A Contractual Love
the girl, which I guess was named Stacy, said reluctantly with a scrunched face.
Our eyes met, and she scratched her head, nervously. Before she stuttered,
“It’s actually, ummm… Stacy,”
“I am her boyfriend.” I said. Making both heads snapp at me.
“B-boyfriend?” The teenager was shocked as hell.
This time Irene frowned with mumbling something that was inaudible to me. And she closed her eyes, maybe she surrendered.
“Uhh- yeah,” she spoke.
“You are dating Kian Calloway?” was the question she asked.