Idiots to Lovers (bxb)

12 | Rainbow Caterpillar and The Chair Pile

It was our third day of couples counseling and I was feeling a bit apprehensive as I drove to pick Everett up. Holly had started digging into our pasts the last session, questioning mostly me. I was hoping she would just interrogate Everett this week. I'm sure I won't be able to come up with any information about our fake relationship, and Everett has a...creative mind.

Everett flung open the door while I was still walking up his driveway. His messy hair was still slightly damp from a shower, and curlier than ever. He was wearing his favourite yellow T-shirt again.

"Hey," he yelled from across the path, waving madly.

"Hey," I said as I neared him.

Everett beamed and stepped aside, beckoning me to come in.

"So why did you want me to come here before the counseling session?" I asked. He hadn't really specified on the phone.

"My dad wanted to see you," he informed me.

"What?" I exclaimed horrified, pausing at the doorway, "Why would—why didn't you tell me?!"

"Chill out dude." Everett cast me a sideways glance, yanking me in and shutting the door. "You left before he could pay you the other day."

"Pay me for what?" I asked, confused.

"The cupcakes!"

"Oh." My face cleared. "He doesn't have to pay me for that...it was part of the bet anyway. But I swear Dr. Wrinkle will figure it out today," I added, "When she finally asks us why we're even in therapy."

Everett waved me off. "Nah she seems pretty clueless. Anyway, those cupcakes were aside from the wager."

"But we didn't bake anything else," I argued as he pulled me upstairs.

Aside from it being part of the bet, I also really didn't want to meet the man I had almost run over the other day.

"It was like a hundred cupcakes for an order, Clementine, you're getting paid for it," Everett stated. "Everyone really loved the decorations you did. They said they'll recommend it for all their friends' kids' birthdays too."

"That's really nice of them," I said, feeling a bit stunned, "It was fun making those."

Everett spun around at the top of the stairs, shooting me a sudden smile. As bright and as fleeting as a shooting star.

"I had fun baking with you too Clementine." His eyes twinkled. "And you're really talented at art stuff."

"No I'm not...I can't draw or paint or anything," I protested.

"You don't have to draw or paint to be artistic! Don't you see, Clementine, cupcakes are your medium."

Everett spread his arms wide at the revelation and I laughed.

"Dad! Clementine's here!" he suddenly yelled, pushing open a door without knocking. "You can go in," he said to me, "I'm gonna go dry my hair."

"Wait, you're just going to leave me here alone?" I hissed.

Everett just shrugged and walked off to my greatest dismay. I loitered for a moment in the hallway but a voice from inside the room boomed at me to enter.

I meekly slipped into what seemed to be a home office. The walls were lined with sturdy wooden bookshelves, holding files and knickknacks than actual books. Everett's dad sat behind a desk, typing something at a computer. He looked up at me, glaring as I walked in.

"You're the boy who tried to run me over," he declared, his tone accusing.

"I didn't mean-I wasn't trying to-I—" I gulped, stumbling over my words. "I'm sorry!" I finally squeaked out.