Chapter 9 : Movie dates and Lying Bestfriends
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I was whistling to myself as I made my way down the boys staircase and into the common room where I was sure I would find Dominique. It was a nice day outside. The sun was out, the temperature had dropped from its insanely high mark, and there was a nice breeze coming in through the window. Ah, the cool breeze of October.
When I found her, she was flipping through a thick magazine that was laying on her lap. “How’s my favorite cousin in the whole wide world?” I ask immediately, grinning, as I plopped down on the couch beside Dominique.
“What do you want, James?” she asks me without lifting her eyes from the page.
“Now what in the world makes you think that I want something?”
“You’re being nice to me.” She answered bluntly.
I stared at her incredulously, but all too soon, I dropped the act, knowing that I’d have to be a fool to believe that I would be able to lie to Dominique. “I need a favor.”
“Albus came to me the other day, asking me for a very interesting favor himself.” I begin.
“Are you going to pass that favor onto me, or are you going to ask one of your own?” she asked nonchalantly.
“He asked me to go on a double date with him.” I said, ignoring her questions. “And I agreed—not that I had a choice.”
“What’s the favor, James?” she asked, in a voice that indicated she was already tired of my evasiveness, while she continued flipping through the magazine.
“I need you to get Victoria ready.” I finally said. “Don’t tell her what’s going on, just get her dressed—make her pretty, whatever you girls do before a date. She’s a little bit angry with me, so she won’t agree to it if I ask her.”
Dominique snorted. “Of course she’ll agree to it, she’s in love with you.”
“Er. . . yes, but that’s besides the point.” I said before standing up. “Just get her ready, will you? Get her to meet us here by four.”
She waved her hand. For a moment, I thought that she was going to decline my request, but then she spoke, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I love you Domie!” After giving her a nice, wet kiss on the cheek, I ran up the stairs and into my dorm.
Albus owes me big time.
Well if I were to get all technical, this is me repaying my brother.
“Al, you need to bloody relax.” The exasperation in my tone was becoming more and more obvious by the second. For the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been trying to convince Albus that this was girls’ thing. They were always ‘fashionably’ late. Frankly, almost 70% of the time, their lateness exceeds the ‘fashionable’ amount, which just makes them irritatingly late.
Who in the name of Merlin ever thought that being late was ‘fashionable’?
“What if she suddenly changed her mind and wants to back out?” he asked frantically with wide eyes. “What if she realizes what she’s getting herself into and ran away?”
I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I mean, honestly.” He ran his hand through his hair; a nervous habit that he and I share. “Who would be crazy enough to get themselves involved with a family like ours? We’re bloody mental, we are.”
I almost chuckled. I would have if I wasn’t so bloody annoyed at the moment. Both his date and my own was late, and I was the one dealing with the bloody consequences. “Look, mate. If I have to tell you to relax one more time, my fist is going to magically make its way up your ar—”
My jaw suddenly found its way to the cold, hard floor.
Victoria suddenly appeared from the stairs, looking. . . well fuck. She looked nice. Yes, I’m aware that the adjective ‘nice’ isn’t exactly the term most girls search for from a bloke before a date. What was I supposed to do? Drop my jaw and bluntly admit that she looked downright ravishing? That I wanted to rip her clothes off her skin and have my way with her right here, right now?
Dominique had certainly done her part. Victoria looked. . . I really hate to admit it, but she looked absolutely stunning. Her wild, curly hair had been straightened and tamed, falling close to her waist. She had put on a white, frilly, laced camisole (I went through a treacherous night learning the difference between a shirt and a camisole from my darling sister after I managed to ruin her expensive camisole when I attempted to do laundry the muggle way for the first time in my life) above a turquoise colored tank top and her long legs were exposed by faded denim shorts—shorts that I, in less than three seconds flat, became a huge fan of.
“Victoria.” Keep it cool, bro.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Albus’ shameless display of disappointment upon realizing that my date, instead of his, was the one who had just arrived.
“Is this your doing, Potter?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
I smirked my James Potter smirk. “It most certainly is.” Before she could say anything else, I quickly approached her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Albus is watching us, baby.” I whispered. “We’re dating, remember?”
I could hear her growl under her breath.
It was a strangely arousing sound.
But getting back to the matter at hand.
