{Chloe}

The insistent tapping of his pencil is bothering me, but I'm not going to say anything. I'm not particularly in the mood to start another fight with him, and I know that if I open up my mouth, that is what will inevitably happen.

You know those stupid love-hate relationships? The ones where one minute you love a person, and the next you absolutely hate them? Yeah, well…that is definitely what he and I share.

Only the love part is non-existent.

You see, Justin Timberlake is the type of man, and I use that word loosely, that never fails in tempting me away from the male population all together. He's that all around cocky, arrogant, asshole type of guy; I can't stand him…and he can't stand me. It's a mutual thing.

As he continues to beat that dammed pencil against his textbook, I decide that perhaps I'm going to have to say something to him after all. What the hell, anyway? I could really care less if I piss him off right now—it won't be the first time—and most likely not the last.

More than aggravated, I finally look up from my laptop to glare at him. "Would you stop?"

Two heads turn in my direction, his being the one that, in my opinion, most likely lacks a brain. "No. You can leave though," he answers, smugly. Typical answer from your typical idiot.

"Would you just stop with the damn tapping?" I ask again. "Unlike some people, I actually want to learn something while studying."

He rolls his eyes at me. Jerk. "Right. The only thing you were studying was me, baby doll, and sorry to break it you—but no—I'm way out of your league."

I bite the inside of my cheek, which is my best attempt as to not retort to that moronic, conceited remark. It doesn't work. "Justin, if you were the last person on this planet, I still wouldn’t want anything to do with your cocky ass. So I'm gonna say this one more time…shut the hell up so I can study!"

"Why don't you…"

"For the love of God, both of you shut the fuck up!"

My glance finally lands on Chris, surprised by his loud outburst. I sort of feel sorry for the guy, always having to be the mediator between our bickering. On more than one occasion he's pleaded with me, and accordingly Justin, to at least try to be civil towards each other.

Fat chance that will ever happen.

I don't tell him that though, because I love the guy. He's my best friend; he's a savior. I don’t know where I'd be without him, without his advice and his encouragement. I wouldn't even have a place to live if it weren't for him. And I appreciate that he's taken me in, so much more than anyone could possibly imagine. I just wish Justin didn't have to be his other roommate, his 'other' best buddy. God only knows what he sees in him to actually want him as a friend.

"I'm going to the library," I finally relent, making sure I create a lot of noise as I hastily shove things inside of my bag. Justin is still tapping his pencil, and he gives a condescending smile in my direction in response to my announcement.

Bastard.


***


I hear loud gigging and the squeaking of a bed as I lay in my own. It's coming from his room. I flip so that I am lying on my side, and I inwardly roll my eyes at the continuous noises.

He is such a man-whore. I swear he's probably fucked half of our entire University by now. At present, the giggles have stopped, and they are instead replaced by obnoxious hums and moans. It was of course just my luck that the only room available was the one next to his, right?

Throwing the covers off of my body, I get up and search around my dim room. I'm looking for something—anything that will make an impacting noise on the wall—so that I can throw it against it and tell Justin and his current flavor of the day to kick their little love fest down a fucking notch.

Damn it. All I can find that won't cause major damage to anything is a pile of magazines. That won't even cover his tramp's loud giggling, let alone her moaning and groaning.

That's it. I am not listening to this all night. I have to get up and go to work in just a few short hours. I need sleep.

As I open up my bedroom door, I head straight for his and begin to pound my knuckles against it. I can hear rustling and then Justin mumbling various profanities, as the sound of his footsteps grows nearer. Finally, he pops his head out, his cold eyes landing on my own. "What the fuck are you knocking on my door for?"

I cross my hands over my chest and narrow my eyes on him. "I can't sleep, because you and your little…" I pause, I don't want to insult the girl I guess. After all, I don't know her. "Listen, can you please keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."

He growls at me and carelessly nods his head. "Fine. Don't interrupt me again."

And with that, he slams his door shut in my face. Did I mention to you that I hated him?


***

{Justin}

"Hey man, the food here yet?"

I let my friend inside the apartment and nod my head. "Yeah, it just came."

He follows me into the kitchen, and I reach into the fridge for two drinks before joining him at the table. He's already biting into a slice of pepperoni and cheese pizza as I grab for my own.

As I take a huge bite, Trace looks at me and grins slyly. "I heard about you and Elise. Please tell me how you got into that girl's pants! She's fine and rich."

I click my tongue and grin at him. "It's all in the charm, my man. All in the charm." Just as I finish speaking, I notice we have another body joining us in the kitchen, and I discreetly watch her move. She's got on a pair of pajama shorts, and my eyes idly roam up and down her tanned legs to her ass…

"Hey Chloe," Trace greets her, interrupting my thoughts.

She gives him a half-smile and continues towards the fridge. "Hi Trace."

"Hi Justin," I mumble, causing him to snicker and her to give me that all-too-familiar glare of hers. "See something you like?" I taunt. If she's gonna look, I'm gonna talk.

"Nope. Just an ass."

Trace shakes his head and interrupts before we can even start going at it again. "Are you hungry babe? We got lots of pizza over here."

I watch as Chloe sighs, taking a sip from the cup of water she's retrieved for herself by now. "No thanks. I'm trying to watch what I eat."

Oh…oh. I know this will piss her off bad. And to be honest, even though I do hate the girl, I can't deny that she's got a pretty cute body on her. Though I usually like them bigger in the chest. Oh well, I'm still going to say it anyways. "Yeah—you could probably afford to lose a few pounds here and there."

Her normally just 'I hate you' glare turns into one of death. She gives me the finger and strides out of the room, mumbling her goodbyes to Trace. He gives me a look once she's gone. "That was cold. You know how women are about that shit."

I shrug. "Whatever, she's a bitch. Last night, she interrupted me and Elise. I was pissed."

"Maybe she wants you."

"Probably," I reply, smugly. "Too bad for her, though."

Trace chews on another bite of his pizza before sarcastically rolling his eyes at me. "Come on, J. I was kidding. You don't actually think that girl wants you? She may be one of the few, but she definitely hates you, buddy."

"Whatever. If wanted her, I could have her," I answer, taking a large swig of my Coke and then finishing off my thought. "But I don't."

"So you're telling me you don't even think she's the slightest bit hot?"

"Nope."

Giving me a 'get real' look, he replies, "I don't know about you then, but I'd do her. And I still don't think you could get her."

I grab for another slice and set it down before looking at him in annoyance. "Does it really matter? I don't want her, she's a complete bitch to me, and she's way too much of a prude for my liking."

"But you said you could get her," he repeats.

I raise my eyebrows. I'm starting to think I'm getting challenged here, but maybe I'm wrong. "What are you getting at? Wanting to make a bet with me, T? I'd be careful with that..."

He gives me a confident grin in response. "So what if I am?"

"What are the terms?" I ask, a little interested. I'm the type to always take on a challenge—and succeed at it.

"You gotta get her to sleep with you."

I retort with a scoff. "Too easy."

"Not so fast—I'm not done yet. You also gotta get her to like you—no, love you—I’m talking the eating-out-of-the-palm-of-your-hands type shit. And you gotta have valid proof."

My eyes narrow on him. Now that part—maybe not so easy. After all, I gotta be honest with myself here. She really does hate me. "What kind of proof?" I wonder, skeptically.

"I don't know. All that cheesy shit girls like to do—a love letter, something. I'll be able to tell by the way she acts."

I contemplate that for a moment and then mention my holdup. "You're forgetting one thing. What's in it for me?" I ask. I'm almost convinced here, and this will probably do me in if it's good enough.

"Damn, J!" he exclaims. "If you make it, you'll already have gotten into her panties…what more can you want?" He pauses when I don't answer him and then adds onto his reply. "Think about it. She's the one girl you can't have. She despises you—she's your impossible—if you get her, then damn, I will give you your props. But I don't think you will," he finishes off, challenging me with a smirk.

I think about that for a second and then shrug my shoulders at him. What do I want? Nothing, really. He's right. The satisfaction will probably be good enough for me anyways. She is a challenge; I just never thought of her that way until now. She's a game to be won. And I'm just the player to do that.

I lick my lips and accept his proposal with a crooked smile. "Alright. It's a bet."

As I reach my hand out to shake on it, he quickly stops me. "Wait a second. There has to be a time limit on this. You don't get forever."

"How long?"

"Hmm—well, since she hates you—I'll be generous. Four months from today?"

I nod, but I'm starting to feel a little nervous about this for some reason. Shit. Four months can go by fast. "Six," I suddenly supply.

"Five."

"Six or no deal."


***


Elise is kissing and sucking on my neck, but I'm not even concentrating on her. All I can think about is the bet I made earlier today. I mean, how am I going to pull this off exactly?

Chloe left while Trace was still over, so I didn't even get a chance to start working some sort of charms on her yet. I guess I'll have to start on that shit soon, though. I only have six months, and I'm a busy guy. It's not like I'm going to be able to spend every second of my time on this 'project'.

I'm in college; I've got grades to maintain. And damn it, I'm not giving up on my other girls, either. I'll just have to start going to their places instead so that Chloe doesn't know about it.

"Justin," Elise whines, suddenly pulling away from me. "What's wrong with you?"

I look up at her and sigh. "Sorry baby, I was just thinkin' is all."

"About what?" she asks, going back to my neck. "Why are you thinking at a time like this? You should have at least taken something off of me by now!"

My eyes roll back at her seductive whisper. Damn. I guess the bet will just have to wait until tomorrow.

{Justin}

Okay. Things really aren't going so great for me right now. It's already day two of my bet, and unfortunately, I still can't get started on this thing. Why, you ask? Because I have Elise following me around like a damn dog, that's why.

Honestly. I've been trying to get rid of the girl all morning. She's even behind me right now as I once again enter into my apartment. I can immediately hear Chloe's laughter—she always seems to be laughing when I'm not around—and then Chris, talking in some weird voice as I pass through the doorframe.

Upon reaching the living room, I announce, "I'm home." I then proceed to look on in disgust as to the fact that I have found them on the floor, Chloe giggling inside of his arms. Obviously they've been engaging in some sort of twisted wrestling match before I got here. Chris is my boy, but damn, can he please get off of my future prize here? I have a job to do, and their flirting isn't going to help me any.

I know what you're thinking—but I'm not jealous. No, I'm not. It's just that now that this idea has been planted into my head, I want it to hurry up and happen. I like things to come to me quickly and easily—that's how it usually is for me. I have a bad feeling Chloe, a.k.a. major bitch with something stuck up her ass, will be different though.

Chris looks up at us and gives a non-committal smile, greeting me and what's-her-face casually. "Hey J…Elise."

Clearly, he's not getting the 'get-the-fuck-off-of-her' signals I'm shooting at them with my eyes. I guess I'll just have to use a better tactic. And I know I'm supposed to be working on getting onto her good side here, but I think we can all agree that right now it's not the time nor place for that.

"So Chloe—I see you're already trying to get free rent around here," I quip, suggesting the obvious with a smirk and a flick of my hand in their direction.

The smile on her face immediately falls, and she looks at me like I am the scum of the earth. All right—so I admit I can be a jerk at times—but so what? I'm sure you're not perfect, either.

"Back off, J. That was uncalled for and you know it," Chris scolds me, pinning her against him. She looks like she's about ready to get up and attack me. Yeah baby, you can attack me all right—in the bedroom.

