I followed my mom into the kitchen, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that was unfurling in my stomach.  There were so many things that could go wrong during this dinner—so many things.  It was bad enough that Dannon was joining us, but for my mom to think that I had romantic feelings for him only made it all the worse.  What if she brought up my “crush” on him while I was eating?  What if—?

“You didn’t tell me he was beautiful, Bri,” my mom gushed as she reached for the plates in the cupboard.

 I scoffed softly, pulling the silverware drawer open a lot rougher than I meant to.  I wondered if she could tell that I was pissed that I was stuck in this situation.  Probably not.  “Don’t call a guy beautiful,” I snapped, grabbing a handful of forks before banging the drawer closed with my hip.  “And I didn’t tell you because he isn’t.”

My mom patted me on the shoulder, shooting me a wink before prancing to the kitchen table and setting the plates down. “Denial!” she sang, swaying her hips from side to side as she moved the plates into their correct places.  “You picked a keeper, hon.”

I huffed, circling around the table as I set a fork down in each spot.  I realized too late that grabbing a handful of them probably wasn’t the best of ideas.  “I didn’t pick him,” I grumbled, slamming a fork down onto the side of a plate.  “And I don’t like him, Mom.  We’re not even friends.”

My mom wasn’t convinced.  She grinned, trotting back to the cupboards, reaching up and grabbing four cups.  I let out an exasperated breath of air before moving back to the silverware drawer, the extra forks pinching my skin as I gripped them tightly in my hand.  Casting an irritable glance in my mom’s direction, I dumped the forks back into their place in the drawer before scooping out some spoons.

“Sure, sure,” she drawled, winking at me.

I mentally face-palmed.  Why did people have to be so difficult?

I blocked my mom out the best I could as we continued setting the table.  Instead, I tried to concentrate on other things.  But, sadly, the only other things making a sound in the house were my dad and Dannon talking in the living room and the TV blaring.  I couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but when I heard keywords like “tackle” and “touchdown” I assumed they were talking about football.

Men and their sports. 

“Dinner’s ready!” my mom called suddenly, ripping me away from my reverie.  I blinked, glancing at the table.  To my surprise the food was all set, looking brilliant in the middle of the table.  My dad was a superb cook.  Garrett and I used to be his taste-testers when we were younger, eating half the food before it could even be set on the table for the family to eat.  I smiled slightly at the memory.  Those were the days.

Dannon and my dad appeared, laughing their asses off about God-knows-what.  I cocked and eyebrow at them.  They seemed to be getting along . . . rather well.

“Wow,” Dannon murmured as his eyes landed on the food on the table.  “This looks delicious.”

I plopped into my self-proclaimed seat (it had been mine since I was out of a high-chair), and waited for my family—and I guess Dannon—to join me.  My dad clapped Dannon on the back before settling into the seat beside me.  I smiled in his direction.  He grinned back.

My mom grabbed Dannon lightly by the shoulders, steering him toward the seat across from mine.  I shot her a suspicious look.  Why couldn’t he have sat across from my dad?  They had much more to talk about than we did.  “So you can discreetly stare at him, hon,” she mouthed.

It took all I had not to let my head drop in my hands.  That was beyond embarrassing.

Dannon smiled as he flopped settled into the seat my mom selected for him, thanking her.  She smiled back, saying it was no problem at all, and sat down beside him.  I looked around at everyone, feeling awkward.  Could we eat now? 

As though my dad could read my mind, he said, “Dig in!”

All at once we were all grabbing food.  I noted how tentative Dannon was to grab the things he wanted.  It was as though he thought he was being rude by grabbing extra-large helpings on things.  But, little did he know, the more he grabbed, the more polite he was being.  My dad loved it when people at a ton of his food.

In the end, Dannon made me look like an absolute pig.  His plate wasn’t nearly as full as mine.

“So, Dannon,” my dad said, acquiring the tone that parents sometimes used when trying to show off their family, “how is it that a boy like you got the chance to speak to my boy-avoiding daughter?”

I shot him a pointed look, willing him not to mention the apple-incident.  Dannon’s eyes met mine, and I instantly knew that he understood.  He looked away from me, smiling lightly. “We got paired up for a project,” he lied smoothly, scooping up a small bit of potato and plopping it into his mouth. 

My dad made even better potato than Kentucky Fried Chicken—and they made pretty incredible chicken. 

“Ooh, what subject?” my mom inquired enthusiastically before biting into some chicken.  I stared at her.  Her interest sickened me. 

“In history,” I blurted before Dannon could.  I thought back to the history test he’d probably made me fail and scowled.  I stuffed some potato in my mouth, swallowing it irritably.  “I have to save my grade because someone made me fail.”

