Betsy would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward till Tuesday— when she would help Ashton with his English again.

She brushed the thought off—her mind set on the made up excuse that she only wanted Tuesday to come already so she she could get it over with.

Luca began to notice this—her liking towards Ashton Anders. He watched intently as she blabbered on about how annoying he was when he had asked her countless questions during their analysis on Macbeth.

"I was trying to show him the blood and milk symbolisation in Macbeth, but no he was all like 'so what's your favourite colour' and I was like dude I don't know what does it look like while pointing to my hair. Then he laughed and asked another question!"

She was pacing up and down her bedroom, breathless and on the verge of yet another rant. All Luca had done was come in and tell her dinner is ready and yet here he was ten minutes later listening to her complain.

Luca nodded along to her words, noticing the way she became so worked up over Ashton. Betsy tended to be a 'I don't give a fuck' kind of girl and here she was, giving a fuck about none other then Ashton Anders.

It made Luca angry but his facial expressions and body language conveyed nothing but calmness.

"Are you done yet?" he asked after a moment.

"I just-Luca, he's literally coming over here in a couple days. What the fuck to I do?"

"I got it!" Luca exclaimed, and Betsy looked towards him with hopeful eyes, "Why don't you just tell him to not come at all!"

Hopeful turned into a scowl and she stuck the middle finger up at her brother, before flopping down onto her bed.

"Whatever Bezzy I'm hungry so I'm going for dinner," Luca mumbled, before leaving Betsy's room.

Betsy basked in the silence and proceeded to rant—this time in her head. It soon became apparent to herself as well, that maybe she truly did like Ashton and not in a platonic way.

She gagged at the thought.