Look at the way he's stacking up the wood, like he's some type of macho man. Obviously trying to impress me. He's completely clueless that he's overrated in my mind. And his jeans are way too tight. You know, he's not as hot as he thinks he is with sweat dripping down his forehead. And his neck. And his chest. And- Stop it.

... News flash, Owen. We're history.


7. Seven

"The doctor says there's only a sixty-seven percent chance for her to live." 

"So how long does she have?" I whisper, stirring my milkshake with my fat red straw. 

I wait patiently for a response, sipping while he hesitates. "Maybe three years." he sips too. "She can recover, it won't exactly be a miracle. But if the treatments work well and she has a good response to them, she can make it." 

We're sitting in the bakery, settled in our favorite booth. As usual, I have my strawberry shake and he has his chocolate. We're playing footsies underneath the table, just a habit I guess. I don't wanna talk about this any longer, and I know he hates the subject too. So I make it my business change it. 

"It looks different in here." I say, observing the place. 

"You haven't been here?" he asks, frowning. 

"Nope... Not since we.."

"Yeah." The awkward moment suffocates us, but Martha interrupts it. 

Martha is the fifty something year old woman who served us each and every time we came to the bakery. We haven't seen her in the place until now, and earlier when someone else came to take our order I automatically assumed that she had quit. A smile is slapped on my face when she comes into sight. "Oh dear!" she cheers, wacking her notepad on our table. "It's so good to see you two together again!" she seems relieved, thrilled. 

"We're not-" Owen begins. 

"Yeah we're not-"

"A couple." he finishes. 

"We're still broken up." I kinda stutter, and I can't stop my thumb from ramming between my teeth. Owen laughs at me, and tugs at my wrist as a gesture to get me to stop biting. 

"Just friends." he adds with a grin at me. 

"Well, since you're just friends... how about a mini cheesecake on the house?" she smiles, her rosy cheeks lifting to show her wrinkles. 

"Thank you Martha, but I think we're okay." 

"Um, hello? Free cheesecake!" Owen contemplates and of course I frown. "Bring it on." My eyes roll.

"Thanks Martha." I repeat, calling after her. "So..."

"So..." he stares at me, his fingers are fumbling with the straw of his shake. "How's Hank?" 

"Oh God." I groan, rolling my head to the side. He just smirks at my glare. 

After Owen broke up with me, I lost my virginity to a guy named Hank that I met at Starbucks. I found out later that he goes to my school. I was so heart broken that we went at it like rabbits for almost a month. And then when I told him that I didn't have feelings for him, he told all his jock friends about our wild sex craze. After that, whenever I passed them, they'd make perverted comments and whistle. I think he was in love with me, and I think I broke his heart. But he certainly helped me get over the depression. I laugh as Owen waits for his answer. 

"I haven't talked to him in months. He hates me." I tell him, and I cover my mouth to hide my snort laugh. 

"You two were close." His lips pinch together and he smiles big. I nod sarcastically. "Was he any good?" He teases, and it catches me off guard. It's times like this when I think he wants to kill me of embarrassment.

"I mean... I don't really know. I don't really have anything to compare him to." I try to force out another giggle to make it seem more like a joke. But my cheeks turn pink instead. 

"You haven't... After him?" There goes some more awkward. I shake my head and curse at him mentally. "Hmm." he nods, leaning back in his seat and giving me a too-friendly snicker. And then his face becomes serious. "Listen," he begins, and I see that his jaw line is harder and his brows are furrowed. Not angrily, but concerned. "I was kind of an asshole for pressuring you back then. I don't know, I was so caught up. I was confident that I wasn't gonna lose you." He grins a sad grin. "But then I did." 

"Yeah, that wasn't too smart." I sip a chunk of strawberry innocently. I move slow because I don't know whats supposed to happen next.

"I was pathetic." Owen admits, and I make it clear to nod in agreement. But then he seems bashful.

"Stop." I giggle, kicking him lightly under the table. 

"Stop what?" he puts his hands up in surrender.

"Being awkward." 

He just sighs and stares at me for a few long seconds. "Let's get outta here." He gestures to the door. 

"What about your cheesecake?" I ask, gathering my purse. 

"I'll live without it." He slaps a ten dollar bill on the table, and I don't object when he plants his hand on the small of my back. But I do shiver when his warm hand skims my exposed skin. His hand moves over and squeezes my hip. I use my right arm to cross over his and do the same to him. And we strut the sidewalk. Just like that.

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