I suddenly hear Elise whining my name out, interrupting my thoughts, as I unfortunately recall that she's still with me. "Can we just go to your room?" she suggests, hopefully.

"Yeah, why don't you listen to your girl? It sounds like she at least has a brain—something you're obviously lacking."

Sweet, little Chloe and her smart remarks. That's fine though. I'll let her have this one. I'll go spend my energy getting rid of my other nuisance at the moment. After all, it won't be long—six months or less, mind you—before I've got her following me around like a dog, too.


***

{Chloe}

Damn it. Someone is here. I was just starting to get into this show, too. I reluctantly rise from the couch, making my way towards the door. I pull it open, not at all surprised to find Elise standing there, looking as perky and perfect as ever.

She is wearing a short jean skirt, and her faultless, mocha skin is glittering in the sun. I watch as she smiles at me in surprise. What the hell is up with her today?

"Hey, Chloe," she greets, sweetly. "Can I come in?"

I place my hand on my hip. "Elise—you do know that Justin isn't home right now, don't you?" I ask, carefully. I want to go back to my television show. "Sorry. I'll tell Chris to let him know you came by."

Just as I'm about to shut the door, her voice stops me. "Wait. I didn't come here to see Justin. I came here to see you," she explains, quickly.

My eyes land on hers curiously. I don't understand why the hell she would be here to see me? We've never even had a decent conversation together, let alone made visits to each other's houses to see one another. "Am I missing something?" I ask, bewildered.

"Can I come in?" she urges. "It's kinda hot out here."

I oblige, opening the door a little wider so that she can enter. I close it and allow her to follow me into the living room, where we both take a seat before I finally open up my curious mouth again. "So…"

"Listen," Elise blurts out. "I know what you're thinking. And yes—I am here for a reason. I just don't exactly know the best way to put this to you is all."

I twist my face in confusion, slowly nodding my head up and down. "Um…okay."

Elise takes a deep breath and finally announces, "I found out that Justin cheated on me."

Her voice sounds hurt, and I can't help but want to roll my eyes at her. I mean, what did she expect from an asshole like that? I also can't help but wonder why she is sharing this news with me of all people?

As I'm contemplating these things, she continues on with her confession—or whatever it is. "He thinks I don’t know, but I have my sources. I noticed something that I thought was strange the other day. And please tell me the truth about this, Chloe. I know we're not great friends…"

Not even friends, more like it.

"But, listen, I won't be angry if it's true…just…"

"What?"

She pauses, opening up her mouth and then closing it. Finally, she cautiously asks, "Are you and Justin…well, you know…involved?"

"God, no!" I immediately exclaim, disgusted by even the suggestion of it. "I don’t know where you would get that idea from. Never, ever will that happen," I explain with a shudder.

I watch as she looks at her fingernails and then gives me a nervous smile. "Actually—I was kind of hoping maybe it could happen."

What? Rewind. Did I just hear her correctly? I know she did not just say she wanted Justin and I—I can't even say it for fear of vomiting but—did she just say what I think she just said?

"Chloe. I need you to do me a huge favor. And I want you to know that if you accept my offer, I will pay you a generous amount for your help."

She did. I'm in shock. Elise-fucking-rich-ass-Johnson wants my help? What could I possibly do for her that she would actually pay me for?

"I'm lost," I reply, slowly.

Elise gives me an encouraging smile—Lord, I haven't seen the girl be so nice since the day I first met her—and nods at me. "Listen, here's the deal, alright? You're the first girl I've seen that doesn't fall for his charms, you know? I really admire you and the way that you stand up to him all the time…"

In a strange way, I'm kind of flattered by her words. But—once again—what the hell? I tentatively listen as she continues talking to me.

"Justin cheated on me, and I want him to realize that he can't get away with screwing girls over like that. You know, it's like my Daddy once said—'Elise, never let a man walk all over you'—"

I give her a strange look as she continues on with her chatting, and she laughs, nervously tossing her hair back. "Sorry—I kind of went off subject there. But anyways, what I'm trying to get at is this. You remember when I came over, and you and Chris were together? Well, I was so mad because Justin seemed to be so jealous of you two or something and not even caring about me. This was of course before I realized about his indiscretions..."

"Elise. I'm telling you. Justin and I…we are nothing. I hate him," I assure, once again. Obviously she is missing this huge detail somehow or another.

"I know that now! And that's what makes it so perfect. You hate him, but he clearly doesn't hate you!" she explains, smiling at me widely like she has just discovered a new planet or something.

"I honestly don't know where you're getting that idea, but…what is it exactly that you want from me?" I finally ask, hesitantly. All of this seems to be going nowhere, but I mean she did say that she would pay…I know, I know. That's horrible of me. But God—I could desperately use some money for my tuition, my bills…

Elise takes a deep breath and folds her hands together on top of her lap. "I want you to make him fall for you, Chloe. And hard. And when he does…I want you to crush him. I want you to make him feel miserable. I want him to feel like I did when I found out about what he did to me."

The fire in her eyes is scary, and I almost feel sorry for the girl. I'm also kind of questioning her stability here…is this normal behavior of an ex-girlfriend? Oh well, anyone stupid enough to fall for the charms of Justin Timberlake deserves some kind of pity, right?

I still don't get it though. "What makes you think that I'm the girl to do this? I'm telling you Elise, Justin hates me as much as I hate him. He's not going to fall in love with me—he doesn't even have a heart," I argue, sensibly.

Elise shakes her head, seemingly annoyed and frustrated with my response. "I saw the way he looked at you and Chris yesterday. Please, trust me with this. I'm sure if you just…changed up your style a bit…he would be all over you. I mean you're a pretty girl…" she trails off.

I don't know if that’s an insult or a compliment, but I'll take is as the latter since she's being decent to me right now. I cannot believe I’m actually thinking about going through with this. What is wrong with me?

"Okay…suppose he does…end up liking me a whole lot. What exactly do I have to do to him here?"

She gives me a pleased smile. "Like I said, you crush him. Cheat on him. Betray him. Kick him to the curb. I don't care. Just do whatever it takes to get the job done."

I bite my lip and think about this for a moment. She keeps on telling to me to crush him. But I've never done that before—I don't know how to intentionally go about crushing a man? That's so cold and heartless. I couldn't possibly do it—I mean it would just be wrong on so many different levels.

I think Elise is sensing my hesitation because she's beginning to push harder now. "You said so yourself. You hate him. He's heartless. So what is there to lose? Please…I'm willing to pay you for this," she adds, a touch of desperation in her voice.

"How much?" I finally ask, my mouth betraying my conscience.

I mean—it is Justin, after all. It's not like I would be doing this to some sweet guy who didn't deserve it. I can only imagine how many hearts that stupid boy has toyed with. And maybe Elise is right; maybe he does deserve a taste of his own medicine. I just don't think she's right about me being the one to give him that taste.

So why do I find myself accepting her offer anyways?


***

{Justin}

Alright. So I've just realized two things:

A) Since the three months that Chloe has transferred here and moved in with us, I really can't think of one fact that I know about her and/or her life. (Besides the fact that she is a major bitch, of course.)

B) I haven't been in her room since Chris last lived in it. (Before she came along, it was his room. It's the master bedroom in our three-bedroom apartment, and when she moved in, he insisted on some stupid shit about her needing to have her own bathroom since she's the only girl here.)

Anyway—I've come up with a plan. Of course it's a very bad, intrusive plan, and my conscience is of course warning me away from even going through with it. Plus, I just know something is bound to go wrong with this. But man, I need some sort of start here, and I also think this could possibly be my push in the right direction.

Chloe isn't home. I have no idea when she will be home, either. But she's been gone for a good two hours now, so hopefully it will stay that way.

Yup. That's it. I'm doing the plan.

Okay. I'm hesitantly reaching my hand out towards her doorknob now. I enter and then carefully shut the door behind me, though no on else is even in the house right now, so it doesn't really matter.

My eyes are scanning the room curiously. Yeah. This girl is a damn neat freak. I know she always likes the kitchen to be clean (I've gotten one too many of her lectures on 'getting up off of my lazy ass and doing my own dishes for once' from her to not know this), but wow…this is clean.

In contrast to all of the clothes that are scattered all over my floor and bed, hers are all hanging neatly in the closet that I just took a quick glance inside of. She has got a white desk in the corner of the room, and her laptop is resting there comfortably, along with a nice, neat stack of mail and two textbooks.

I sift through the envelopes, only to find a few bills and an unopened letter. I'm tempted to open it up and read it, but that might really get me into some major trouble with her. Normally, this wouldn't dissuade me. But I'm trying to get on her good side as of now.

Onto her CD collection. Hmm. I'm a little iffy about some of the shit she's got. Sarah Mclachlan? Beth Orton? No, no. I'll admit she has got a few good ones though. Seems like she likes R&B, a little rap, and the other unexpected genres here and there.

I am walking to her bathroom now. And once again, it's shiny and clean. Damn. No wonder she has no social life…other than Chris and school. She spends all her time alphabetically arranging her large collection of hair products. Yup, John Frieda, which comes after the Biosilk might I add, are her best buddies.

There is a bag from Sephora on her closed toilet seat. Just a bunch of unopened, boring makeup shit inside here. Ohh—some lip gloss...yeah I'll be tasting that soon—don't worry.

Wait. Did I just hear footsteps? I drop the lip gloss back into the bag and hold still for a second. Good—false alarm—I don't hear anything else. My paranoia is just getting the best of me.

Alright. Time to go back into the room again. I'm feeling like one of those people from that stupid show Room Raiders on MTV right about now. Only I don't have a spy kit. Yes. I'm pathetic.

After I spend about ten more minutes looking through all of her shit, I am coming up with a few thoughts. Okay. So here's the thorough, Justin Timberlake analysis of Chloe Marin as of now:

She cleans too much.
Wears Chanel No. 5.
Takes yoga and some sort of dance class.
Likes butterflies.
Has too many pairs of jeans.
Likes to read.
She's got a little sister.
Her ex-boyfriend is a sappy idiot.
Likes Cosmopolitan magazines.

What else do I need? Oh. Yes, I know. Must get the bra size. And then I'm out of here. I am opening up the first drawer of her dresser right now. And heck yeah, here we go…

She has got sexy underwear. Let's add that to my list. Though it's such a shame that this all goes to waste, considering she seems to be the biggest prude I ever met. I'm going to have to change that. Ahah, and finally, she is a 34 B…not exactly impressive, but it's not a huge disappointment either, I guess.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Someone is turning the door handle. Why didn't I hear the footsteps this time?

Damn it. This sucks.

I've been caught. Red-handed. Inside the panty drawer.

{Chloe}

I'm trying not to freak. I'm trying not to freak. But? I'm going to freak. I’m going to kick his ugly, white ass is what I’m going to do. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask, my voice as cold as ice.

The stupid bastard. He's just standing there with this ridiculously stupid and guilty look on his face. He's still touching my underwear! Pervert. "Hello! Why the hell are you in my room?" I demand once again.

He has put down my stuff, and he's now holding his hands up in the air innocently. What is that? Some lame attempt of surrender? God, he's an idiot. "I um…Elise left her stuff over, and I thought maybe…"

"Don't even finish that," I immediately interrupt. I’m disgusted. I don't want to know about his sex life. I already know the bottom line: he's a promiscuous slut. And to think—I'm supposed to seduce this man. Or whatever I’m supposed to do to him.

