抖阴社区

                                    

"Hmm," he hummed in response while we tossed the popsicle sticks into the nearest trash. 

"How many people from school do you think have seen us while we take this stroll around town?" I asked. 

"Probably a few, not too many though, I doubt word would spread," he said while looking around. 

"Right, well then, if anyone asks, this was a date," I shrugged. 

"A date? Okay, I can work with that," he smirked. 

"The arrogance in you really astonishes me at times," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. 

"I have to get home," I said, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. 

"Why? Got a guest waiting at home for you?" he asked, walking with me. 

"No, but my parents leave for New York tonight. Some work stuff, I don't really know. They'll be back in ten days. I'm supposed to be home by 3 o'clock," I explained. 

"It's 2:15 though," he said in confusion. 

"Is Ethan Archer asking me to spend more time with him?" I teased. 

"I don't hate you when you're not being annoying, Olivia," he said. 

I gasped, "You called me Olivia," I sang. 

"I feel like you like it better that way," he said, eyeing me with a scrutinizing gaze. 

"Maybe I do," I shrugged. 

"Maybe you do," he nodded. He says my name differently, or maybe it just sounds different coming from him, but I did prefer when he called me Olivia. Not Oliver Twist, or Oliver, or Olive, or even Liv. Just Olivia. 

"Now, the real question is, will you be a gentleman and walk me home, which also increases the chances of people seeing us and assuming we're dating which makes it more believable, or will you go your way if you've got somewhere to be and I go mine?" I asked. 

"I'll walk you, it makes it more believable," he shrugged, walking with me. 

"That's the reason, you sure?" I taunted. 

He elbowed me as we walked, me laughing and him shaking his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. He's not that bad. I hate to admit it, but he's genuinely not that bad. I still hate him, I definitely still do, just maybe not as much as I did. He still shouldn't have pushed me off the swing and broken my ankle, or splattered paint on my drawings, or filled up my locker with water balloons, or kissed... 

Whatever he shouldn't have done anything like that, to begin with, but knowing him a little better and spending the day with him, the idea of him doing it all just because he was a kid and immature, seems a lot more believable than it did. 

Keep in mind, the reason I told myself was because the Devil sent him. 

Hence, the nickname. Devil's bellboy. He's still the Devil's bellboy, he's still very annoying, just a little lesser than he was at the beginning. 

He walked me home, we talked shit about people and things the whole time, and then we arrived. "Well, that's me. Thank you for the walk and the ridiculously cliche date," I smiled, pulling out my keys. 

"You're most welcome," he smirked, walking backward out of my driveway, still facing me. 

"Bye," I said, turning around to head inside. 

"Olive!" 

I rolled my eyes. 

We're still at Olive. 

I turned to face him, raising a brow. 

"I'll pick you up tomorrow. For school at 7:30 don't be late," he winked before walking over to his house. 

I scoffed to myself before letting myself into the sight of my parents packing. "You guys are already leaving?" I asked in confusion. 

"Your mother wants to shop, we're meeting your aunt in New York," my dad said, grunting as he picked up the suitcase and set it on its wheels. 

"So, we've got to buy her gifts," my mom grinned. 

I walked over to my dad, "I hope your credit card is loaded then," I mumbled. We looked at each other and I bit back a laugh while he groaned. 

"Ready to go, Maya?" he asked. We said goodbye and then they left. I locked the front door before going upstairs. I grabbed my pajamas because I have nowhere to go after this and headed for my shower. Once I came out of the shower and stood at my vanity and towel-dried my hair, I heard clattering. 

And, my God... I wish I looked around earlier because I was going to fucking scream. 

"Don't, don't, don't," he whispered in a panic, walking over to me and stood mere inches away, his eyes scanning my face. "Don't freak out," he whispered. 

"What the hell are you doing here, Ethan?" I asked, pushing him back. 

"Annabelle showed up at my goddamn house and my mother has no idea what happened, so-" He stopped talking and we both turned to his room, where Annabelle was entering. "So she let her in, are you wearing anything under that robe?" he frowned in confusion. 

"Ethan," I said slowly and warningly. 

"Just asking," he shrugged. 

"Why the hell would you ask that?" I huffed, walking over to my window, hoping to close the blinds before she noticed but my luck? No. Was I rude enough to snap them shut in her face? Also no. But was I rude enough to act like I didn't see her? Yes. 

I turned to Ethan, "Don't you think your ex is going a little... overboard?" I asked. 

"Don't you think I'm seeing that?" he huffed, glancing at her. "She's looking." 

"What are you gonna do?" 

"Can we do something to make her want to leave, right?" he asked. 

"Like what?" I questioned. 

"Make her think we're about to have sex," he shrugged. 

"Haha," I rolled my eyes. 

"I'm not kidding," he scoffed, "Oh, she's looking," he said before throwing his shirt off. 

"I don't think this is for her to see," I narrowed my eyes at him. 

"No, it's just to get on your nerves," he winked, tossing it on my bed. 

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 6

Honestly, I wouldn't be annoyed if an Ethan-looking guy took his shirt off in my room. I'd probably get in trouble tho...


It All Started With A LieWhere stories live. Discover now