“Hey Al,” Victoria greeted, peeking over my shoulder to get a good look at my brother.
“Hey.” Without even turning around, I knew that Al had probably jumped about fifty feet off the ground as the second female of the night joined us. “Sorry I’m late. My friend got caught up in this thing with this guy, and fish nets were involved and a pair of pantyhose—” she raised her hand and stopped in mid sentence. “It’s a long story, and will probably make me seem like I’ve gone bonkers.”
Ginger Star was a redhead—I guess her name screamed it out already—with bright purple eyes and a banging body. She was the girl next door; the girl that Albus had been to afraid to speak to since he was eight. Her parents were muggles, which consequently drove them to our doorstep once they found out that their little girl was a witch.
I turned around, and clapped a hand onto Albus’ shoulder. “She’s a keeper, mate. I think she’ll fit right into our family, don’t you?” And with a wink, I left him standing there while he racked his brain for a ‘hello’ or a ‘you look pretty today’.
Before I managed to step over the entrance of the common room, I heard a feeble “Your hair smells nice,” and resisted the urge to smack my palm to my forehead.
I’ve got a lot of work to do.
At the risk of sounding like an utter, arrogant prick, I—being James Sirius Potter, the son of the savoir of the world—am an amazing date. I’m serious. I’ve been told countless of times, and all the girls in the school know it. I know how to take a girl out. I know what to do to make her blush and I know the right things to say to earn a small, cute giggle. I know all the right things to say to get me right where I want to be.
But before I dive into the dirty details—on this delightful evening, I found myself in a little dilemma.
I was sweating like a pig.
I was stuttering like a child incapable of speech.
I was fidgeting like there was no fucking tomorrow.
I felt like I wanted to puke, and I haven’t even consumed any alcohol for the night.
What the bloody hell was wrong with me?
I decided to take the three out on a night in Muggle London. After sneaking away to Hogsmeade, we found a working floo network in the Hogshead Inn and flooed out here with the intentions of a Muggle movie and ice cream. It wasn’t anything special, but it would do.
Albus and Ginger were as awkward as ever, and Victoria was still strolling down the silent treatment road. Even though she was horribly failing at it—every now and then she would get fed up with my annoying comments and send me snippy yet cold retorts—she persisted with the silence until we finally reached the muggle movie theater at the end of the road.
“So. . .” I began, finding it incredibly uncomfortable to be bathing in awkwardness. “What movie shall we see?”
“How about a Horror film?” Ginger suggested enthusiastically. “The movie ‘Insidious’ was just released, and I’m dying to see it.” She finished excitedly with a small smile on her face.
I almost died trying to suppress my laughter.
Albus was a baby when it came to horror films.
You would think that us Potter men were brave and strong. Not Albus. Behind that Potter smirk of his, he’s the baby Potter—the only one out of the three that mum still considered her baby. Even Lily had grown out of the baby stage, much to dad’s dismay.
“Sure.” Albus shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not? I don’t think you want to be showing Ginger, the girl of your dreams, that you are capable of blubbering like a baby when it comes to horror films.
“I’ve been wanting to see that too!” Victoria exclaimed, surprisingly.
I turned to her with a bemused expression. “I thought you were afraid of movies like these?”
She shrugged, turning her face away from me. “I haven’t seen a horror movie in ages.”
“Desmond instructed me to keep you away from horror movies.”
Victoria glared at me. “I’m not a little girl, Potter. So stop treating me like one before your balls finds its way back up into your stomach.” She then proceeded to push past me and towards the ticket booth.
“One for Insidious please.” I heard her say.
I walked towards her and leaned down beside her head before slapping some bills on the counter. “Make that two, please.”
Number one rule of a gentlemen: Always pay for your date.
I was told by Dominique that Layla wanted to spend a night out together. Considering everything that was going on with Desmond and Sylvia, I understood why she would want a break from reality. So for the pure heck of it, I allowed Dominique to dress me.
Yes, I know. It was a ginormous mistake from the start; allowing Dominique Weasley to dress me for a ‘night out’. For all I knew, she could’ve slapped a miniskirt on my legs and an incredibly tight shirt around my boobs and proceeded to call it a day. However, for the first time ever, she chose a plain, yet fashionable outfit. For the first time in ages, my white, laced camisole, that has been sitting in the darkness for years, can finally see the light.