The deal with Elise is still on. And though I'm probably not going to get him to fall for me by being my normally bitchy self, I really don't care much. I've thought long and hard about all of this, and I'm not going to lower my standards by sucking up to him and accepting his disgusting ways as most girls do for him. I just won't.

I mean, all right—maybe I'll try a little bit, but overall, if it doesn't work out—then oh well. Elise and I will just have to end our deal. Most likely, that is what is going to end up happening anyways.

In the midst of all my overanalyzing, I slowly begin to make my way towards my drawer. Once I have thrown down a sufficient amount of my undergarments onto the floor, I look over at him, annoyed because I can feel his stare on me. "Is there any particular reason that you're still in my room?" I snap at him.

Oh hell no. He's doing it…he's licking his dammed lips. I hate when he does this. It's like some sort of god-awful habit of his. I see him doing it at least eighty times a day, and it has always bugged the crap outta me, ever since I first met him. It just goes to show that he's a cocky bastard that thinks women can never bring their attention away from his mouth. Loser.

"What are you doing?" he asks, perplexed. "Why are you throwing all that onto the ground?"

Okay. First of all, I know Justin-the-ass-Timberlake is not trying to have a conversation with me…or is he? And secondly, it's none of his damn business. I answer him anyway. "Who knows where your hands have been."

"What?!" Justin exclaims, insulted.

I've offended him…boo-hoo. "You heard me. I'm washing whatever you may have touched because God only knows where your hands have been."

I'm not looking at him as I speak, but I can hear him mumbling and counting to ten under his breath. He really is a strange human being. I don't know why he's even in here still; it's actually quite weird, I don't think he's ever been in here before, until now.

"You're a neat freak, you know that?" he finally announces.

My gaze turns to him and I look into his blue eyes, annoyed at his proclamation. If he still had his curls and hadn't buzzed his big, fat, inflated head…well, I would have liked to rip them out right about now. (Yeah, it's not exactly the most effective way to get a man to fall in love with you…but oh well).

"As opposed to what exactly? A slob such as yourself?" I ponder. And…wow…he's laughing at me. I just insulted him, and he's laughing? This is new. "Is there something amusing about you being dirty?"

He chuckles for a few more seconds before crossing his arms over his chest and looking at me…weirdly. I mean, he's looking at me, but it's in this different way than he ever has before. I feel my skin start to crawl under his gaze, as chills run up and down my spine. Eww—what is his problem?

"So…is it hot in here, or is it just you?" he suddenly asks, casually.

I swear—I think he's on drugs or something. I cannot believe that Elise may have been right—no way. And no he did not just use that lame ass pick-up line on me. "Justin…get out…now."

"But what if I want to stay?"

Argh. He's licking his lips again. "I don’t care what you want."

"But I need directions," he argues.

I roll my eyes at him and slam my drawer shut with a huff. "I don’t know why the hell you're suddenly so into talking to me, but you've lived here longer than I have, so I'm pretty sure I won't be able to give you any type of directions."

"I bet you can."

I hate him. I know I mention this a lot, but he really, really grates on my nerves. I just can't stand him. And will he leave already? He is not cute. Not cute at all. "Fine! If I try to help you, then will you leave?"

I watch as he scratches his chin and then gives me a little lop-sided grin...another thing that bugs the hell outta me. I don’t know why, but I just can't stand his crooked, smug smile. I hate how his mouth curves up and…

"Maybe."

"Where do you need directions to?" I finally ask, rolling my eyes at him in exasperation. I don't know how many times I roll my eyes at this boy per day, but it's a lot.

If at all possible, his smile grows even bigger, as he points in my general direction and says, "I thought you'd never ask. I need directions…to your heart, baby."

Oh my God. This is sick. He is no Casanova, regardless of what he may think. And not only is he flirting with me, but also he's flirting with me in the most pitiful, lame way ever. He probably hides a book, "The Most Stupid and Pathetic Pick-Up Lines Ever" under his bed or something.

This time I take matters into my own hands as I walk over and grab onto his arm, (ick…normally I don’t like to touch the man), and throw him outside of my door.

He barely begins his protests before I am slamming it shut right in front of his face.


***

{Justin}

Well…that went well.

All right—so I know I just got kicked out of her room and all, but hey—what can a guy expect? I got caught in there, and I came up with a good enough excuse, I guess. Plus, I saw her little smirk when I flirted with her. She liked it; all women like it when you lay on the charm.

And hey. Y'all can't be hating on my lines either. So they're a little overused and cheesy—girls like them anyways. Though, Chloe didn't seem to like them that much. What a frickin' hag…she's so damn uptight.

But oh well. I knew she was gonna be a challenge when I took her on.

And I sort of like that. Really...this is kind of getting fun already. I never much noticed it before, but her feistiness is sort of sexy. It makes me want to grab her and makeout with her, (just so she'll shut up, and I don't have to listen to her yap away in that rude way of hers, of course).

But yeah. Overall, I think my mission went over pretty all right. And damn, I cannot wait to see her in some of those little numbers she had in that drawer.

Hey... don’t make that face. You know you're a pervert, too.


***

{Chloe}

Elise is over and she's raiding through my closet as I sit here painting my fingernails. It's really weird having her over like this. I wonder what Justin would think if he knew she was here right now.

Speaking of the devil, that little stunt that he pulled yesterday was not endearing. I really don’t know what's up with him, but all of a sudden it's like I can sort of see what Elise is talking about when she says that Justin is interested in me.

Now I know that's a ludicrous idea, and I honestly can't believe that whole-heartedly…but it's so bizarre. The way he looks at me all of a sudden—and the way he will smile at me—he never smiled at me before. He never even decently talked to me before. It's freaky. And I know his arrogant ass probably thinks I'm enjoying his lame flirting, but he couldn't be further from the truth if he even tried.

All right. So I know I'm being a bit dramatic here. I mean, Justin is an asshole and he's bigheaded, but I can admit that's he not the…ugliest thing on the planet. And that's a compliment coming from me, because I hate to say anything even remotely proper about the boy. I guess I really need to work on that, though, because I have to at least act like I can stand him if I'm ever gonna get him to like me. You know, I didn't think…

"Okay, girl. We really gotta get rid of all this denim. I mean, yeah, you have some cute pairs of jeans and all…but do you really need so many? And where are the skirts? The small tops?"

I roll my eyes as I screw the cap back onto my clear nail polish, gazing at my interruption. "I like to dress casual."

"I see that," Elise says, rolling her eyes back at me. "But listen. I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but Justin goes for more of the…"

"Slutty type?" I offer, smiling. Oh…oops. I always have been the type of person that blurts something out before thinking…and that probably wasn't the nicest way of wording things, considering she's his ex…

"Exactly!" Elise exclaims, smirking. "I mean…I wouldn't call it slutty…just…more revealing..."

Wow. Just wow.

"Seriously…I don’t have the body for that type of stuff. And besides, I already told you this isn't gonna work out. Justin is never gonna fall for me—little clothing or not," I reason.

"Are you kidding!" she exclaims, again.

No, bitch, I’m not kidding.

"There's nothing wrong with you," she admonishes, flipping her hair back and smacking her gum. She stares at me for a few seconds before smiling widely. "Gosh—this is gonna be so fun! I love make-overs!"

"What?" I ask, standing up carefully. "You are not giving me a make-over, Elise! I don’t know why you're so dead-set on this whole Justin thing…"

"Yes, I am!" she insists, grabbing onto my arm and dragging me towards my bathroom. "It'll be fun. I love this kind of thing, and besides…after you do this for me…well, I just consider you a good friend now."

Oh God. In some sort of sick way, I feel flattered by her. Really, I don't usually hang out with…her type; I've always been the one to get along better with guys than girls. (Ha, and I know what you're thinking, but no, Justin doesn't count in that.) So anyways, it's kind of interesting that she wants to befriend me, you know?

"What do you mean, a 'make-over'? What's wrong with me?" I ask, reluctantly. (I seem to be asking myself this a lot lately.)

"Nothing is wrong with you!" Elise replies, happily. "Just consider it as a step closer to the new and improved you," she adds, positively.

She's so damn bubbly. Such a 'Justin-type' of girl. I'm not a 'Justin-type' of girl. And I don't think a make-over and a whatever else she wants to do is going to change that.

But what the hell?


***

{Justin}

Darnell laughs at Trace as he informs him of 'the bet' and then he shakes his head at me. "You're pretty dumb, man."

"Why?" I ask, indignantly. "I'm gonna get into that girl's pants, no problem."

"Right," Darnell says. "Chloe Marin isn't the type of girl to just go and fuck anyone, bro."

I grin. "I know that…and I don't care. I'm still gonna get her."

"You're not gonna get her," Trace argues. "But let him think what he wants, eh?"

Damn…she's coming. Really, we shouldn't be talkin' about this shit when she lives here. Who knows what she could hear on accident? I'm gonna have to talk to them about that—people can't be starting to find out about this bet. Especially not Chris, he's way too damn protective of her, and he'd probably beat my ass if he knew about it.

"Shut up…" I warn, quietly.

They both close their mouths, and we all innocently watch as she enters the room. She casually passes us by, heading for the kitchen I suppose. The guys both snicker at the way she rolls her eyes at me on her way.

"It's only 'cause she wants me," I say, causing them to snicker more.

About a minute and a half later, Chloe comes strolling out again, her face contorted in anger. Shoot…I'm trying to think of what I did wrong as she calls out my name, "Justin?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"First of all—don’t call me baby," she orders, causing more laughter from Trace and Darnell of course. "And second of all, you know that milk I brought home the other day?"

"Uhh—yeah?" I nod, not really knowing.

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes at me. "Apparently, you do, because you drank it all! And don't even try to say it was Chris—you're the only idiot that puts a drink back in the fridge when it has less than a drop left."

Darnell throws a pillow at me from the couch and chuckles. "Damn, J! How you gonna do your girl like that?"

"Please," Chloe scoffs, obviously disgusted at the insinuation of being labeled 'my girl'.

I roll my eyes. I can't exactly tell her off 'cause of the whole bet thing, but damn. I'm not gonna let her play me in front of my boys like this. Hell no. "Listen, woman—if you need more milk, then use your legs and go get some more."

Oops. That wasn't nice of me, was it?

"Darnell?" Chloe asks, ignoring me, her voice all sweet and shit now. She doesn't talk to me like that. "Do you think you could take me to the store since your friend is such a jerk?"

"Hey...what are you doin'?" I quickly demand, watching as Darnell suddenly begins to get up from his seat. He's not taking 'my girl' anywhere, damn it.

"I'm taking shorty to the store," he explains, smiling at her instead of looking at my pissed off face.

Fuck, and she's smiling back at him, too.

I hate my friends.

{Chloe}

You can imagine my annoyance as I hear a light knock on my bedroom door, interrupting my studies. I glance up and call out to the offender. "Yeah…what?"

Seconds later, his head hesitantly pops inside and he gives me a little smile. I'm in no mood to deal with Justin tonight. We've managed to stay away from arguing for about a good four days now, and that's mostly because I've been working and studying like crazy lately.

Of course, I'm in no way building any progress at my deal with Elise just yet, but hey, I'm gonna make some attempts at it any day now…

"Um…what do you want?" I question, suspiciously, taking my reading glasses off and rubbing at my tired face.

"Mind if I come in?"

I roll my eyes and nod at him with reluctance. "Fine. Considering you've taken it upon yourself to trespass before, I suppose I should be grateful that you're actually asking for an invite this time."

