32: How's your lunch date?
I woke up in the morning, my face still itchy from the crap I'd worn the night before. I had barely slept, tossing and turning as I checked my phone, wondering when he was going to contact me.
What was his fucking problem?
I was beyond annoyed now, and as I dressed I decided I was not having a man dictate who I could and couldn't be friends with- not now; not ever.
I ate breakfast, before arranging to meet Greg at starbucks to go over our work before we handed it in. I was still tired, and needed a caffeine hit urgently.
My eclectic mix of music blared out in my ears as I rode the bus to town, my eyes taking in the scenery on the way in. I couldn't help but think of Drake, and how he had caused the argument over nothing, then refused to speak to me. I thought he was behaving like a dick, and I had every intention of telling him about it when I next spoke to him.
If I did. The longer he left it, the angrier and colder I was getting. I was pissed off that I felt guilty for meeting Greg today, but what bothered me more was the way I'd panicked Drake would lose his shit if he saw us together last night.
That's not healthy, at all.
As I walked into Starbucks, I saw Greg staring at the book in front of him, a frown on his face as his lips moved. He then made notes, before returning his gaze back to the book. He was amazing at understand the hidden meanings behind the words, and I was so grateful he could explain it in terms I understood.
"Greg!" I called, as he looked up, blinking rapidly as he left the fictional world he had been in. He wore thick rimmed glasses today, which meant he was having one of his headaches. "Another coffee?" I indicated the one before him as he shook his head.
I turned back and ordered mine, before deciding to get a blueberry muffin too. I was starving and pissed off. Sugar always helps.
I carried it over, before pouring my many sachets in that Greg had already got for me.
"Headache?" I grimaced, nodding at the glasses.
"Yeah. I didn't sleep well," he confessed, taking them off to rub his eyes. I watched him as he yawned, pushing his glasses back on as he grinned at me. "You ok? What's he said?"
I stirred my coffee, not sure how to say I'd not heard from him. I knew Greg would be pissed off for me, and I didn't need either of them hating one another more than they currently did.
"Victoria?" he pressed, as he cocked an eyebrow up at me expectantly.
"What do you mean nothing?" he scoffed, as he watched me cut into my muffin with interest. "Eat that with your fingers! Bloody British," he teased, as I flipped him the bird.
"I haven't heard from him," I shrugged, as I noticed his eyes widen.
I shoved the muffin in my mouth, groaning as the flavours exploded on my tongue.
"Fucking Starbucks. They make the best muffins ever."
"Yeah, let's talk about that," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he checked his phone again, a smile playing at his lips.
"Ashleigh?" I asked lightly, as he nodded.
"Yeah, got myself a date tomorrow night," he winked, as I felt that stab of jealously again. This must've been what he felt like when I got with Drake. It was entirely normal, because we were so close.
I felt better then, as we began to study. Two hours later and my head was hurting, as I stretched.
"Can we have a break? I'm dying," I complained, as he frowned.
"We are nearing the end now, let's just crack on and then we can relax all day if you want."
"Well we have to type it all up," I added, as he nodded.
"That's the easy bit babe. All we need to do is finish the conclusion."
He shuffled through his notes, as he stared at the words.
"So what do you think? How are you going to end it?"
He studied me as I shifted uncomfortably.
"I think I'm just going with the safe option. Reiterate the points and references-"
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Right. But lets hear your fire, your passion. Why are you right? Take-"
He stopped talking, his eyes focusing on something behind me. I turned to see Drake in his running clothes, sunglasses on as he ordered a coffee. I felt anger rise within me.
So he wasn't dead then. He just didn't want to speak to me.
"Fuck," muttered Greg as he began to pack his books away.
"What are you doing?" I asked curiously, turning back to Greg.
"Going. I'm not being in the way-"
"Fuck that, Gregory. Sit down," I said firmly, before turning to my paper.
"He's seen us," he murmured, as I shook my shoulders.
"I'd rather not," Greg snorted as I rolled my eyes at him. I continued to write, my own pressing down hard on the paper as I waited to feel his presence.
I couldn't help but look up, just in time to see him leaving, coffee in hand.
"Ignorant bastard!" I seethed, suddenly marching out after him. I was so angry I wasn't even sure what I was going to say only that I had to say something.
He stopped, before turning around to face me slowly.
"I got home fine last night, thanks for asking."
"I'm glad to hear it. How's your lunch date going?"
"Is your phone broke?" I snapped, ignoring his previous comment.
"No, why?" he looked bored now, and I wanted to punch him.
"What the fuck? Why haven't you called me to make sure I got home alright? Or anything?"
"I knew you'd get home alright. Your best friend would always make sure of that."
"You're so fucking immature."
"Yeah well. I've got to go."
He turned and walked to his car as my mouth fell open, watching as he pulled away quickly, his tyres screeching on the road as he drove away.
Tears burned in my eyes as I watched him leave, before turning back and walking into the coffee shop. Greg was sitting waiting, our things packed away and ready to go.
"Look, I'll speak to him. He needs to know theres nothing going on," he said softly, as I shook my head.
"No. Fuck him."
"Again, no thanks."
I felt myself laugh then, as he suddenly grinned.
"That's better. Just let me speak to him, honestly. Man to man. He's behaving like he caught us fucking-"
"He is! Fucking overreacting."