Dannon held his hands up innocently, the fork he was holding almost brushing through his hair.  “Hey, it’s not my fault if you failed,” he said with a grin, putting more emphasis than needed on the word “if”. 

“You were talking!”

Before Dannon could reply, my mom interjected.  “Wait—what did you fail, Brianne?”

Instead of answering right away I deliberately shoved a bunch of potato in my mouth and chewed it slowly.  Not that it really needed to be chewed.  I mean you pretty much could just suck it down your throat like you would with drinks. 

“Brianne?” my mom persisted. 

I swallowed with a sigh.  “Probably failed a test,” I muttered, glaring at Dannon from across the table.  “He wouldn’t shut up.”

I watched as my mom’s face scrunched up—a way of showing that she was thinking what I said over through her head.  And, slowly, as her face returned back to normal, I could sense she was putting the pieces together.

And then she started laughing.

Laughing.  I stared at her, wide-eyed with shock.  My mom was laughing?  I mean, seriously?  Your daughter tells you that she probably failed at test and you laugh at her? Don’t get me wrong, I would rather her laugh than yell any day, but this was strange.  I glanced at Dannon.  If this was because he was here, then my mom was in terrible need of some therapy.

“Oh, you guys are so cute,” she cooed, looking between Dannon and I with adoring eyes.

Just kill me now!

“You have my blessing!” my dad suddenly bellowed, grinning like an idiot as he held up his coke in his hand as though he was toasting us.  “Just let me know the date and time, eh?”

I let my head fall in my hands, totally embarrassed.  I began shaking my head back and forth, wishing that I were anywhere else but here.  The mall was looking pretty good right now.  I was sure Kyla was more tolerable than my parents were at this moment in time.

“Oh, um, I was thinking early June?” Dannon mused, holding up his fork with a poor, defenseless—not to mention dead—piece of chicken on it.  “Maybe the sixth?”

My hands still covering my face, I let out a muffled, “Dannon, do not encourage them.”

Even though my voice was muffled by my hands, I allowed as much venom to seep through my voice as I possibly could.  So, hopefully, he got the message.

Well, apparently, he didn’t.  “Honey,” he said slowly, sounded thoroughly amused, “we can’t keep this a secret any longer.”

I let my hands fall, wincing as my left palm landed on my discarded fork.  “What?” I demanded, my eyes narrowing considerably. 

“I mean, we have to tell them,” he said, shrugging and smiling.

I stared him down.  Oh, he was really enjoying himself, wasn’t he?  He enjoyed torturing me, didn’t he?  He enjoyed making me mad, didn’t he?  He enjoyed playing these little games, didn’t he?  Well, from the spark in his eye and the way his smile was shaped, you could tell that, yes, yes he did.

“Tell us what?”

I groaned, tempted to hide my face in my hands again.  My mom leaned forward, her eyes alight.  What her eyes were alight with, I had no idea.  Maybe excitement.  Maybe expectation.  Either way, this conversation was heading down a road I did not want to go on.

“Bri and I . . .” Dannon sighed dramatically, putting on a “nervous” smile.  “Well . . . we . . .”

He was probably hiding the fact that he had no idea what to say with hesitance of letting out the apparent secret we had between us.  I glared at him as he paused, thinking possible answers over in his head.  Why was he doing this to me?  Was it because I chucked a piece of fruit at him?  That was hardly fair.  He ate it after.  That made us even, didn’t it?

“What?” my mom demanded, apparently too excited to wait any longer.

“Well, we were planning on eloping, but I suppose we can have a full ceremony.”  He grabbed my hand lightly within his.  “Because whatever my little angel wants, she gets.”

I recoiled as he winked, ripping my hand out of his grasp.  “You asshole,” I muttered under my breath.

“Brianne!” my mom shrieked as though I called her an asshole.

I stood up from my seat, shooting a glare in Dannon’s direction before saying a quick.  “I need to go to the bathroom.”  I pushed my seat back, moving toward the kitchen entrance.  “Excuse me.”

I trampled up the stairs, rushing passed the bathroom and into my room.  I slammed the door behind me and collapsed on my bed, falling face first into my pillows.  I screamed into them, letting out all my irritation out.  I didn’t usually take my anger out by screaming into pillows, but there was nothing really else to do at this point.  Dannon was probably talking about our supposed wedding plans downstairs, and if I threw a temper tantrum, they’d know I wasn’t actually going to the bathroom.

I lifted my head up from my pillows, sighing.  I wasn’t gonna lie—that felt great.  No wonder girls in movies did that all the time.  I sighed again, sitting up and fixing my hair.  I looked at the doorway.  I really didn’t want to go back downstairs.  But unless I wanted to pretend to have diarrhea—which I definitely did not want to do—I’d have to go downstairs sooner than later.

