So, What Pick-Up Line Actually Works On You?

Chapter Thirty-Three - You're Buying Me A Pony?

I'm sorry to say this, but this story is actually nearing it's end. There will be one more chapter after this, and an epilogue, at least. However, I am thinking of a sequel. If you'd like a sequel, let me know!

And don't hate me. :D

Chapter Thirty-Three – You’re Buying Me A Pony?

They say that the truth hurts for a little while, but that lies hurt forever. The same can be said for things that you don’t know, while everyone else does. It isn’t the secrets that hurt you, but the fact that they were kept from you. I no longer wanted to know the truth like I had done a few days ago. It was a complicated mess, a mess that could tear people apart.

All I could say was that Rhys had completed the first two objectives on his list. He might not know it, but he has. His list was slightly corny, and a little bit clichéd. You couldn’t really tell if he was being genuine or just writing it for the heck of it, maybe to win some people over.  Rhys could be deeper than he looks, and thoughtful. Or it could be an act so he can continue to spin his lies.

If you had asked me a few days ago, I would have told you that he was thoughtful, and that he was deep. What had happened had twisted my thoughts, making everything he had done seem like it had a double meaning, that he was scheming silently behind all the sweet words and gentle touches. The naïve part of me screamed to the cynical part of me, yelling that he was genuine. The cynical part of me laughed coldly, ignoring the naïve part. It was like a little bitch fight going on in my mind with the two opposites colliding head on.

Tyson was watching me carefully, looking for a betraying twitch or gulp. His leg was bouncing up and down at an alarming rate. His leg always started jiggling when he was stressed or nervous. When both legs jiggled, Tyson was going to vomit in around three seconds.

Looking at the page, I remembered that Rhys had a vendetta against blue ink and only wrote in black. He said blue was too girly for a manly man like him. I swallowed back an involuntary smile. Smiling and him were no longer connected. They never would be if I had my way.

I scanned the sheet again, telling myself that no matter what it said I wouldn’t cry.

1.      Become friends with Annie.

2.      Convince Annie to live.

3.      Make Annie love me the way I love her.

Instead of crying, I started laughing uncontrollably. This was bullshit. Surely he could come up with something better?

“This is a pile of horse poo poo.” I told Tyson, meeting his gaze evenly.

Tyson’s eyebrows rose, “Maybe. But it is quite sweet and endearing and makes you want to cuddle Rhys.” I shook my head, it was just pathetic. How did last night equal to making me love him? “Look, I’m going to get myself some liquid with caffeine in. I’ll be right back.” Tyson sighed, looking at me as if I was as dense as a rock. I watched as he left, looking as if he’d aged ten years in around ten minutes.

Okay, so maybe Rhys’s list had made him look slightly more innocent. And made me look like a rash person who doesn’t think at the best of times. But he still lied to me, and at the end of the day, that’s what matters.

***

The three days after that passed in a blur. During the day I was carted around to specialists, psychologists and dieticians. Wherever I went, Tyson and my IV followed. There were meetings, blood tests, naps and hours spent reading cheap magazines. During the night I lay in bed, listening to the breathing of Stacy and Jean, and occasionally Tyson. The room was too warm for me at night, and my thoughts consumed me when I wasn’t in a fitful doze.