Justin's face twists into confusion and I can't help but roll my eyes at him—yet again—geez, he is dense. "Anyways," I drawl out, agitatedly. "Are you gonna just stand there and stare, or does this visit hold a purpose?"

"Well," he says, crossing his arms over his chest in the process, "I actually wanted to—um, well—err—"

I'm not usually this mean to everyone, I swear. But damn—it's just Justin for God's sake. I can't help myself. "Just spit it out already."

"Vivian Green?" he suddenly asks, taking a different approach. "I mean…you like her, right?"

Initially I'm wondering this: how does he know that I like Vivian Green? And secondly I'm wondering this: why is he asking if I like her? I know he's up to something, something evil, probably. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Honestly?"

How many times do I have to mention the fact that he's an idiot? "No, lie to me," I answer him, sardonically.

His mouth curves up into a smile, and he shakes his head to himself. He's not even overreacting at all. I don't get it. He's calm—he's not making snide remarks back. This is really getting me even more suspicious of him right now. My guard is up, that's for damn well sure.

I watch as he then squirms in what I guess is discomfort, scratching at the back of his neck and idly running his hand over the top of his buzzed head. "Um, well…the thing is…I have these tickets and…"

"And your point is?" I interrupt him, boorishly.

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"Finish!"

"Listen, I ain't tryin' start a fight with you, I just—I've got tickets to her show this Saturday night, and I wanna know if you'd want to come with me, alright?" he finally spits out at me.

And holy mother of God. You know how when you suddenly find out about something that you never knew before, and then all of the sudden it starts popping out at you in your life from out of nowhere? Okay—so maybe that didn’t make entirely too much sense, but what my point happens to be is that ever since this whole deal with Elise came on, it's like Justin is all of a sudden taking this strange interest in me.

I just don’t get it. How did Elise know this was coming? Is this a trick or something? I mean she doesn't have any motives to trick me though. And she's so adamant about me 'crushing' Justin…I just don't get why he's being somewhat cooperative in my whole quest at getting him to like me. I guess I shouldn't be complaining though, this makes it easier on me, and…

"So—is that a no?" he asks, breaking the silence and my train of thought as well.

Shit. Yes, it is. I want to say no. I want to say no. But—I shouldn't say no. I have to say yes. This is a good start for me—for my 'job' with Elise. Say yes…I have to say yes. "Uh—not exactly? I mean...I don't get it, Justin. Why the sudden change of heart? Why are you being nice to me?" I ask, suspiciously, sort of desperate for some kind of explanation.

He's licking his lips; surprise, surprise. Gosh. He's annoying. But he's being nice. I'm so overwhelmed…overwhelmed and confused.

"I was just…I just kinda wanna call a truce between us," he admits, finally. "I mean, I've been thinking about this, and we have to live together for now, and I just thought this would be a good way to break the ice. And I was hoping you would want to see Vivian. The tickets seemed like a good idea at the time, but if you don't wanna go then…"

"No!" I find myself saying, rather hastily…too hastily. "I—I'll go," I say, though I'm cringing profusely as I do so.

Justin immediately grins at me, his eyes sparkling happily. "Awesome. And I guess you were studying, and I should let you get back to that, huh buddy?" he asks, brightly.

Oh God. He called me 'buddy'. I am not his damn buddy. "Yeah. Whatever." I say, rolling my eyes. I can't handle this chumminess with him for too long.

And I swear…I'm baffled right now. But I have to do this. I gotta keep reminding myself that because I'm definitely weary of this whole situation. I in no way, shape, or form trust Justin Timberlake; whether he's inviting me to a concert and calling a truce or not.

"Alright, that's fine. So can I get a hug before I go?" he requests, wiggling his eyebrows. "Just for symbolic reasons, of course."

"Don't push your luck. I'm already going out with you, remember?"

Justin nods with a salute. "Yes, whatever you say, Rella."

What the fuck? I seriously question his dammed mind sometimes. And gosh, I wish he'd just leave already. "Excuse me? Rella?"

"Yeah…you know," he smugly grins, gesturing at me with hands, suddenly singing in explanation, "Cruella de Ville, Cruella de Ville, if she doesn't scare you…no evil thing will…to see her is to take a sudden chill…"

Oh, the stupid, stupid bastard! He's calling me after a fuckin' ugly white and black haired, fur abusing heifer from a Disney movie. And he's not even saying her name right! Who the hell gets Rella from Cruella? Only someone as dumb and unoriginal as Justin, that's who. And besides the fact that his voice is half ways decent, I'm about ready to smack him one, as he continues on with his song cheerfully…

"...the world was such a wholesome place until…"

"Leave! Now!" I finally demand, forcefully. His singing is still going strong, and so I'm now reaching over for something to throw at him. I chuck a magazine towards his big head, and I unfortunately miss as he hurriedly runs out the door, boastfully calling to me over his shoulder as he does so. "Later, Rella!"

His moronic, loud chuckling ensues that statement.


***


Argh…so today is the 'big' day. My outing with Justin is supposed to take place tonight, and I am so dreading it. (Besides the fact that I get to see Vivian in a live setting, of course).

Elise is opening her door and she has a wide smile on her face as she greets me. "Eek! I'm so excited, Chlo. I mean…I didn't think you'd be able to pull a date off with him this quickly!"

"Gee, thanks," I roll my eyes, allowing her to usher me inside.

"I meant that in a nice way though!" she insists, cheerily. "And oh my gosh! This is gonna be the perfect time for you to show off the whole make-over thing we've been working on lately! It will be in full force tonight…Justin isn't gonna know what hits him when you step out for this date…"

"It's not a date," I reply, annoyed. "God help me, the only reason I agreed to go with him was because of our deal, Elise. I hope you know the trauma this is putting me through. Honestly."

"Oh please," she hushes me with a hand. "Don't be so dramatic. Justin is taking you out on a date, and he is going to act like the perfect, little gentlemen coming into your life tonight. He's done it to the best of us honey."

Elise and I are slowly but surely becoming friends now, and surprisingly enough, I actually find myself enjoying our little banter filled conversations. But this is just ridiculous talk now. "Whatever…it's not a date," I repeat, weakly. "And what are you gonna do to me exactly?"

"Well—there's your hair. And I already picked out a killer outfit for you tonight and your makeup…"

"I know how to do my own makeup, thank you very much," I quickly interrupt her, only mildly offended.

"Chloe," Elise chastises me, once again. "What would be the fun in that?"


***

{Justin}

I'm on a date.

I’m on a date, and it's with Chloe.

Ha…and you thought I didn't have any game.

Granted the evening has been a little rocky as of yet—but if I do say so myself—things are still off to a pretty okay start. We're currently sitting side-by-side on the L, takin' our asses to the Loop so that we can have ourselves a grand ole time together.

Heh.

My eyes drift away from the empty seat I've been idly staring at for the past five minutes, and I carefully take a sideways glance at her. Now let me just tell you, Chloe has never been one that I would label as 'ugly' or anything such…but she's never really been so fine as she is tonight, either. I mean, usually she's not all dolled up and shit like this is what I mean, I guess.

So basically, my point is that she's lookin' hot, and whether or not it's cocky and presumptuous to presume so, she's lookin' hot for me 'cause it's on the night of our date. Our date…how I'd love to laugh in Trace's face right about now. That can wait till later though.

"So…you excited for the concert?" I abruptly ask, breaking the silence between us.

She looks at me and shrugs. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" I frown. "I thought you liked her."

"I do," she answers, carefully, and then sighs. "I mean—yeah, I'm really excited. I don’t really understand why you've invited me, but—"

"I invited you 'cause I wanted to," I respond, casually.

Her mouth just goes into an 'o,' and then the silence once again ensues between us. My eyes resume their drifting, and I manage to keep them off of her for about a few good seconds before they finally are back onto her again. She's looking straight ahead, and I think she's pretending that she can't feel my stare. Which is fine by me.

Her hair is actually down tonight, instead of up like she usually wears it, and it looks all shiny and soft. I wanna reach out and touch it, but I think she might try to attack if I did that. Really, she's not wearing anything all that revealing either—the weather outside is pretty chilly, so I suppose that's appropriate—but her gray coat is closed tightly around her, and it's starting to make me wonder what's underneath.

Hopefully I'll get to see. I wouldn't mind seein' what's under those jeans, either, but hey—even I can admit that I'm probably getting a little to ahead of myself with that one. Chloe isn't in any way easy—and you can interpret that how you please.

Once again, I attempt to break the non-verbal action we got going on. Not that I'm really complaining, 'cause at least we ain't at each other's throats yet. "Have I mentioned to you that you look gorgeous tonight?" I inquire, charmingly.

She shifts in her seat and then smoothes her hair out before touching at her ear. "Um, yeah. Thanks. You look…okay."

"Pssh…just okay?" I ask, giving her a pout.

Wow—and is that a smile I see on her face? Have I, Justin Timberlake, made Chloe Marin crack a smile at me? This is major progress here, folks. And with this suddenly newfound encouragement, I boldly poke at her side, prying at her again. "Only okay?"

"Pretty much," she confirms, a hint of amusement in her voice.

This is actually quite the surprise. Who would of thought it? Chloe can actually flirt…in a completely cynical and hard-to-get type of way of course, but at least she's flirting with me, eh?

"So what do you wanna eat?" I ask, changing the subject. "I'm kind of thinking pizza."

"Whatever."

"Great, pizza it is," I reply, cheerily. I'll just have to keep up the good mood for the both us right now. "You know, you should really wear your hair like that more often," I add, sweetly, and this time I don't resist the urge to touch it either.

She immediately pulls away though, as I somewhat suspected she would. "Keep your hands to yourself, please."

An old bag nearby sort of chuckles at that, obviously eavesdropping in on our conversation, and I quickly shoot him a dirty look before excusing myself to her. "Sorry about that. You're just…"

My sentence trails off and kind of just lingers in the air for a bit after that. I guess this bugs her though, because she finally asks me, "I'm just what?"

"Irresistible?"

Chloe rolls her eyes, looking at me accusingly. "Oh God, would you please cut it out with the wannabe cute one-liners? They may work on some of your other…they don't flatter me and I don't appreciate them," she finishes off, at last.

Once again, the old jerk-off chuckles at us, and I roll my eyes too, wiping my palms against my pants with an exasperated sigh. "Sheesh—you don’t have to bite my head off about it. I was just joking, you know? You shouldn't take everything so seriously—I was just trying to play with you."

"Right…this is our stop," she concludes, ignoring me and getting up with most of the others that have joined in on our ride. I obediently follow, the cool Chicago air hitting at my skin as we exit the train.

Chloe shivers a little and just I as reach my hand out to rub at her arms or something, she briskly starts walking forward, mumbling for me to keep my distance.

Rawr. I love it when she plays hard to get.


***


Things have quickly started to heat up again, and as Chloe pries her coat off, I can't help but stare at the vast expanse of skin that is now being revealed to my appreciative self. I've never, ever seen anything so small and showy on this woman, and it's a really good surprise that I am getting to experience right now.

Women have the sexiest backsides ever. Guys have ugly ones, but that place on a girl where their lower back starts to dip in is so dammed good. And Chloe only has a few strings tying her top in the back, and her jeans are nice and low and she's even got this little tattoo. I can't believe she has one…it's nice…very nice…

"We should probably sit now, Justin," she suggests, quietly. I almost don’t hear her over the loud chatter and the band that's playing at the stage, but I mange to somehow. I quickly nod in agreement, distractedly pulling out a chair for her. (I may be a jerk at times, but my momma taught me well enough to practice some chivalry.)

