She Kidnapped Me! |ON HOLD|

Chapter 16 - "Made For Each Other,"

Anders Larzelere's PoV: 

Chapter 16 - "Made For Each Other,"

I hate this tension.

This awkwardness.

And I hate myself for hating it.

Alarice, she-who-has-an-ever-present-grin-on-her-face, has not smiled at me.

At all.

It's been two frigging days.

That also reminds me of the most delicious home-cooked lasagna I've ever had.

I'd come to accept that this girl is awesome, but now I'm starting to think that she excels at everything.

Just remembering that dinner she'd made, before I'd opened my big mouth and ruined the evening by saying something, has my mouth watering. And speaking of the even more mouthwatering chef—

"Hey, Anders." I look up from my drawing to see the, ahem, chef herself leaning against the door frame wearing the same shade of jeans and the exact similar copy of my green shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. No surprise there, I've gotten used to this twin-dressing strategy she's been keeping up, no matter how weird it is, "Kade was thinking that we should all play soccer. You know, since you're a running back in the team."

"Oh."

"Yeah,"

"Wait," I close my notepad and stand up, confused, "How did you know that I was in the team?"

I certainly don't recall telling her.

"Um," Her cheeks stain a light shade of pink as she averts her gaze, fidgeting uncharacteristically, "Let's just say I did a little background check on you before kidnapping you," She looks down, her long curls falling onto her face, hiding it as she continues to fidget, pulling at the hem of her shirt nervously.

Oh. 'Little' must be a subjective term in her vocabulary.

I should've known.

And the mention of the "kidnapping" is a jarring reminder of why I should stop beating myself up over something I don't know for sure I did, or trying to make things alright when I don't know the root of the problem.

"Okay." I accept, throwing my pencil over the book, "Where to?"

She looks up at me finally, hope shining evidently in her expressive honey eyes as a small smile cracks her face. "Follow me."

~ * ~

"Whoa."

We're in backyard of the mansion, and it's suffice to say there's ample space for playing a game. The surprising thing is, when she'd said soccer, I'd expected a handful of people throwing around a ball. Not an actual group big enough to have two real teams.

Nice.

"Um, Koy and her boyfriend are over there." Alarice whispers as she leans close to me, her breath a cool gust on my neck that sends a shiver straight to the south.

Ahem, down boy.

"Oh," I mumble in daze, looking vaguely at the direction she's pointing to find a petite Dominican looking girl with reddish-brown, russet hair and a tall blond guy, who looks like he spends every waking minute in a gym. Both of them are dressed in shorts and tee shirts, completing the look with Nikes.

Hm, this doesn't seem like a sudden plan.

They're standing close to each other, lost in conversation, which now looks to me like they're plotting for the soccer match.