With a long groan I forced myself off my bed and began my journey back down the stairs.  Mine as well get the rest of this dinner over with.

| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

“I hate you.”

I said these words, pouring as much emotion—as much venom—as I could into the sentence as I possibly could.  It didn’t really work out that well.  I was so worn out from the remainder of dinner that I could collapse from exhaustion right there in my driveway.

Yeah, I was walking Dannon to his car.  My mom so kindly informed me that if I didn’t I’d be grounded until I died.  So I didn’t really have much of a choice.

“Ah,” Dannon said, smiling mischievously as he leaned against his car, “but you love me all the same.”

“No, no I’m pretty sure hating is quite the opposite.”  I glared at him.  “And thanks to you, my family now thinks that I have a boyfriend.  They’re going to make me tell about my first kiss and all that shit.”

That was supposed to make Dannon feel even just a little bit guilty, but it didn’t.  He simply laughed.  It was like absolutely nothing could hurt this guy no matter how hard you tried.  I crossed my arms over my chest, annoyed.  Why did he have to be so difficult?

“Just let me know what you say so I can have the same story,” he teased.

“You’re impossible,” I seethed through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry.”  Dannon waved his hand dismissively.  “I’m sure they knew I was kidding.”

I mentally killed him three times before answering.  “Not if you grab my hand from across the table,” I snapped, throwing my hands up in the air.  “Damn, it’s like you men don’t think!”

Dannon pushed off his car, bringing a hand through his hair.  I watched him coldly, my disdain for him growing with each passing moment.  “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said, flashing another smile in my direction.  “Got too into it, I suppose.”

“You suppose?  You suppose?”

His nonchalance was pissing me off.  Did he not care that he’d doomed me to probably a lifetime of misery?  The second I got inside my mom was probably going to ask a ton of questions.  My dad wouldn’t help me.  No, he’d sit there, amused by it all.  Because, you know, he just loved watch me squirm with discomfort.

Dannon held up his hands innocently.  “I’ll make sure to tell them I was kidding this weekend at the barbeque, I promise.”

I froze.  The barbeque?  The family barbeque at my aunt’s house this weekend?  “What?” I demanded, softly.

Dannon paused, looking my expression over before answering.  “Your parents invited me to a barbeque this weekend.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm myself.  This was not happening.  I just couldn’t get a break, could I?  I’d been looking forward to this weekend!  And now, because of a joke that got way out of hand, I was stuck going with Dannon, the one person that I couldn’t stand. 

I opened my eyes.  “When the hell did this happen?” I shrieked. 

Oops.  Guess I didn’t calm myself after all.

“When you were in the bathroom.”  Dannon shrugged, looking out at the desolate street.

“What?  Oh, right.”  I’d forgotten my excuse for screaming into a pillow had been the bathroom.

Dannon pulled open the driver’s door of his car.  He leaned against it, tilting his head to the side, a small smile on his face.  I wondered if he ever didn’t smile.  It didn’t have to be a frown, or anything to drastic.  Just like . . . a straight line instead of his lips curving upwards all the time.  I attempted to visualize it, but failed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dannon said with a grin, sliding into the driver’s seat.

I crossed my arms over my chest.  “Can’t you just got up and tell them now that you were just kidding?”

“Nope!”  He grinned again.  “I’m too lazy.”

I glared.  “You’re putting me through a week of hell because you’re too lazy?”

Dannon nodded.  “Uh-huh.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he slammed his car’s door shut, buckled up, and pulled out of my driveway.  I stood there, staring after him.  My jaw worked angrily.  He infuriated me.  I didn’t understand what everyone—my mom, dad, Kyla, and everyone else—saw in him.  Was it because he smiled at you all the time?  Please.

With an irritated huff, I spun, turning around and storming back into my house.

| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

I stared at my history test in shock.  I couldn’t believe it.  I just couldn’t believe it.  You know that feeling you get when something incredible happens to you, but your mind just can’t register it?  You stare, mind-blown, not able to comprehend the good news.

Well, that was what was happening to me.

“Hey, looks like you didn’t fail after all,” came a voice over my shoulder.

I jumped, almost dropping the paper with the three-digit number written crappily in red pen on the floor.  “What the hell!” I shrieked after I regained my composure.  “Will you stop popping up everywhere?”

Dannon shrugged.  We were standing, waiting for the bell to ring.  I glanced behind him, noting how Shelley and Garner weren’t anywhere to be seen.  That was odd.  Whenever class was about to be let out, the three of them were always together. 

While I was deep in thought about the missing crew members, Dannon reached over and stole my paper from my hand.  “Not my fault you’re so jumpy,” he pointed out, looking the paper over. 