"You're right, Rella," I agree, finally taking my seat besides her.

"Stop calling me that," she hisses at me.

I smile. "Why? That's who you remind me of."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," I argue. "C'mon, Rella…you know I’m only kidding with you."

"Why are we doing this?"

"Doing what?" I ask, quizzically. I don't know what she's talking about.

"Really, Justin. Why did you invite me here? And why are you all of a sudden wanting to…be my friend?"

Damn, she is so frickin' caught up on this question, isn't she? And ah—if only she knew, if only she knew. I want to be much more than her friend, that's for sure. Friends with benefits if you will. Wink, wink. "Listen, I told you, I just want to get on good terms, you know? And I didn't have anyone else to take anyways."

"Yeah right, you're…"

The lights are dimming now and the crowd is getting loud with applause. "Shh…it's time for Viv," I interrupt her, excitedly.


***

{Chloe}

My heels are clanking against the cement, and I think my feet are just about ready to die of exhaustion. I don't usually wear these fucking types of shoes. They are uncomfortable, regardless of whether or not they are cute. Bitterly, Elise's annoying little mantra pops into my head, 'pain is beauty...pain is beauty'.

Fuck beauty.

"Okay. So tell me what you thought!" Justin suddenly pries, much too energetically for my taste might I add. "I mean, I sort of watched you a few times, and you looked like you were having fun…but did you like it? I thought she was awesome."

"Yeah…she was amazing," I admit, quietly. We stop a street corner and wait for it to clear before we can cross. "I loved all the songs she did."

"So you had a good time?" he prods me again.

"Yes. I'm just kinda of tired, or I might be a little more…"

My feet suddenly halt in their movements, and we end up stopping right at the next corner of the street, as we have just bridged the gap between the two of them. I look down at our suddenly connected hands, and I can literally feel my stomach turn with nausea. I swear this whole night is surreal…and just plain old weird. But I can't really pull away exactly, now can I?

To give Justin a smidgen of credit, he hasn't been completely obnoxious tonight. I don’t know—maybe he's changed or something. And plus, I have to let him hold my hand because of this stupid Elise arrangement. It's just because of that though. Otherwise, I wouldn't allow it.

Shaking my head, I quickly glance up into his blue eyes, which are staring at me curiously. Like he doesn't know what he's done. "Erm…anyways," I say, immediately starting up on our trek again. "She's an amazing performer."

The whole rest of the way home is pretty boring and during the ride back, I almost find myself dozing off. It's been a long day—and this whole Justin situation has completely drained my head out. I'm too exhausted to deal with much more tonight.

"Rella?" Justin asks, nudging my shoulder.

"What?" I groan. His voice is so damn annoying to me.

"Are you falling asleep?"

"No, of course not," I retort, glancing at him with an aggravated expression.

He smiles at me—the stupid lop-sided grin smile—and he even has the nerve to wink, too. "Oh, that's good to hear. I'd hate for you to fall asleep before the real fun begins."

"Excuse me?"

"Erm, nothing. I was just saying…"

"You know what? That's it! I'm tired of trying to be nice to your ass," I suddenly snap. Blame it on my lack of sleep, but I just can't handle this anymore. "If you think that you can just fuck around with me and take me to some concert so that you can get laid, then you can just forget it! I'm not one of your normal little sluts that you can just buy off and pretend to be all charming with, when in reality you're just a…"

A few people are looking at us now, and Justin's face looks admittedly pissed. I think he's not gonna be so friendly anymore for the night. "You're such a bitch," he hisses at me, under his breath. "I don't know why I waste my time with you."

"Didn't ask you to, now did I?"

He says nothing in answer and for that I'm sort of grateful. We've already caused quite the scene already.


***


Chris looks on in surprise as we both come stalking in the door, Justin mumbling a few choice words under his breath at me. After we got off the train, we spent the rest of the way home arguing again. He's such a damn prick. I seriously retract any of the decent things I've said or thought about him tonight.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," I growl at him, as he skids past me and goes for his room, conveniently bumping into me on the way.

"Umm…" Chris asks, questioningly. He's on the couch and I just roll my eyes at him as I too, head for my own room.

"Justin?" he calls out in another attempt.

"Not now, Chris."

He slams his door shut and I quickly do the same with mine, not at all in the mood for his shit. The whole night was going fine until he had to come out with his crude, little comment about getting me into bed. Just goes to show that he is a one-tracked minded pervert. And I can't stand the guy.

Suddenly, his ugly mug is right back in my view though, as he comes stalking through my doorway. "What the fuck? Do you not know how to knock?"

He holds his hand out and rolls his eyes at me. "Shut your damn trap, I'm just returning the phone you left on the table. Which—mind you—you wouldn't have noticed you were gonna leave had I not picked it up for you."

"Great! You've returned it, and you can leave now."

"Gladly," he spits out, stridently slamming the door behind his retreating form.

I'm so mad, angry, pissed off, and way beyond my rational thinking that I quickly follow in his same path, me ending up as the intruder this time. "Who the hell do you think you are? Don't ever slam my door like that again!" I yell at him. And with that said—I do the really mature thing, the thing that any other human being in my situation would do—I slam his damn door shut.

Yeah. Right back at ya asshole.

As I enter into my own room again, I quickly press the 'play' button on my stereo and let the mellifluous, soulful voice of Vivian Green drift into the air. I had the CD in already because I'd been listening to it in anticipation of the concert.

As one of my favorites, track number eight to be precise, comes to an ending I shift on my bed, quite irritably. The lyrics continue to penetrate my tired brain.

Now I see, I must first love me
And maybe Mr. Right will come strolling along

Ha—like that'll ever happen.

In the meantime though, I have my schmuck of a roommate next door to deal with.

{Chloe}

So I think I've officially recovered from my endurance of the date-from-hell that I had last night. It's morning now, and I feel calmer and much less angry. Of course, that's not to get it twisted because I still do very much hate the bastard. I'm just not angry about it anymore.

I'm on to bigger and better things now--specifically--my chores. I'm actually cleaning out my closet, getting ready to start a load of laundry. It really is a blessing that Chris owns a washer and dryer because this conveniently provides that I don't have to make visits to the laundry mat. And this is especially nice since I go through clothes like Justin goes through hoes. Heh. (And in case you haven't realized, I'm not only trying to rhyme, but that's also another means of me explaining to you that I have a lot of stuff to wash usually.)

When I finally make it to the laundry machines, I am beyond annoyed, as I end up finding his clothes still inside of the washer. It looks as if he's ran his load and had them cleaned; yet he didn't take the time out of his pathetic life to stick them into the dryer. Why am I not surprised? Justin is probably the sloppiest, filthiest pig of them all. And he's probably still sleeping, too. Guess I'll just have to go wake him up. Lord knows I'm not touching his shit.

At first, I attempt at a few soft, simple knocks. When that doesn't do the trick, I opt for a more effective set of banging. "What?" he finally yelps out, tiredly.

"Oh Justin, lovely," I start in a sweet voice, talking through the barrier that is his door. "I need you to get your stuff out of the washer. I'm trying to do laundry." See...I can be nice! Usually, I'm the one that actually tries to be a little civil out of the two of us. It's only after Justin pisses me off and/or goes on his little spchiels that I have to get attitude with him. (Who'd of thought that he does both quite often?)

"Fuck off!" the idiot loudly replies in response to my request.

Okay? Again, do you see what I mean? I will not tolerate his shit though.

So I hurriedly storm away from his door, a scowl on my face. I'll show him not to take my nice, plausible complaints lightly. Quickly, I empty out the dirty clothes in my laundry bin and start to instead shove his wet ones inside. His clothes smell nasty, due to the fact that he's an idiot and can't finish a job right, of course. Once I have all of it sloppily thrown into my basket, I head straight for his room again.

This time I don't bother to knock, and lucky for me, the jackass hasn't locked his door. With one swift movement, and no hesitation inside of me mind you, I make my way over to his bed. Then, I hover above him and proceed to dump the entire contents of the basket onto the top of his big, fat head.

He immediately growls, pushing at the clothes and cursing under his breath as he attempts to sit up. "What the fuck, bitch?!" he shouts at me. (Wow, he's intelligent. Note the sarcasm, please).

"I told your ass to get out of the bed and put it in the dryer. You didn't wanna listen," I reply, scathingly. "Maybe next time you'll take care of your shit."

Justin grabs for a pair of his jeans and chucks them at my retreating form just as I near the exit. I can't help but laugh when he misses. "Nice try, moron," I add, immediately slamming his door behind me on my way out.


***

{Justin}

That stupid, little bitch. I swear to God, I can't wait to fuck her over. She's really starting to push me off of the deep end. What kind of sane person wakes you up by dumping clothes onto your fucking head? She has no right to mess with me like that, and I'm gonna go yell at Chris about his dumb ass friend. After all, I need someone to bitch at.

"Chris, that slut walked into my room, and threw my shit on me!" I gripe, not bothering to knock on his door. He too was sleeping like me--sleeping like me before Cruella fucking de Ville came and brought her vengeance. And to think, I took the bitch to a concert last night! What the hell kind of appreciation is this? You would of thought I'd at least have gotten my dick sucked off in return...but no!

"Justin, what the hell are you barging into my room and ranting about now?" he asks me, annoyed. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you two that I don't give a shit about your petty arguing. Both of you get a clue and leave me alone about it."

"She threw shit on my head!" I repeat, exasperatedly. "Can't we just fucking evict her?"

"Go. Away. Justin."

"Evict me? Why don't we evict your stupid ass?!"

Oh, lovely. Let's all rejoice--the Ice Princess has entered the room! "Shut the fuck up. This is an A and B conversation so C your way out!" I growl at her.

"Oh my God, did you learn that one in the third grade, dumbass?"

"If both of you don't get the hell outta my room right this second, I will evict both of your pathetic, sorry asses!" Chris shouts.

Whoa, buddy. He seems pissed. And so I quickly scurry out of the room, giving Cruella a glare of death as I do so.


***


Okay. So I've had a few drinks, taken a nap, and had a chance to think about this in a more rational sense. Not to mention, I'm still getting the brunt of Trace's taunting as we sit around and chug down our beers.

"That's fuckin' hilarious, man. You didn't even get a kiss? Pathetic, yo. Just give it up and stop torturing yourself," he suggests, amused.

"Listen, Stumpy," I start, irately using my oh-so-nice-and-affectionate nickname for my shorter friend. "I'm not gonna let you win this damn bet, so just get the fuck on over it and build a bridge. My work with the Ice Princess is just gonna take a little more time than I thought."

"Ice Princess?" he raises his eyebrows. "So now you've got pet names for her too? How sweet," he coos out, teasingly.

"Shut it," I reply, as I rub at my now throbbing temples. See what this bitch does to me? "I'm in no fuckin' sort of mood for your crap today. I already have to think of some insincere way of getting back onto her good side."

"Sorry dawg," Trace relents, and then gulps down the rest of his drink. "Why don't you get her some flowers?" he offers. "See--I'm a nice guy--and I know you don't have a chance with her, so I'm even offering you some helpful tips."

"Flowers?" I roll my eyes. "What kind of pussy buys flowers for a chick? That shit is overrated. I don't do romance...I fuck the women and send them packing."

