18: Petty

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I stare at him. From the corner of my eyes, I see Charlie leaning into my line of focus, with an expression of slight contentment and threat disguised as a smile. I purse my lips together and picked up a sheet of paper to hide his face from my view.

"No." I glare at Gaz; I don't want this friendship. Why should I give them a second chance? They have done nothing to deserve it.

"And this is why you can't keep friends," Charlie mumbles.

"Excuse me?" I turn to him offended.

"Starting over does not equivocate to forgiveness— saying yes or agreeing is not you forgiving them."

"It is to me—"

"Just say yes."

"No."

"Y/n you're being a bitch say yes!" I purse my lips; he used my real name...

"Fine!"

"Alright, let's try to move forward on the good foot forward," Price finally states after a few moments of silence. "Ghost try to be polite." It was more of an order than a suggestion Ghost grunts and folds his arms but gives a slight nod.

Price turns back to the map and back to the missions. We're working with a contractor group Kortac, and all of the task force groaned and looked upset. Soap and Gaz turn to each other a sneer on their face.

"You guys got opts?" I ask.

"Opts?"

"Enemies," Charlie informs them.

"Yeah... We aren't— really friendly with them." Soap mumbles.

"A few of our enemies are in Kortac." Gaz bluntly states.

"Word." They look at me a little confused.

"We're not working with those people; we're working with Colonel König and Horangi." Price states, "We're picking them up in England and making our way to eastern Europe where Makarov is hiding."

"Why are we working with them?"

"Russia wanted their people to keep an eye on us." I nod along, "they don't want us to point fingers at them."

We part ways packing our things and our requirements. I packed my things quickly. I look at my little Alpaca stuffed animal and quickly place it at the very top of my stuff. No one needs to know I have it... besides Charlie. It's old and raggedy, and I needed to get a new one, the soft fur was enticing, and I'm so tempted to buy a real alpaca so I wouldn't have to buy new alpaca stuffed animals all the time. I like soft things. Just feeling something that soft helps me refocus my thoughts.

"Hey," I look over to see Charlie holding my gun.

"Don't touch my gun!" I sneer ripping it from his hands.

"Bro, it's a damn gun—"

"It's mine! Don't touch my things," I growl at him. Sharing is not caring! My things are mine! Charlie's things are also mine; I'll share his things. I do not share my things... not willingly.

"You're not gonna die if I touch it," I pout and glare at him. "It's that or Ghost touch it."

"...Fine." Charlie watches on before pulling out a small notebook and writing a few things down.

"Are you prepared to play babysitter?" Charlie asks as he puts away his little notepad.

"Why?" I look up.

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