Chapter 269 Yogurt
Man, I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl under a rock.
Why’d she have to be so blunt about something so personal? My face was on fire.
Thank God no one else was around, or I’d have died of shame.
"Oh." Isla dragged out her words with a teasing smile, "I get it, you're off to see Mr. Pitt. Totally normal. If I had a hottie like him, I'd be all over him too. Jane, you might not know, but Mr. Pitt's like a rockstar at school. So many girls are crushing on him. By the way, Jane, weren't you heading to see him? Just go already. But seriously, Jane, you don't visit him enough. If it were me, I'd be checking on him every hour to keep him close."
Isla's bluntness made me feel super shy. Was it that obvious I wanted to see Brad? Awkward much.
Every hour? Yeah right, I'd never get anything done. I'd just be running back and forth all day. It took over twenty minutes just to jog from my place to Brad's office.
Isla's teasing kinda killed my vibe to see Brad.
I really needed to chill out; I was way too impulsive and all over the place.
Even if that guy was Brad, so what? He must have his reasons. I trusted he wouldn't lie to me.
The problem was, I kept telling myself Brad wouldn't lie, and I should trust him. But I was dying to know the truth, and it made me want to see him right away and figure out what was up.
As I was debating whether to go find him, Brad's video call finally came through.
Seeing his name on the screen, I felt a bit hesitant to answer.
"Pick it up, it's Mr. Pitt." Isla nudged me. I watched as the call ended and the ringtone started again. I picked up the phone.
Brad's voice was as deep and sweet as ever, super nice to hear.
He said he had a social event tonight and would be back late, so I shouldn't wait up and should hit the sack early. He also mentioned he’d checked out a few houses and found some good ones. He said he'd take me to see them when he had time so I could pick my favorite.
He talked for about five minutes but didn't mention the supermarket thing. Yet, the clothes he was wearing matched the guy I saw at the supermarket.
I felt more and more uneasy, but I didn't know if I should bring it up.
Sometimes I really hated how I couldn't speak up. I’d think things through in my head, but when it came to actually doing something, it was a different story. Especially with relationship stuff, I’d chicken out. It was pretty lame.
Brad, being the sensitive guy he was, noticed something was off. He stopped talking and asked, "You seem upset. What's wrong? Is your painting not going well?"
His brows furrowed a bit, and his gaze, intense and searching, locked onto my eyes like he was trying to read my mind.
Suddenly, it clicked. He was my Brad, my boyfriend. I should just ask him straight up. We agreed on this, right? Why keep it bottled up and guess?
All those books said misunderstandings and emotional walls were the biggest love killers, and lack of communication was the main cause of those issues.
Back at the Northern Institute of the Arts, when I helped Jenny deliver her love letter, Brad ignored me for days, leaving me clueless about what I had done wrong.
Later, Brad and I made a pact: no matter what was bugging us, we’d talk it out face-to-face and sort it together.
So why did I turn into such a wimp when something actually went down?
I rubbed my cheeks, trying to loosen up. "Brad, where were you earlier? Why are you all sweaty?"
Brad casually wiped his forehead with his fingers. "I was checking out houses. Got thirsty and hit the supermarket for some water. Ran into Jenny there and asked about her recovery, so we walked around a bit. The supermarket was pretty cool, though. How’d you even notice I was sweating?"
So that’s what went down.
I knew it.
The cloud over my heart lifted.
While munching dinner with Isla, I scrolled through my News Feed and saw a post from someone buried at the bottom of my list: "If it's you, I don't mind waiting a few more years."
The pic showed a corner of the supermarket, with a tall dude standing in front of a row of yogurt. He was holding a red box, seriously reading the ingredients. Judging by his spot, he was probably holding a box of solid yogurt, with red packaging indicating strawberry flavor, my fave.
Brad didn’t mention buying snacks for me, and he hadn’t come back yet, so I couldn’t be sure that yogurt was for me.
On the flip side, Jenny, being a lifesaver, deserved some treats or even fancy gifts. Totally normal.
It was just yogurt, not worth stressing over.
But I couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous.
Ugh, I hated how petty I was.
To avoid any drama from that two-faced Jenny, I kept a close eye on her News Feed and found that her latest post was the one I had just seen. The previous posts, dating back two months, were all about her daily life, including pics from various lavish parties with lots of handsome guys, gals, and fine wine.
None of them were about love.
From this, I figured two things: Jenny’s post was probably aimed at me, and her private life was pretty wild and free-spirited.
I finished late that night, and since Brad couldn’t pick me up, Adam cheerfully offered to take me home, with Isla insisting on tagging along.
Adam was pretty nice to Isla. He pretended to scold her a bit but ultimately let her come along.
People said you could tell if a guy was into a girl by whether he indulged her. Adam’s indulgence of Isla suggested they might end up together.
We chatted and laughed all the way home, and when we got there, I leaned on the balcony to watch them leave. Isla clung to Adam like a shadow, trying to grab his coat several times, only to be refused, yet persistently trying again. Adam, helplessly resigned, walked quickly with his long legs, while Isla happily bounced along.
So that was Isla’s real motive.
Taking me home was just an excuse.
Mia had gone to bed early, and Brad wasn’t back yet. I sat alone in the living room, feeling pretty lonely.
For the first time in five years, I felt this lonely.
I called him, and he answered quickly, but the background noise was too loud to hear clearly. He raised his voice and said a few words before hanging up.
Soon after, I got a message from Brad saying he might be out late and that I should go to bed without waiting for him.
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