Trace rolls his eyes and chuckles under his breath, amused I suppose. "Oh boy--you're so gonna lose this, man. And badly I tell you...badly."

That's what he thinks.


***

{Chloe}

Lord, I'm tired.

Class was completely draining, and I have a ton of reading to do when I get home. I can only pray that Justin is gone, because I seriously don't think I have the energy to go at it with him again. Yesterday totally put me in a bad mood--and I mean for the whole entire day. Really, I shouldn't let the stupid bastard affect me like this. He's a jerk, and at this point, I could give a crap what happens to my deal with Elise.

The money would be nice but not that nice. Nothing is worth lowering myself to the standards of a pig such as he. Nothing. I'll just have to figure out a way to break this to Elise kindly. I really do like the girl, but I just can't go on with this shit anymore. I mean, I already compromised myself and went out on a date with the ass. Must have been a real ego-booster for him. Too bad he doesn't know that I only did it for the sole purpose of cash. (And I'd inform him of this little bit of information if I didn't have Elise's confidentiality to worry about.)

Back to the money part though. I can live without it. This whole thing is pathetic of me anyways, I realize. You don't have to mention it again. I know.

Umm. Okay, this is a tad bit weird, and my stomach is now swirling with a set of butterflies. Why, you wonder? Well, because there is a lovely bouquet of flowers on top of my dresser that I notice upon entering my room. And no, they were not there when I left.

I quickly head for the vase and tear at the white envelope labeled with my name. Apparently someone didn't get the address wrong--they really are for me. And I honestly can't think of whom...

Well, fuck me. Justin-the-bastard-Timber-slut has given me flowers. Take heed of his stupid note and the fact that they are coming from him, and it's kind of a sweet and flattering gesture. My eyes once again scan his sloppy writing, and despite all my attempts, I involuntarily have to smile--and even giggle like a stupid little girl. Yes, I am--once again--pathetic I tell you.

Ella,

(And yes, the asshole has come up with more than one way of using the term 'Cruella' on my behalf. Not to mention the fact that I've heard the damn song being chanted under his breath about eighty times by now.)

But anyways, back to the note...

Now I know this isn't a fur coat...

(Haha, isn't he clever? Not.)

...but I really do hope you enjoy them anyways. Consider them as a peace offering, will you? Because I am truly sorry about the way things have gone down since the horrible ending of our date. I had a great time with you besides the fact, so please, give a guy a break and forgive me?

Blah. He's so full of it.

And why does he keep messing with me anyways? Maybe he's doing it for the sole purpose of torture.

So why am I still smiling? I don't frickin' know!


***

{Justin}

"Come in."

I crack the door open, a bright smile on my face. "You get my flowers sexy?" I ask, cheerfully, though the fact that they have been moved over to her nightstand answers my question anyways.

Chloe rolls her eyes at me and nods. "Yes, thank you, I guess."

I put my hand to my ear and tease, "I don't think I heard you. What was that?"

"Thank you!" she says louder, more aggravated.

"You're welcome, C." (I'll let her think that stands for Chloe, but we all know what it really means.)

"Great."

"So, you forgive me then?" I prod, raising my eyebrows. "I really do like you," I add, sweetly. Bullshit I really like this bitch. I'd really like if she'd let me screw her, more like it.

"Whatever," she says, nonchalantly. "I guess so. But I'm kinda busy, and I'm about to leave with a friend, so if you would..."

"Where are you going?" I immediately pry. Chloe doesn't ever go out with anyone; and Chris doesn't count, mind you. But Chris is at work, so she ain't going out with him, so who the hell is she going with? It better not be a guy.

"Now, Justin, is that really any of your concern?"

"Well, you're my lady," I say, crossing my arms over my chest, confirming her question with a big fat yes. "So yes, it is my concern."

"And you're delusional," she smiles at me. I watch as she sprays some perfume onto her wrists and then rubs them together before going to her closet and pulling out a coat. "Now I forgave you, and we're cool, blah blah blah...we'll talk later?"

I frown at her in response. "But..."

"Bye, Justin," Chloe interrupts, patting me on the shoulder as she strolls past me.

What the fuck? If this girl is going on a date, I'm gonna shoot myself.

No, I take that back.

I'm gonna shoot her date.


***

{Chloe}

"He got you flowers? He never bought me flowers!" Elise exclaims at me. "I'm telling you, Chloe. His pathetic ass has it for you! I can't wait till you..."

"Yeah, about that," I quickly interrupt her, adding solemnly, "I don't think I can go through with this deal, Elise."

Her pretty face drops, and I can just tell she's upset and going to flip out in a second. "What do you mean? I thought we had this arranged already! You can't just back out of it, that's not right. And I thought we were friends now."

I look down at the floor of the Blockbuster carpet in guilt. "I know, and I really do consider you a friend, but..."

"But nothing!" she exclaims, dramatically. "You can't do this to me, Chloe! Please, think of all of the women he's messed with! Don't you want to be the one?"

"The one?" I ask, puzzled. Like I said, I really do like Elise, but sometimes she can act and say stuff that is just a tad bit...weird?

"The one that gets to dump his ass and make him pay! Come on, don't be stupid now!"

I sigh as I flip the Season Two DVD of Sex and the City in my hands, idly glancing at all of the other movies as I listen to her. Why does she have to be such a drama queen about this? "Elise, come on. I'm sure you can find someone else, someone more..."

"Please, Chloe. Don't give up on me now. Please," she begs me, pathetically.

Fuck. Why am I so nice? Why can't I just say no to people? I hate Justin. I hate him. "Fine..." I regretfully mumble, sighing loudly.

Elise, being the bubbly cheerleader type that she is, (Lord, usually her type drives me fuckin' nuts), immediately squeals and gives me a sideways hug. "Thank you, thank you! I knew I could convince you! You just gotta stick in there, girly," she adds, happily.

Damn the optimistic bitch. Easy for her to say. She doesn't live with the jerk.


***

{Justin}

"Hey, Ma," I greet, walking towards my bedroom, cordless phone in hand. "How ya been doin'?"

"Justin, it's so good to hear from you sweetheart. I've missed you!"

I smile. Now I know you all probably don't believe it, but I really am a mama's boy. My mom is the best person in the world. Living out of state is a nice thing at times; I get away with a lot of shit that she would normally disapprove of and notice me doing had I been living with her. But on the other hand, I do miss her a lot. "Me too."

"And how is Christopher?"

"Good. Same as last time you saw him," I reply, plopping down onto my bed and leaning my head against the soft pillows.

"What about your other roommate? You two getting along any better?" she asks me, questioningly.

"Eh, Mama, she's a bitch. I still hate her," I admit. "I took her on a date, though."

My mom chuckles, and I can just hear the exasperation in her voice. "Sweetie, if you don't like her then why did you take her on a date? And why do you hate her so much? Chris tells me she's a very sweet girl."

"Judged upon who? Hitler? Then yeah, I guess you could say she's sweet," I explain, dryly.

Mom laughs, scolding me. "Justin..."

"What? She treats me like crap," I whine, pathetically. "And I took her out on a date...um because, well, I sort of like her, I guess?"

"Aww, my poor baby. Do you have a crush on a girl that hates you?" she teases, then adds on, "I think you can find other girls that actually like you, can't you sweetie?"

"I have to have her though," I reply, persistently.

And this is true. I have to have her, because I have a bet to win. I won't tell that to my mother though. She would personally fly her ass out here and smack me one upside the head if I did. I prefer to keep myself on her good side, you know?

"Honey, did you tell her?" she asks, getting all into the conversation. My mom is so cute; she loves gossip and all this girly business shit I tell her.

"Sort of. But hey, listen, what's something--you know--like romantic--" I start out, and yes, yes, I am cringing big time. "--that I can do for her? I need some ideas from a woman's perspective."

"Well," my mom replies, enthusiastically. "I don't know sweetie--there's so many things! Why don't you buy her a little gift to show your interest? Something that she likes so it will impress her. Make her dinner? Write her a letter. Take her out somewhere nice...movie, dinner? I don't know, sweetie..." she repeats, trailing off.

I scratch at my chin and think about this for a moment. Eh, and so far, the only three or so conclusions that I'm drawing from this advice?

A) This is shit.

B) I'm pissed that I have to make such efforts; I normally just lay on false charm; I don't ever actually try to do something genuinely sweet and caring for a woman's sake.

C) And this one is the most prominent thought for me; I'm damning the day that I ever decided to pursue Chloe Marin.

{Chloe}

Okay, so as hard as this is for me, I’m going to admit something to you. The last few weeks have led me to an unexpected discovery. What have I discovered, you might wonder?

Now, as shocking as this probably is to you and me both… what I have discovered is that Justin Timberlake does in fact possess at least one redeeming quality. I mean, in contrast to all of his typically overbearing, obnoxious, and disgusting qualities I guess that’s not really saying much though, right?

Well that’s what I keep telling myself anyways.

You see, it all started with those damn roses he got me. And then it continued on with a pathetic yet sickeningly endearing set of notes that he kept leaving around the house for me. The first time it happened, I woke up and just as I got out of bed, I noticed a slip of paper falling to the carpeted floor.

So I’m sure you’re wondering what it said, huh? Well, I’ll tell you. It said, “Wow…I never knew sleeping could be so beautiful.”

Now of course, at first, I was a little freaked out by the whole thing. I mean, stalker much? I really didn’t like the whole idea of my crazy, asshole roommate coming in and watching me while I slept. But then this sick thing happened…as the day went by, and the more and more I thought about it, the more and more I was kind of well…flattered.

Okay, so I know what you’re thinking…I was being completely and utterly pathetic, right? Don’t worry, I completely agree with you. And the sad thing is, is that as the days continued and the more and more notes that I found secretly laying around for me, the more and more I started to enjoy them…anticipate them even.

Finally, Justin broke the last straw though.

It was just this week, Wednesday I believe, when I found another note from him inside one of my English textbooks. I smiled and sighed, tucking it under my pillow before I suddenly pulled it out and read it again.

A great epiphany suddenly hit me.

Here I was, trying my best to avoid him, and all the while I still had this whole arrangement with Elise going on…and instead of following through on the whole deal, I was actually starting to become Elise. Or one of those girls like Elise. You know, the ones who fell for his every word, his insincere charms, gave him everything he wanted…

I just couldn’t let that be me. So I quickly put a stop to things…or so I thought that was what I was doing at the time anyways…

Knocking on his bedroom door, it was only a few seconds before Justin appeared with a bright smile. “Hey…what a nice surprise.”

“I want you to stop leaving me those notes,” I immediately demanded.

He smirked. “Why? They at least got you to talk to me.”

“I’m not talking to you,” I quickly snapped at him. “I’m just telling you to stop.”

As usual, the bastard practiced his daily habit of licking his lips. Complacently, he replied, “Well, fine….”

“Fine, thank you!” I interrupted him, quickly turning to leave.

“Wait!” he hastily grabbed for my arm. “I wasn’t done. Fine…but only on one condition.”

I turned around, sending him an evil glare in the process. “What do you mean? I’m not negotiating with you here.”

“Alright,” he shrugged, biting his cheek to keep his smug smile from reappearing. “I guess I’ll just keep up with the notes then sexy.”

I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?”

“Go out with me again.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

And that should explain it all to you. That’s why I’m sitting here, thinking about all this nonsense when I should be getting ready for our…err soon to be date-from-hell number two.

