Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

Deirdre tossed an implicative glance outside the kitchen. "Believe me, I've seen the worst, and now nobody else's skill could ever faze me again.

Seriously, try to surprise me."

"Heh." Declan excitedly washed his hands and grabbed a spare knife. He made a few nicks and began to unpeel it. "How’s this?"

Deirdre's poor sight would not be able to help her tell, but she also thought this was the best opportunity to get Glenna and Declan talking again. "What do you think, Glenna?"

Quietly exasperated, Glenna turned in the direction of Declan's hand and noticed how beautiful his fingers really were. It was as if a man with good genes simply could not have anything remotely out of place in any part of their physical appearance. Glenna never fancied herself as someone who gave a dime about hands, and yet even her heart throbbed.

When she finally broke out of her trance, she realized she had been silent too long.

Declan tried to dispel the awkwardness in the air with a chuckle. "I must have done a really crappy job if my panelist can't review my handiwork."

nick. "How

declared. She set her knife and potato down and hurried out of the

to himself,

disappeared into and felt her heart sink. She could not stop thinking about the conversation she had overheard. What happened? What was it that made Glenna hold that big of a grudge? She obviously had a crush on Declan,

asked, "I know the two of you had made up, Mr. King, but why

had burst into tears at that time despite himself and asked, "Say, what

Deirdre was shocked. "What sort of question is that? Did ...

before finding an excuse. "I just

her work as she exhaled a breath. "Glenna's a tough cookie. I've never seen or heard her cry before, which means... if she did cry, then it must have been over something that really

only returned after the potato slices were almost done. She explained that she was having a stomachache. Not willing to expose her, Deirdre played along.

be it. It must be that super-spicy taco from the other day. D*mnit,

frying pan

chips was ready. Deirdre moved on to their other dishes-including Glenna's stuffed eggplants- until, finally, the dinner was

always been a lively chatterbox, yet today, she was uncharacteristically