Remember

~Chapter 17~

Today I woke up with a pit in my stomach. I was extremely embarrassed with what had happened the day before.

I got out of bed and freshened up in the bathroom, before walking to the living room.

Once I entered the living room, I felt a strong gaze on me. I'm not the type of person who wakes up at six o'clock in the morning so instead I woke up at one thirty, when everyone seems to be wide awake.

It also didn't help that I slept very late. Three thirty to be exact. I suddenly hear voices and quickly change my initial plan and walk across the living room to get to the kitchen.

There's a wall separating the kitchen from the living room, so just a couple more steps and I'll be out of their sights in no time. Scott and Jake were sitting on the couch while playing a basketball game.

They stopped playing and stared at me as I made my way to the kitchen. I got some bread and put it into the toaster. I then opened the refrigerator and got out a container of cream cheese.

"Hey," a voice startled me. I turned around to see that it was Scott. He looked good. He was wearing a well fitted grey t-shirt and a pair of kinda tight dark blue jeans.

"Hi," I said back.

"Are you okay? You know, with everything that happened yesterday."

"Uh yeah actually, i'm surprisingly fine," I responded, referring to the whole Gavin breakup.

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Yeah what did you think? You thought that I'd be sobbing and eating a large bucket of ice cream while watching the Notebook?" I laughed.

"Yeah actually, that's exactly what I thought you'd be doing." He laughed along with me.

"Well I'm not."

"I can see that," He chuckles.

The bread pops up and I quickly place them on a plate. I then spread the cream cheese onto the bread with a small spoon.

He stares at me while I do this. I can't help but get nervous. I'm too nervous with him standing there, so my hands begin to shake.

I stop spreading cream cheese and put the spoon in the sink so he won't notice how nervous I'm getting.

"Can we talk? About what happened with us before, you know," he put special emphasis on the us.

"I don't know..," I tilt my head slightly.

"Why not? I mean, I don't want to push you to talk to me but I really want us to speak about this," he continues.

"Talk about what? I thought we established that I wasn't going to give into you 'over and over and over again?' Oh! Not to mention that this wasn't suppose to happen." I ask quoting him on his previous words from the night before. I use hand gestures between both of us when I quotes his words.

"I didn't mean that," he declares.

"I know you didn't. You had just finished telling me how much you've been in love with me for almost all of your teen years." I laugh, a real laugh, and he does the same.

"I just got scared that you were going to say what I said to you, to me," he stated.

"Very mature," I said sarcastically.