Damn it.

Why did his only endearing quality have to be persistence? And why did I ever have to make that damn deal with Elise? Why!

You can only imagine the disgust and remorse racing through my veins that day when, defeated, I uttered, “Fine.”



****



{Justin}

I’m currently sitting across from Chloe, going over all the different ways in my head that I can break the ice between us. You know how there’s silence with someone and there’s awkward silence with someone? Yeah, well, we have the awkward kind of silence between us right now, as we both sit here waiting for the waiter to bring out our dinner.

I must admit, she looks really cute tonight. Maybe one of the reasons I’m finding her so cute, is that she’s not opening up her mouth. Lord knows the minute she does that, I usually want to tape it right back shut again.

Clearing my throat, I hesitantly smile at her. I have to do something here. I need to talk. I’ve got to get her to like me. I’ve just got to keep thinking that if she likes me, then I’ll eventually get to fuck her. Get her to like you, fuck her. “So...how are you doing in your classes?”

Okay, so sue me. I couldn’t think of a better question. And just by searching her room, it’s not like I know enough about her to strike up some immaculate conversation that would get her all interested.

“Fine. And yours?” she asks me politely, looking around the room at the other tables, obviously completely bored.

“Um…okay. I kind of need to catch up in a few,” I respond, thinking about my grades. Jesus, why did I bring up school anyways? What a fucking headache. I forgot how behind I was in all my classes.

I’ve been busy though! Leaving notes for Chloe, staying at Jamie’s…err or was it Jackie’s…well her place and fucking, trying to charm Chloe, hanging out with the boys, thinking of ways to get on Chloe’s good side, and then fucking Jackie some more...

Well, you’ve got the point, I’m sure. I’ve been busy.

She gives me a slight nod and continues to stare behind me off into the distance. Defeated, I decide to just observe her for a while instead. Her hair is up, and she has on this sweater thing that barely shows anything. God, couldn’t she dress a little more revealing? It does make me wonder though…

“Why are you always staring at me?” she suddenly snaps, interrupting my thoughts.

I look into her brown eyes and lick my lips nervously. “Well…well what do you care?” I retort, stupidly. I couldn’t think of anything better at the moment, so fuck off.

“It’s just…” she pauses mid-thought.

“What?” I pry, suddenly back to my usual argumentative self. “Do I make you nervous when I stare at you like that? Hmm? Why?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “No. It’s just annoying when people stare,” she replies, not once looking away from our steady gaze.

“I bet I could stare at you longer than you could stare at me,” I suddenly challenge, enjoying the way my staring is getting under her skin.

“You are so immature.”

I grin, my blue eyes never leaving her brown ones as I say, “Stop looking at me then.”

“No,” she hisses, her voice lowering a little. “You stop looking at me.”

“I hope you know… I used to always win staring contests as a child.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re sexy.”

Her eyes are kind of entrancing. I love arguing with her like this. Love it. “You’re a pervert.”

“You like it,” I reply. God this is fun. I bet people think we’re freaks.

“You wish I liked it…stop looking at me!”

“I bet you want to kiss me right now.”

“You’re so fucking immature.”

Our eyes are still connected. I begin to mock her in the same tone, “You’re so fucking…”

Suddenly, there’s commotion to the side and both of our heads snap towards our waiter. He clears his throat and gives a sort of freighted smile. “Um…you had the spaghetti, right miss?”

As soon as our food is in front of us and the waiter is gone, she looks up at me and at the same time we both snarl, “You lost!”



****



{Chloe}

I laugh at him and hold out my hand. “My rent please.”

Justin rolls his eyes and starts to count out the monopoly money that he owes me for landing on Boardwalk with hotels. “I don’t want to play anymore,” he pouts, handing me over the money he owes.

It’s funny… he’s such a sore loser. On our way home from the restaurant, we practically bickered the whole way home about who won the staring contest at dinner. And then he quickly challenged me to a game of Monopoly when we got home so he could prove once and for all that he was the real winner.

So far, I’m winning though. Heh…what now, bitch?

“Whatever, Justin. You just want to quit because once again, you’re losing to me,” I say with a smile.

This is eerily frightening, but so far all of our arguments tonight have been playful. I mean in a sick, twisted sort of way, we’re getting along. And well, I’m actually having fun with him. He’s even made me laugh a few times tonight. And then he paid for my dinner…and that was….err sweet of him.

Don’t get me wrong though. It’s not like I’m saying he’s a saint or anything. I still hold to the fact that 99 percent of the time he is a complete prick.

“That’s not true. I’m really just hungry,” he defends, starting to put away the game.

“We just ate!” I exclaim.

“Yeah but…I want some dessert now,” he argues, poking me in the side.

It was weird for me to get used to at first, but I’m sort of getting a little more accustomed to his random touches. Who would have thought that the man-whore would be a touchy-sort of feely kind of guy?

All night, it seemed like he always found some reason to poke me, touch my hair, hold my hand…eww well you get the idea. I’m trying my best to be indifferent with the whole thing, while not completely recoiling. This is all for the deal's sake, of course.

“So, you wanna go get some ice cream gorgeous?”

God. That’s another thing. It’s like every ten seconds he’s calling me some pet name and acting like we’re already a couple of nine months, madly in love. Yeah right…get real.

Smiling at him, I shrug and try to go with the flow, ignoring his overused terms of endearment. “I guess so. Where at?”

“We could go to that place up the street.”

“Yeah…okay,” I agree.

I have to bite my lip when he smiles and gets up, reaching his hand out for me to join him in standing. “C’mon, let’s go then!” he says excitedly.

Reaching my arm up, I hesitantly place my hand inside his own. I have to force my body to relax as he intertwines our fingers and drags me towards the exit.

And then something really, really bad happens.

Justin suddenly stops just as we’re outside the door, looks down at me and gives me this crooked smile. “You know what, Chloe? I could really fall for a girl like you,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing my forehead before I get the chance to protest it.

The rest of the way to the ice cream shop, only one terrifying question keeps replaying over and over in my mind.

What if I could really fall for a guy like Justin Timberlake, too?

{Justin}

As I stroll inside the room, I nod my head at a familiar face walking past me and then continue to scan the library for her. I know she’s here because I read the note she left for Chris on the fridge, stating that she was going to be at the library studying all day. (I’m clever, I know.)

But man, doesn’t she have any friends to hang out with or something? I mean, who goes to a library on a Friday afternoon to study? Apparently, Chloe does. But seriously…all the girl ever does is study, work, and/or chill with Chris…and now me.

Heh…yes, you heard it right folks! Chloe has actually been spending some time with me lately. But other than me and Chris, I don’t know who the hell the girl talks to…if she even does talk to anyone else.

Ugh, well, I take that back.

Chris and I aren’t her only friends. I haven’t figured out who else she buddies up with yet, but I do know that she’s left the house a few times to go visit a “friend.”

The name of this friend has yet to be revealed. (Whatever the name of this friend is, it best not belong to anyone of the male species, if you get what I’m saying.) The last thing I need right now is some bastard trying to come in on my girl.

Yeah, yeah…so she’s not my girl, and I’m being a possessive asshole by saying so. But honestly? I really don’t give a fuck. Chloe is mine to be won, and other guys going after her are only making it longer until I eventually reach the finish line of this game.

Well, anyways, enough of that—there’s my prize as we speak…

With a confident smile on my face, I casually head over to the table that she’s occupying all by her lonesome. She’s got her head buried in a text book, and she looks a bit stressed. Hmm, wonder why?

Just as I’m about to approach the table, I feel a sudden pang of nervousness. What if she’s pissed that I came here? Fuck, why am I being such a pussy? Anyways, she’s not gonna be pissed…we’ve been getting along great lately. In fact, I can just tell that she’s falling for me already. And can you blame her?

Heh…damn…I’m good. I seriously can’t wait to fuck her and rub it in Trace’s face like no other…I’m now standing right in front of her, and she’s looking up at me with a—well bored maybe?—expression on her face.

“Hey Chloe,” I greet, smiling brightly at her.

“What do you want, Justin?” she immediately demands of me.

Without her permission to do so, I swiftly pull out one of the vacant chairs at the table so that I am now sitting right across from her. Damn, she can be such a snappy bitch sometimes. Not even a courteous, ‘Hello Justin’ comes from her mouth before she’s already bitching at me?

Oh well, I don’t call her Cruella for nothing yo.

“What do you mean?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Reaching down and pulling an item out of the book bag I cleverly carried along with me, I expose one of my text books with a grin. “I came to get some studying done, and I just happened to see ya sitting here. You don’t mind me sitting with you…do you?” I finish off, challenging her with my steady gaze.

“Um…I guess not…whatever,” she replies. Bringing her focus back to her books for a second, she quickly looks up at me with an afterthought, “Just be quiet, as in shut your big mouth, as in keep your damn thoughts to yourself, as in don’t talk to me at all….”

I hold up my hand to show her that I get the point. “Alright, alright… I got you,” I reply exasperatedly. “Geez.”

Rolling her eyes, she ignores my interruption and finishes off, “Anyways, Justin, the point is, is that I have a lot of shit to learn today, and I don’t need you fucking up my schedule.”

“Yes ma’am.” I grin and pull my hand over my mouth as I proceed to pretend that I am zipping my lips shut and then throwing away the key. (Sure, I’ll keep quiet…for about five minutes at least.)

Just as she is rolling her eyes and fixing to get back to her studying, I tap her arm until she looks up at me again. Then I add my one last comment (for now) that just has to be said, “I just wanted to let you know that….” I trail off, deciding not to finish my sentence. Just to annoy her a little bit more, of course.

She waits a few seconds before sardonically questioning me, “Is that it or are you gonna prove that you’re actually capable of forming full sentences?”

With a chuckle, I continue on with my tormenting, “Easy, easy Rella. I just wanted to let you know that—” I pause for good measure, “that I love it when you get feisty and start to boss me around—so sexy mami,” I finish off huskily.

Chloe almost looks revolted by my explanation, but I decide to throw in a wink for good measure anyways.

Anyhow, she knows she really likes it.

I’m telling you…deep down inside…that girl wants me.



****



Okay, so I have a problem here.

Already I’m bored out of my fucking mind in this library…and I’ve only been sitting here with her for like twenty minutes now. Of course, Chloe is completely focused on her work—not at all bored out of her fucking mind, mind you—as she sits across from me taking notes…writing…whatever she’s doing.

Me, on the other hand? Well, my bio book is at least open…I’m just not exactly reading it.

I guess I’m just kind of letting my mind wander, you know?

And damn, I’m horny.

I wonder what kind of panties Chloe is wearing?

God, I bet she has a tight ass pussy…and what if she’s a virgin?

“Justin?”

And I bet her tits feel real…

“Justin!”

Oh shit. She’s talking.

Dragging my eyes away from her chest, I put on an innocent smile. “Hmm? What?”

“Are you studying?”

“Yeah,” I hastily reply. “I’m studying breasts…”

Oops.

“I mean for my test.”

Shit. I can just hear it now. I bet you anything she’s gonna go off on some feminist bullshit at any second. Damn my big ass mouth. Why did I have to go and get horny at the library?

Shocking me out of my worries, she starts to giggle at me. What the hell? She’s laughing—wait a second, that’s good—I made her laugh!

“What’s so funny?” I ask, raising a curious eyebrow.