I should have noticed that there was something wrong when Dominique made an excuse to stay in our dormitory for the night. Since when did Dom ever skip on a night out with the girls? It was her once chance to drink till every boy in the room looked more than half decent through her impaired vision. It was also the one time Layla and I drank like there was no tomorrow.
“I have plans with Tyler tonight.” Dominique told me while she handed me a pair of sandals. “Des asked me to spring him out of detention, and I promised Tyler that I wouldn’t leave him alone with Professor Trelawney for another night.”
It was an acceptable reason at the time. But as I descended down the staircase, expecting to meet Layla in the common room, the entire story suddenly seemed a bit. . . off to me. Since when did Dominique carry out favors for Desmond? Since when does Dominique go on some mission impossible to spring Tyler out of detention without any help from either Layla or me?
All my unanswered questions were immediately answered the moment I laid eyes on Potter in the common room. He seemed to be waiting with a nervous, fidgeting Albus.
It was a date. A double date. I had been set up, by my own girl friend, to go on a date with the boy I was forcibly in love wit AND supposedly dating.
How many girls in the world can say that this has ever happened to them?
Right, none. Because the heavens hate me and clearly want me to suffer.
I was supposed to be ignoring Potter.
It was working too. . . for a while. I had hoped that ignoring Potter would hopefully push my irritating infatuation aside and break this stupid spell Cupid had placed on me. I know that I was aiming for the impossible. When has anyone ever broke through the spell of a Cupid?
But I had to try something. I had to try and hate Potter with ever fiber in my being. If I didn’t, I think I would be pushed over the edge and falling head first into the endless pit that is insanity. I can’t handle it. This was my best bet in ensuring that my mind stays put and my feelings stay nailed to the ground.
I didn’t want to be all over the place, surrendering to my own mind. Especially when it just became my own worse enemy.
We had missed the early showing, leaving the last one for the night at nine PM. By the time we walked into the theater, it was eight thirty-six, leaving plenty of time to talk before the previews even start. We—Ginger, Albus, Potter and myself respectively—filed into one of the middle rows and found ourselves situated into silence once more.
We were all quiet. Ginger—I’m sure—simply had nothing to say, while Albus was nervous beyond belief. I could tell since he would not stop ruffling his hair. Soon enough, I’m almost positive that it would look as ridiculous as Potter’s messy head of hair.
“Hey Al, do you want to go get some popcorn and candy?” I heard Ginger ask in her soft voice.
“This is not the time to be hesitant, brother. Get up of your arse and go with her.” I heard Potter hiss from beside me.
This left both Potter and I sitting alone, basking—more like squirming—in a pool of our own uncomfortable silence.
“So. . .” Potter began.
I was actually beginning to enjoy this wall that had formed between us.
Unfortunately, Potter had to open his mouth and ruin it for me.
“Nice night. . . eh?”
I slowly turned my head towards him, surprised beyond belief that the biggest player in Hogwarts had resorted to the smallest of small talks. ‘Nice night’? Seriously?
If I wasn’t trying to resist the bloke so much, I would have probably burst out in laughter.
But I was.
So I didn’t.
“Seriously, Potter? That’s the best you can come up with? Nice night?” I retorted, rolling my eyes.
He glared a me through the darkness. “I don’t see you trying to make this date less awkward than it has to be.” He snapped in response. “What’s wrong with you? This is usually the time when you’d start spitting out random things that hold absolutely no relevance to our lives, or to our night.”
I turned away, resisting the urge to roll my eyes again. “Well, Potter, I’m here against my will. Maybe if you had simply asked me out on a fucking date yourself, then maybe I wouldn’t be trying to hard to stay away from you.”
Potter scoffed exasperatedly. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all week. Knowing you, I honestly don’t think that asking you on a date myself would have made this situation any better.”
“You don’t know me, Potter.” I snapped quickly; angrily. “You may know Desmond, Tyler, and Dominique and maybe even Layla, but you don’t fucking know me, alright?”