“Hey!  Give it back!”

I rushed forward, clawing at him.  Dannon grinned, holding my test out of my reach, his eyes glued to the paper.  I glared, hopping up and down.  Dammit.  This was a terrible time to be short.

“I want to see the ones that I got wrong.”

I cursed under my breath as the bell rang and Dannon trotted away, my test still in his hands.  I hurried after him, scowling.  Did he really think that I was just going to let him steal my test?  Let alone my test that scored a one-hundred?  It wasn’t every day you scored a test that high in history.  In fact, it’d had never happened to me before.

“So ask someone else,” I hissed, reaching over his shoulder and trying to grab it by surprise.  It didn’t work out very well.  He simply adjusted the position of his hands, easily dodging me.

Dannon was such a jerk.

He spun, the paper out stretched in his hand.  I went to grab it, but at the last second he pulled back playfully.  But, little did he know, that I’d gotten ahold of the edge of the paper.  But instead of getting the paper back like I’d intended, I succeeded in ripping it.

“Dammit,” I muttered, dying a little inside now that my perfect score was now less perfect that one of the zeros had come off when it got ripped.  “Look what you did.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Dannon denied, smiling.  “That was completely your fault.”

I probably would have slapped him if I weren’t such a coward.

Instead I balled the small piece of paper in my hand up and chucked it in the trash.  I adjusted my bag, fixing him a glare.  “Give me my test back.”

Dannon sighed, finally handing it over.  I took it from him, holding it securely in my hands.  “You couldn’t have just done that the first time?” I demanded, taking a step away from him as a precaution.  “You had to rip it?”

Dannon laughed.  “You’re the one who ripped it.”

I sniffed, spinning around on my heel and stomping down the hallway.  My fellow classmates didn’t seem to realize how irritated I was, because they took their good old time venturing down the hall.  I looked up at the ceiling, praying that I wouldn’t be late for class.  Mr. Salbatross might have been cool, but he wouldn’t hesitate to give me a detention for not making it on time.

“What’s that?”

I let my gaze fall from the ceiling and back down to the hallway.  Kyla stood there, staring at me in amusement.  I huffed, flashing the piece of paper before falling into step beside her.  “Dannon ripped my test!” I whined.

“Oh boohoo,” Kyla teased, obviously feeling no sympathy for me.  “It’s not like you save them.”

“It was a hundred, Ky,” I mumbled, looking back down at my test again.  I pouted.  “A hundred—in history.”

Kyla looked impressed.  “Oh, that is good!”  She patted me on the shoulder, flashing me a smile.  “Don’t worry the memory will always be there.”

I glared ahead of me.  Sure, the memory would always be there, but it would have been nice to have an untarnished souvenir.   “Yeah, I guess,” I muttered.  “So Dannon ended up eating at my house last night and—”

Kyla stopped walking.  The girl behind her cursed shouting for her to watch it before bustling down the hallway, antsy to get to class.  I turned, waiting somewhat-patiently for her to get over her shock and continue down the hallway.

“What?” she demanded, her eyes so wide I thought that they were going to pop out of her skull.  “Why wasn’t I informed?”

I shrugged, growing tired of her just standing there and grabbing her arm.  I pushed her forward, forcing her to continue walking.  She laughed at my impatience and started walking again.  “I was mad at you,” I replied bluntly, shrugging again.  “And then I was mad at Dannon.  So I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

Kyla giggled.  “What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” I muttered.  “He just might have gotten my parents to think that we’re dating.  Oh, and now he’s coming to the family barbeque.” 

Kyla didn’t seem the least bit interested in the fact that he was invited to the barbeque.  Instead she cocked an eyebrow exclaiming, “He got your parents to think you were dating?  How?”

I sighed deeply.  “Well, it wasn’t really that hard.  They already thought we were.  He just followed along.”

Kyla laughed.  “Stan and Julie were probably like ‘Whaaaaaaat?’”  She grinned.  “Ah, gosh, I wish I could have been there.”

Over the years, Kyla’d become used to calling my mom and dad by their first names.  Sometimes you’d even catch her calling them Mom or Dad.  Ever since elementary school, she’d been a part of the family.

“I wish you could have taken my place.”  I huffed.  “I blame you for all my troubles, by the way.”

“What troubles?”  Kyla shook her head, smiling.  “These are not troubles, my friend.  I’d be honored to have that man in my house.”

“I’m not you,” I felt the need to point out even though I knew she was just going to shrug it off.

As I predicted, that was exactly what she did.  “I told you,” she said, tossing me a grin.  “The apple’s at work.”

I rolled my eyes, shrugging my backpack into a comfier position.  “Yeah, right.”