#Chapter6

Feeling is Mutual

"Well?" Phoebe prompted as she glanced at me.

"Atlas? What atlas?" I asked, blinking rapidly at her. She only huffed as she turned to flip the waffle iron, "What do you need an atlas for? You don't need an atlas. You're bad at directions. You get lost in your own room." I added my word vomit.

"I smelled his scent in your room, Dione." She said, her voice monotonous.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers. Exactly what I do when I'm lying.

And since Phoebe has been a friend of mine for a long time, my little actions didn't...