“Why the fuck do you always act like you’re so high and mighty, Vicky?” he demanded, fully turning his body towards me. I looked the other direction, too angry to face him at all. “You love feeling like no one can touch you, don’t you? You put yourself so high in the fucking sky so that no one will ever be able to hurt you—well you know what, Vicky? There’s no fucking man in the world that will ever have to patience or the ability to climb that high just to win that ice box in your chest that you call a heart. In the end, you’ll just be alone for the rest of your sad, fucking life, and you only have yourself to blame for it.”
I wasn’t sure why. Of all the fucked up things Potter ever said, I had let this get to me.
I abruptly stood up, and walked out of the theater without ever looking back.
By the time I reached the exit, the skies were pouring rain. I sighed, knowing it would be ludicrous to run out into the rain, wandering around a place I was not familiar with. So I resorted to sitting on a small stump that was sticking out the side of the building.
I listened to the sound of the rain hitting the pavement, hoping that it would be enough to calm me down. For years, Potter and I had fought and argued over everything two people could possibly argue about and not once was he ever able to push my buttons this far. There were times when I wanted to squeeze his head until I popped between my fingers, and there were times when I wanted to take a swing at his – point is, I’m seething.
No matter how much I hate to admit it, Potter was right. He was fucking right, and it was driving me over the fucking edge.
“Vic?” Albus’ voice broke through my thoughts. “Hey,” I looked up at the same moment he awkwardly stuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His eyes scanned the pouring rain before they made their way back to me. “I saw you rush out, are you alright?”
I nodded. “Fine.” I answered simply. “Just fucking perfect.”
“I take it you’re finding my brother to be a handful.” He said, planting himself on the space beside me. “But of course, who doesn’t already know that, eh?” Albus let out a short chuckle and slowly shuffled his feet against the damp pavement.
I’ve known Albus Potter for years. And after years of knowing the youngest male Potter, it was not until now that I realized how ridiculously cute and awkward he was. As I watched him stare at anything but my face, I couldn’t help but smile. So the baby boy Potter was uncomfortable with eye-contact.
How fucking cute.
“Where’s Ginger?” I asked, trying to ease his discomfort. “It’s not really a good move to leave your date for another girl.”
He chuckled softly again. “She’ll be fine. She went back into the theater. Hopefully James won’t pull a dick move and start feeding her embarrassing stories about my. . . darker days.” His eyes narrowed at the thought of his brother wrecking the potential chance he had with his dream girl. For a moment, I expected him to jump back on his feet and save Ginger from the hands of the other Potter boy, but surprisingly, he shook his head and disregarded the matter. “Anyway, what’s got your knickers in a bunch tonight?” he asked. “What has my dear brother done now?”
I laughed bitterly. “He’s just being a dick. You know him, always so high and mighty.”
“That’s James, for you.” Albus said, rolling his eyes. “But you already know this. Why does it seem like it’s coming to you as a shock?”
“I knew Potter was a dick the moment I met him. He just. . . somehow knows me more than I expected.”
Albus nods, understanding. “You know Vic, this may surprise you—actually, this may surprise anyone who knows my brother—but James. . . James,” He shook his head with and let out a bitter laugh; as if he was slightly dipping into the large bowl filled with his past. I was suddenly curious; wondering what that small shake of the head could have meant. “No matter how stupid he may be, he’s very perceptive. Incredibly perceptive, in fact. And you two have known each other for years.”
“It’s different, Al. We’ve hated each other for years.”
“And now you two are together.” He retorts. “You can’t expect to be able to continue hiding behind this wall of yours, especially from James. It’s only natural that he eventually see’s the real you.”
Ugh. The second Potter boy to be right. What the fuck is with these Potters and being right today?
Oh hey. Looks like my pride actually allows Albus Potter to be right.
“Always am.” A very Potter like smile spread across his lips. “Do me a favor, yeah Vic? Go easy on my brother. I know how stubborn and pig-headed he may be, but there’s more to him once you get past his asshole façade.”
“I suppose.” I wasn’t sure of what else to say. Albus was right, but I sure as hell didn’t want him to be right. I wanted to stay in my own world, away from James fucking Potter. I wasn’t dating the bloke. I didn’t even fancy him in the first place. I just happened to be head over heels in love with him, and it wasn’t even my fault to begin with. Potter didn’t have to know me—he shouldn’t know me. None of this was real. None of it.
Of course, all Al was able to see was the façade of our own that was coincidentally established because of his misinterpretations.
