Page 37 of Bossy Grump's Secret

He looks at me with pure exasperation; what I’m saying makes too much sense to bypass. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his dark, silky hair. I’ll miss that.

"It was fun while it lasted...I guess," I tell him and turn to face the other way. I can’t bear to keep seeing him in pain.

"I'll come and check up on you later," he offers simply, and I know what that means. Resignation. A single tear drop falls from my eye as I hear his footsteps tread down the hall.

It was fun while it lasted.

Ava

“Wake up, Ava. We don’t have the protection of your boyfriend anymore, so if we get in trouble for sleeping in, this is really it,” Lily whines and continues to shake me as violently as her small hands can rattle me…which is a lot.

“We never had his protection, Lily,” I clarify as I finally stir – a placebo to get her to leave me alone. “…and he was never my boyfriend,” I add.

“Shut up.” She keeps pulling me to ensure I haven't tricked her, and I am about to go back to sleep the moment she turns her back. My coyness is running out. "All the lovey-dovey? The late-night visits, the hugs and kisses that made me want to puke as your love made my singleness look like an abominable sin and threatened to cast me into the flames of eternal suffering for my atrocious loneliness…."

“What are you even saying?” I scrunch my face.

"Yes, I'm saying nonsense, but if it’ll keep you awake. I’m willing to make a mockery out of myself to do so, ” Lily huffs and with a tough tug, she throws me out of bed and atop her.

“You must feel really proud of yourself, don’t you?” I groan, unimpressed.

“How did you feel when you got your first paycheck?” she asks. “Exhilarated, right? Doesn’t it feel good to make more than a thousand bucks in a month?”

"Yeah, it does. But we have the next thirty years to do that. Now, I just wanna sleep,” I reply.

“Okay, enough talk. Get up and get in the shower. Now!” she commands, I obey without further questioning her pep talk.

It’s a good thing that she knows me well enough. There’s so much more trouble than I’d have gotten her into otherwise.

It's safe to say at this point that I fear the activity of getting ready for work than the actual work itself. There's just some level of dread and fore-brooding in my mind about how the day's task will probably take so much energy out of me I'll pass out before midday. While on some days, it feels like the sun stands still, and work seems to go on forever, most of the time, the day is over before I realize it.

However, the most exciting parts of most days are times like this every morning when we have to assemble before our superior…when I get to see him.

It’s the best part of my morning every time I greet him as emotionlessly as possible. But each day, I see crawling improvements…. but improvements. It’s also eventful to look at his face and watch him express the same emotion I feel–nonchalance–when I know that not even deep down is a heart that still cares about me and a body that still craves me. As he assigns us to our daily tasks and bids us to do our work, I can’t help but wonder if he knows I care about him too.

The problems, though, are very minor. I revel in the brief contacts we have after the morning. I feel slightly disappointed when he doesn’t show up during the workday. Today starts out sufficiently different, however. For starters, I’m placed on the same floor,at as he will mostly conduct his daily activities.

Whatever he is doing at work hardly concerns me. His presence is enough for me to worry about. Although I miss him dearly, it’s still an awkward situation to get by every time we meet.

I soon find out after our first encounter.

“Hey,” he nods over at me when I move from one room to another. I nod respectfully back, feeling my voice fail me enough to make whatever would come out of my mouth sound pathetic.

“You’re moving fast. I like that,” Dylan says and shrugs awkwardly.

Call me a monster, but I find it amusing how uncomfortable the situation is for him. While I feel even more uncomfortable, the thought of his discomfort is satisfying enough to make me endure a little further.

“You should like it. Makes you look good,” I sniff.

"I suppose so. You can take it easy, though. It doesn't need so much of a hassle."

Yup. Sufficiently weird to me, too - weird enough for me to deem the conversation over. I nod to him and turn my back in finality, entering the room to complete my work. We run into each other thrice more in the next set of hours.

"I've seen you alone too often. Where's Robbie?" There's that accent of bossiness in his voice. Still, I can tell it's from protectiveness and not the genuine problematic behaviors accruing most superiors.

"Oh, that? If we took the rooms individually, we'd eventually cover more ground and be done with the quota with extra time to relax, ” I answer judiciously.

Yes! No awkward quiver! I mentally commend myself.

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