“Oh, please call me Summer.”
At her warm smile, Janet’s expressions soften. She was pissed not one minute ago at the imposter. And look at her now.
Summer smiles at her and then slides her eyes at me. Her smile vanishes then. Her eyes narrow slightly. Hmm. She is not so subtly letting me know that she doesn’t like me.
“Please take a seat, Summer,” Janet says as she resumes her seat to my left.
She bites her lip and stares at the twelve vacant chairs. “Um, where should I sit?” she asks with a sheepish grin while playing with her backpack’s strap.
I roll my eyes.
“Wherever you are comfortable.” At Janet’s amused tone, I turn to frown at her.
I have to admit. Summer has a charming personality. Just like her name, her smile reminds me of the smell of the sea and clear skies. And with her naivety, she managed to win over Janet.
Summer chooses the farthest seat possible. Exactly opposite mine, at the end of the table.
She shrugs her backpack off and places it on the vacant chair beside her. Right when she is about to sit, I say, “Stop.”
Her body stops mid-air. Her beautiful heterochromia eyes glare at me.
“Come here.” At my command, she straightens.
“Pardon?”
I simply stare at her, then slowly nod at the chair to my right.
She doesn’t move. She is being disrespectful. She came here lying that she is my friend. And now that she is standing in front of me, instead of appearing scared she is pissed. She has guts.
This little liar needs an attitude adjustment. Or maybe it’s my pants that need adjustment. I thought her smiles and her strawberry scent had an effect on me. Well, everything falls short in front of Summer’s fiery gaze.
“Are you having a bad day?” she asks.
“What?”
“I asked a simple question. Are you having a bad day?” She lifts her shoulder as if my confusion at her random question is not warranted.
When I don’t answer, she asks again. “Are you? If so, I can remedy that.” She reaches for her backpack. She roots inside for something before holding it up. “Want this?”
I squint at the lollipop she is holding.
“Having something sweet can improve your mood.”
“Maybe for a teenager like you.”
She gasps. “Take it back!”
I stare at her with a cool expression.
“I am a twenty-seven-year-old woman!” she throws her hands up.
I rub my chin with my fingers. “Is that right?”
She nods her head frantically.
“Then how about you start acting like one?”
“Y-you!”