“So shall we go back?” He asked.
I knew Al was eager to see Ginger again. He was jittery and his eyes constantly turned towards the entrance of the theater. How could I possible say no to a boy as cute as Al Potter?
I nodded, forcing a small smile on my face. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from Ginger any longer.”
Al playfully ruffled my hair as I stood up on my feet. In response, I playfully shoved him away from me.
We walked back into the theater with Al’s arm around my shoulders in a friendly manner.
I always knew Albus Potter was my favorite Potter.
Next to his. . . ridiculouslyhandsomebrotherwhoijustsohappentobeinlovewith.
Fuck my life.
Ginger returned before her date.
Victoria still didn’t come back.
I’m guessing that Albus went after her.
At the risk of sounding like a bloody poof—it should’ve been me going after her. Not that I was suddenly planning on jumping right out of my seat to search for her. But she was my date, and as far as he knew, my girlfriend.
So why the fuck am I just sitting here, one seat away from Ginger, Albus’ date?
Because I’m a git, that’s fucking why.
Why did I have to go and open my big fat mouth?
WHY, MERLIN, WHY?!
Victoria returned with Albus.
She looked like she was in a better mood, but I was still a bit scared of saying a word. If I didn’t know any better, it’d seem like she and my brother pulled over for a quickie in a random lavatory, which would explain why she was put in a better mood. I mean, honestly—what man in his right mind could possibly resist a long-legged blonde like her?
Oh right. My brother can.
Because he’s in love with a Ginger.
But I can’t be too sure. . .
“Hey Ginger, pass the popcorn?” Victoria spoke up, breaking the silence between the four of us. She leaned forward to look at her, giving me a nice view of her exposed neck. . .
Control yourself, James.
Ginger handed the bucket of popcorn to Albus, who proceeded to hand it to Victoria.
“Thanks Al,” She said, smiling at him.
Albus smiled back.
What the fuck?
What was going on between my baby brother and my girl?
She’s not your girl.
The hell she’s not my girl.
Don’t say it James.
Don’t say it.
“You look like you’re in a better mood.” I found myself saying before I could even think.
As she threw popcorn into her mouth one by one, she kept her eyes on the screen flashing previews. “I am—a little bit.” She answered without even looking at me.
“Did you and Al manage to fit in a quickie before the movie started?”
I felt a sharp jab on my left side. I guess Al heard me.
Victoria, however, didn’t even flinch.
“No.” Her voice was cold and hard. Almost controlled, as if she was about to burst any minute.
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed.
“Hush, Potter. The movie is starting.”
“Albus, I swear to Merlin if you don’t take your bloody hands off of me right now, I will beat you till you’re crying home to mum.”
“But. . . but. . . it’s so scary!”
“You’re on a date. Man up! Stop being such a Pansy.”
“Leave him alone, Potter. Not everyone is like you—a cold hearted prat.”
“He needs to learn that there are no more monsters under his bed!”
“Maybe he would’ve learned that years ago if you hadn’t messed around with him so much!”
“Yes, Ginge?” Like my special nickname for her? I think it suits her the best.
Better than Ginger.
“Can we please just watch the movie?”
“She’s right Potter, now shut up and watch the movie.”
“I will once Albus stops hanging onto me like a bloody chimp!”
“Al, stop hanging onto Potter so that he can shut his gigantic mouth.”
“SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The entire theater chorused.
“YOU SHUSH!” Albus retorted loudly.
“Al! You’re going to get us kicked out!”
“Sorry Ginger. . .”
“Al, get the fuck off me.”
“Victoria, switch seats with me.”
“Ginger, switch seats with Albus.”
“No! She can’t switch seats with me. I don’t want to sit on the edge! YOU CAN’T MAKE HER!”
“I’m guessing that’s a no from me.”
Is today say no to James Potter day?
What the fuck.
“Victoriaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” I whined. “Please switch seats with me so that Albus can stop hugging me. I feel a little bit uncomfortable.”
I could practically hear her rolling her eyes from beside me. “You know what, fine. If it will get you to bloody shut up, then fine.”
If we switch seats, then Albus will hug Victoria.
Albus will cling onto Victoria.
As far as he’s concerned.
She sat up in her seat, and was about to move when I put my hands up to stop her.
