Therapy

"You've fallen in love, haven't you?" she asked, eyes judging me over the rim of her wire-framed glasses. Her legs were crossed underneath her pleated skirt, blonde hair tied back into a loose bun that screamed of her 'intelligence'.

I laughed arrogantly. "As if," I scowled. "I'm fifteen."

She shrugged. "That makes no difference."

I leant back into the leather couch, feeling the cold material against the base of my back. Why did I even go there? What was the point in showing up in her house?

I scowled again looking around her living room, the pictures that hung on the wall of her proud family, her loving simpering fans and her loyal friends.

They didn't realise that I was the brains behind the whole operation. No, only one person knew that.

My heart pounded at the thought of that person. He, who had managed to stumble into our lives and change us so dramatically.

"Whatever," I mumbled, clearly aware of how immature I sounded.

"I think we both know why you're here," she said simply, pulling off her glasses to bite the end of them in that annoying fashion.

"Care to explain," I said callously, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not going to explain to you how you are in love," she answered simply, standing up. "I know why you are though."

I sighed, feeling a speech coming on - as usual.

"You are here because your mother found out you smoke," she told me.

I made sure no emotion made it to my face - as usual.

"But you wouldn't come here just for that," she mused, walking away from me towards the bookcase lined wall.

What was she saying? She was doing it again. That aggravating thing where she gets under my skin and knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"Have you ever considered the fact that I'm your best friend?" she asked, looking over at me with those bright blue eyes.

Anger flared up underneath my skin, torturing my body. Why did she always do that!? Annoying me to no end and for some reason I actually got bothered by it!

"So, what is it?" she asked, eyes looking at me with that unbeatable innocent look that she knew she had.

"You assume too much," I said cooly.

"Aw, you really do love me. I am your best friend," she beamed.

I raged. I'm unsure of how it happened, but the cool and composed me cracked, pinning her to the floor.

"Would you stop it!" I yelled. "Stop being such... such ... an idiot! Can't you see that I hate you? I can't stand you! You're naive and act like a baby and you're innocent and spoilt!"

I watched the shock on her face slowly turn to something that confused me.

Happiness.

"You opened up to me."

And then she did something that confused me even more; made me re-think everything I had ever thought about her. Just one single gesture that left me more angry that I thought could be possible.

She smiled.

The End

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