was watching or something. I took the chance while I had it and kissed him back, it's an opportunity I don't get every day but I really wouldn't mind having it that way. He's a good kisser. I pulled away moments after he deepened the kiss and looked across the street. I didn't see them there. "I think they left," I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I think they did," he mumbled, taking a step back. "Where were they?" I asked, running a hand through my hair. "What?" He blinked. "Weren't they looking?" I questioned. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he nodded, "They were at that store," he pointed to that direction randomly. "Oh, okay," I nodded in response. "Okay," he mumbled. "Okay, um, do you maybe wanna go to the movies, or do you have plans for today? I don't have anything to do at home," I said, changing the subject abruptly. "Yeah, no, I don't have any plans, we can go to the movies," he shrugged. So, we went to the movies. And sat there in the theatre next to each other, staring at the big screen. We weren't talking at all. Why is it so awkward? We've kissed before and it wasn't this awkward last time we did. I let out a breath, putting my arm on the armrest, immediately pulling it back when I found Ethan's hand already there. "Sorry," I mumbled. "You're fine," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling it over the armrest, holding his hand in mine. I turned to him. "You keep fidgeting with the cup holder, it's annoying," he mumbled, his eyes focused on the screen and the movie playing in front of us. "Sorry, I'll stop," I whispered. "Stop saying sorry, you didn't do anything," he chuckled. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Stop apologizing, Oliver. You haven't committed a crime just yet," he said, finally turning to me. "Sorry," I said under my breath. "I heard that," he whispered. I fell silent and stared at the screen even though I wasn't processing one bit of what was going on in the movie. I actually don't even know what movie we're here to watch. "Why are you acting so weird?" he whispered. "Huh?" I snapped out of my thoughts. He tugged on my hand that he was holding and pulled me closer. "Why are you acting so weird?" he repeated. "I am?" I acted dumb. "You didn't the last time I kissed you," he said, turning to me. "I'm not acting weird," I denied. "Yes, you are. And it's definitely because I kissed you," he nodded. "No," I lied, very horribly. Sometimes even the greatest liars can't lie, all right? "It's not a big deal, okay? I thought we both already established that we're going to have to kiss occasionally," he said, "And I didn't think you would be making a big deal out of a kiss," he rolled his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked, pulling back. "Not what you're thinking," he huffed, pulling me closer again. "I just mean, this was your idea. The whole fake dating thing. Now that we're doing it, you can't expect that we're never gonna kiss, am I wrong?" "No," I huffed. "Kissing isn't a big deal, it doesn't mean anything. Normally, it would but our case is somewhat an exception, don't you agree?" I stared at him. "It doesn't make such a huge difference," he said, looking from my eyes to my lips. He leaned down and kissed me again, shorter this time before pulling back and looking at me. "See?" Kisses really don't bother him? More specifically, kissing someone he doesn't have romantic feelings for doesn't bother him? It sure as hell bothers me. Because I don't kiss the people I don't have feelings for. And I most certainly do not have feelings for him. Right? Right, yeah, right, obviously. "I'm not bothered about your kisses," I huffed, wiping my lips. "Don't wipe off my kisses, that's rude," he frowned. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand out of his and turning to the screen, determined to act like this whole moment just never happened. He grabbed my hand and locked his fingers with mine, holding it firmly when I tried pulling away. "You are very annoying, I hate you," I mumbled. "No, you don't," he retorted. *＊✿❀○❀✿＊* I mumbled something in my sleep when I felt myself being lifted. Just to catch you up, we watched the movie and then hung around town for a really long time and got dinner and then he dropped me home but judging from the fact that he has to pick me up, I'd say I knocked out in the car itself. He kicked his car door shut and started walking to my porch. He sighed when we got there, not knowing where to put me. I can't let him know I'm awake. He sat me down on one of the chairs and grabbed my purse, taking my keys out and opening the front door, putting the keys back in my purse. He picked me up again and started walking inside, kicking the door shut on his way in. "My God, Olive," he grunted, adjusting his grip. "Don't call me fat," I said without opening my eyes. "I fucking knew you were awake," he laughed. "You just called me fat, there's no way you're getting away with that," I said. "I didn't call you fat. You're not fat, it's very easy to pick you up, I just had to know I was right. You are awake," he said while pushing my bedroom door open and putting me down on the bed. He set my purse somewhere, I heard the keychain hit a table and then pulled my shoes off. "I didn't know you weren't capable of walking on your own," he said while sitting on the edge of the bed. "I am perfectly capable of walking on my own, but why would I do that when I have my lovely boyfriend who can carry me?" I asked, laying on my side, my back facing him and I hugged my pillow. He grabbed my waist and had me lying flat on my back before putting his head down on my stomach, staring at the ceiling. I finally opened my eyes and saw him lying there. "I still don't understand why you chose me for this? Why didn't you just get a real boyfriend, wouldn't that make this easier for you?" he asked, turning to me. "When I saw Justin there, I didn't have a boyfriend, remember? That's kind of the whole point. After we broke up, I wanted to stay single for a little while. I had to get back to myself first. But then I saw Justin, and my mouth was running before I even knew it. You were the first guy I saw there, if I would have gotten a few more options, you wouldn't be in this mess. But… sucks to suck. You're stuck with me," I shrugged. "Well, if it helps, I wouldn't want to be stuck with anyone else." I stared at him in surprise. "You're fairly easy to deal with, you don't throw fits like any of my exes have and you most certainly don't act like a barbie or a hooker, and you're not a straight-up bitch. You are a bitch, just bearable. But you're lucky you've got a pretty face, some things you say annoy the crap out of me," he chuckled. He just called me pretty. What the fuck? . . . . . Chapter 13