“Never mind! Sit down.”
Through the darkness, I could see a look of confusion in her eyes.
“No sit.” I commanded. “I’ll just have to deal with my idiot brother for the next hour and ten minutes.”
“Potter, I’ll switch with you. Now shut the fuck up and move.”
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She gives me another look of confusion. “What the bloody hell are you on about?”
“Nothing.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Just sit down and watch the movie.”
“Are you going to shut up now?”
“Yes.” I muttered, feeling my pride dying with every passing second.
“WOULD YOU TWO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” Whoa, Ginge is angry.
Suddenly, a light—the kind of light that wasn’t coming from the screen—appeared. “Excuse me.” It was a tall lanky man with a flashlight in his hand. “Would you four please leave the theater? You’re all disrupting the movie, and I’ve had several complaints the last ten minutes.”
“We’ll be quiet.” Victoria snapped as she turned to look at him.
The man looked a bit taken aback by her attitude. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’ve been asked to escort the four of you out.”
“And I’ve been asked to shit bricks, but we’re not able to do whatever we want, now can we?” I couldn’t suppress my laughter. “Now if you don’t mind, would you please lower your flashlight? Or turn it off for that matter. I think at this point, you’re disrupting the movie with that ridiculously bright light in your hand.”
Slowly and hesitantly, the man lowered the flashlight and proceeded to turn it off. The theater was now dark once more, disregarding the light coming from the projector. “Would you four please step out?”
“We paid for this movie.” Victoria snapped again. “Now would you please leave us alone?”
I could feel her glare all the way over here. I watched as he cowered under it, even though she was sitting and he was standing over her.
Eventually, he retreated back down the stairs and out of the theater.
Victoria turned her attention back towards the screen, revealing her scowl to both Albus and I. She crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down against the cushions of her seat. “Bloody son of a wanker.” She muttered under her breath.
For the next few minutes, I stared at her—despite he darkness—completely amazed; completely fascinated. I watched as the light flickered across her pale skin, exposing several different faces in one. She was sarcastic and bitter—the only side of herself that she has ever shown me in the last seven years that I’ve known her—and yet, I could see a side of her that was. . . tame and calm. She looked as sweet as a bloody angel, yet a fire burned within her—a fire that could only match those of hell. It was the kind of fire that was absent in most girls. The kind of fire that they suppressed, instead of expressed, the kind that was ridiculously hot and amazing to watch at the same time. With flames of different colors, different emotions and personalities. It was the kind of fire that I was undeniably attracted to.
“So how was your date?” Dominique asked the moment I walked through the doorway of our dormitory. She was lounging on her messy bed with a magazine resting on her chest.
I scowled and dropped my bag at the foot of my bed before I pulled off my shoes. I ran over to Dom’s bed and plopped myself down beside her, my blonde hair splaying all over the place. “It was a date with your cousin, what do you expect?”
“Was it that bad?” she asked, staring at the canopy.
I shrugged. “We almost got kicked out of the theater, but I yelled at the bloody usher.”
Dom giggled softly. “That’s my girl.”
“Ginger’s nice.” I told her, reminiscing. “After the movie we went for some ice cream for Albus’ sake. Potter and Al went to buy it, and we waited by a park somewhere. She really likes Albus, which is ridiculously cute.”
She smiled in response. “Ginger Star, right? That boy has been in love with her since we were little children. It’s good that they’re finally together.”
“It was only a date.” I replied. “But hopefully he’ll eventually find the courage to ask her soon.”
“Hopefully.” She replied in a dreamy voice.
“How was your day with Tyler? Or was that a complete lie as well?” I asked, turning my head to look at her.
She shrugged. “It was at first. After his detention he came to find me and we—well we sort of spent the day together.” She answered. “It was nice, Vic.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. . .”
Before I could question her further, the door opened with a loud bang as it collided with a dresser positioned behind it. Both Dominique and I sprung up from our previous position and found Layla advancing towards us. She looked angry—seething, in fact. She was the angriest I’ve ever seen her.
“Layla, what happened?” Dom asked, her voice a bit panicked.
“What happened?” she demanded. “I’ll tell you what fucking happened. Desmond asked Sylvia out on a date, that’s what fucking happened.”
Oh Merlin, this can’t end well.
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