Chloe shakes her head and looks back down at her book. “Nothing…it’s just…you’re so pathetic that it’s amusing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I quickly ask, trying my best not to get offended too early.

“It just seems like you’d take your classes a little more seriously. I mean, don’t you ever think about anything other than sex?”

No.

“Uh, yeah!” I defensively reply. “I think about a lot of other things, mind you.”

“Like what?” she challenges me.

“Like…school. And why don’t you shut up? I’m trying to study here,” I add, mockingly.

Chloe smirks and pushes a package of unopened index cards my way. “Just shut up and make some flashcards, Justin. They’ll help prepare you for your midterm. Assuming you’re going to study for your midterms?”

Rolling my eyes, I grab the package and begin to open it. “I didn’t realize you cared so much about my studying habits,” I mutter, pulling the cap off of my pen for the first time since I’ve joined her.

“I don’t,” she responds, her eyes already glued back to her work. “I just know that you’ve got lots of potential and so little discipline. That’s all.”

Wow…I think that may be the first time she’s ever come even close to complimenting me. Guess it’s time for me to live up to that ‘potential’ then. And don’t even try to call me a loser.

It’s not like I have anything better to do here at the library anyways.



****



{Chloe}

Well, he made it.

He actually stayed with me the entire time that I spent at the library. I didn’t think it was possible. And now he’s tagging along with me to my next destination. God, in a way I can’t help but want to smack him for being so annoying all day—and then again—I can’t help but be glad that things are ending up the way they are today.

I mean I’m actually, truly, and honestly having a pretty okay, fun day with him so far. Oh goodness, I’ve spoken too soon—he’s beginning to whine again. “Rella…”

“First of all,” I start, briskly climbing out of the taxi as he follows closely behind me. “Stop calling me that. Second of all, stop whining because it’s really annoying.”

“But…”

“I didn’t force you to come with me, Justin,” I point out once again, as I so kindly did practically the entire ride here.

“I know, but…”

“But if you don’t want to come along, then hurry up and run after the cab because you’re not changing my mind,” I say definitively, crossing my arms over my chest for good measure.

Here he goes being annoying again. We’re just standing here in the middle of the parking lot, as he makes some pathetic pout on his face that I could seriously laugh at rather than swoon over. “So—are you coming or not?” I finally ask, ignoring his face all together.

Justin pouts his lip out even further before he finally relents with a big huff. He begins to walk towards the building as he bitches, “Fine! I’ll go play Bingo on a Friday night with some old, wrinkly, fat lady that you feel sorry for.”

I immediately shoot him a dirty look. “Justin, don’t make me change my mind about you again,” I warn. “And she’s not fat, you moron!” I add, looking over my shoulder as I walk past him. “She’s a very sweet lady.”

He begins to follow me towards the building where I’m meeting Mrs. Clarke for our monthly night of Bingo. I try and visit or get to see her as often as I can, but with work and school that’s not always an easy thing to do. I always make sure that I make it for Bingo at least once a month though.

“How did you meet the old bag again?” Justin interrupts my thoughts, just as we’re about to enter the building.

I roll my eyes and allow him to open the front door for me. “You’re so close minded. You don’t even know her. She’s a regular at the coffee house. And she’s really sweet. She’s just lonely, and I like her. So shut up!”

I almost pull my hand away when he grabs for it. Elise. Elise. Bringing it up to his lips and kissing it in an apologetic fashion, he begins sweetly, “You’re right. I’m sorry baby…I guess I’m just not as good of a person as you are.”

Shaking my head, I look around the lobby for Mrs. Clarke.

She must be running late.

“You could be,” is all I say in response to his proclamation.



****



{Justin}

You’d be surprised at how relaxing a simple game such as Bingo can be.

The whole night I sat there, keeping track of my various cards, making sure not to miss any of my numbers being called out. And while I did that, I totally forgot about my worries—about everything. I forgot about the bet that led me to even playing Bingo in the first place, I forgot about how lame it was that I was sitting in a room with a bunch of middle aged folks, and I even forgot about having sex.

And I had fun…a lot of fun.

Chloe turned out to be right, too. I am a close minded, judgmental prick. Ouch.

Mrs. Clarke was fucking awesome, though. She was funny, and she even said that Chloe was lucky to have such a charming young man such as myself interested in her. I, of course, modestly disagreed, but we all know she was right anyways.

Right now, I’m sliding the key into our apartment door, anticipating at least a fucking kiss from her. I mean, c’mon, you didn’t think I’d forget about sex forever, now did you? And besides, I suffered through studying and Bingo for her tonight. It’s the least she can do, right?

Chris’ car was gone when we got here, and I’m pretty sure that he said he was staying at his girlfriend's place tonight, so I know I can get away with making a move on her with out worrying about him seeing. So yeah, here goes nothing…

Pausing in my steps, I reach out to grab her arms and steady her in place as well. “I need to ask you something,” I explain, licking my lips and eyeing her carefully.

“Um, okay,” she replies suspiciously. “What is it?”

I’m just gonna come out with it. “Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes widen at my question, and she immediately shrinks away from me. “What are you…”

“Please, Chlo,” I beg, grasping her hands in my own, firmly enough so that she can’t run away. “Just for a second… please. I just want to feel your lips for a second.”

She looks totally uncomfortable, and I think I kind of like it this way. At least I know I’m affecting her. Her hands are shaking inside my own now. I can do this. I’ve almost got her. Just a few more words and I’ll get what I want…for now.

“Please baby…I promise… just one kiss. You don’t know how bad I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long…” I whisper, the words just sort of flowing from my mouth as I await her answer.

Please, God, let her say yes.

If she doesn’t, not only will I be facing rejection and humiliation, but I’ll also have to attempt to kiss her again after facing this rejection and humiliation. If I ever want to win that bet, I will anyway. I watch as she takes a deep, calming breath and then closes her eyes. My heart is palpitating painfully in my chest, as she finally and almost inaudibly utters out her permission to me, “fine.”

I have to smile to myself before I lean in to finally experience the feel of Chloe Marin’s lips for the very first time.

{Justin}

10:42 pm.

Looking up from my wristwatch, I glance back at the mirror and check my teeth. Perfect. I’m running right on schedule, and the teeth are looking fresh. I think I’m almost ready to leave for my ‘date.’ Really, all I need to do is put on my shoes and hat, and I should be good to go.

God, it’s been a great day! And it’s about to get even better. Let me explain…

This is going to be my first chance to actually get some alone time with Alex. Alex—in case you’re wondering—is this girl I happened to meet on campus last week. And let me tell you, she’s fucking fine.

The only problem with her that I can think of off of the top of my head is that she has this annoying roommate that is practically always hanging off of her ass. Oh and yeah…speaking of which, she also kind of has no ass. (Which isn’t all that appealing to me, but hey, back to my original point.)

So yes...her roommate is gonna be out of the picture tonight. Apparently, she is off staying the night at some relatives or something. This is just perfect for me—and as you can imagine—I’m excited!

Walking through the living room, I jump when I hear the slam of the front door. Chloe suddenly appears but then quickly disappears towards her bedroom I assume. And were those tears I just saw on her face? She looked really upset. I don’t even think she saw me standing here.

Damn—suddenly—I’m kind of torn. What should I do? I mean, I can’t just not go check on her… right? Chris isn’t even home to console her. But then again, what if I’m late? I need to leave. Alex is gonna be waiting for me…ready and willing to let me touch her…

Oh shit.

What am I thinking?

I have to at least go check on her! I’m her friend now. And I’m trying to get her to love me. This is much more important than some easy lay, right?

Right…Well, I’ll just keep thinking that while I make my way to her room anyways. It’ll make me feel better with what I’m about to do. It’s amazing how nice I can be sometimes, huh?

Softy knocking on her door, I put my ear against it, straining to hear anything from inside. I hear a few sniffles, but she still hasn’t responded. I know she’s in there now. “Chloe…it’s me…can I come in?” I gently ask, tapping the door a few more times.

It takes a few seconds, and I have to listen closely, but I can faintly make out her reply. “Not right now Justin. Just go away please.”

“Come on Chloe, what’s wrong? Can I just come in real…” I trail off, my hand curiously turning the door knob just to see if it’s locked.

It isn’t locked.

Chloe looks up from her seated position on the side of her bed and frowns at me before she quickly wipes at her face. “Um hi,” I greet her, hesitantly. “It wasn’t locked.”

“Justin, please. Just go away,” she repeats weakly, looking down at her lap instead of meeting my gaze.

Scratching my neck, I nervously stand in place and watch as she sniffles some more. I hate it when girls cry. I hate it. I never have liked it. And even though I’m not the cause for this particular scene, I still don’t like to watch it. I mean shit, why do women have to be so damn emotional anyways?

Okay, okay. I know this isn’t the time for me to be an insensitive jerk, I know. I’ve got to get it together. Snapping myself out of my thoughts, I slowly walk towards the bed and take a seat beside her slightly shaking form. With much hesitance on my part, I gently place my hand on the small of her back. “Hey…what’s going on?” I whisper, comfortingly.

My stomach turns and I cringe as I watch her blankly look off into space, the tears still flowing. She’s not answering me either. Did I mention that I hate to watch women cry? “Chloe?” I question her again, soothingly rubbing my hand up and down her back.

Errm—I guess I’m doing a good job so far. I mean, she is breathing a little less harshly. But fuck, she still isn’t talking to me and…

“I don’t know what to do, Justin.”

Shit. What does that mean? I hope this isn’t serious. I’m not good at giving advice. Fuck, who am I kidding? I’m not even good at comforting women. I can’t even remember the last time I was there to console—damn, I’m not focusing here…I need to focus on her. Focus, Justin. Focus. “What do you mean? What’s going on?” I ask her again.

I watch as Chloe glances down at her jeans and remains silent. Finally, after the longest time, she gently shakes her head, as she reaches to wipe at the last of her tears. “Nothing, nothing—never mind—I shouldn’t even be bothering you with it. I know you have your own…”

“You’re not bothering me,” I hastily interrupt her. I need her to talk to me. “Come on, please. Just tell me. Maybe—maybe uhh—you know, maybe I can help,” I finally add, just slightly stumbling over my words. Damn that was hard.

Oh, thank you Jesus! I’m now fighting the urge to sigh a huge sigh of relief as she finally shifts her position a little more towards my direction and then begins to explain. “It’s just—you’re going to think this is so dumb.”

“I won’t. Just tell me,” I encourage her, reaching down and grabbing her hands for assurance. God, I hope I’m doing this right…

“Okay well—I just—I had a really bad day at work. And then this one lady came in, and she was a total bitch and she…well that doesn’t even matter,” she begins to ramble off. I widen my eyes, as I watch her stare down at our hands, the words suddenly just flowing from her mouth. I’ve never seen Chloe talk so fast, or so much for that matter…

“And then,” she continues on, “I ran into this girl, Jamie, or something like that. Anyways, she’s from my English class. Well, she asks me about this essay that’s due tomorrow and me being an idiot, I don’t know how I thought this, but I was thinking it wasn’t due till Friday. But it’s due tomorrow. And I barely started on it because I’ve just been trying to catch up in my other classes…”

Licking my lips, I try to follow her story. She’s talking a little fast, biting her lip and sighing in between sentences with nervousness, I suppose. “So anyways…yeah. I’m pretty much screwed, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear this either, but I just started my period and…”

Oh, fuck me, my ears! Now why did she have to go and mention that? Thank God she’s not looking up at me to see my cringe…

“…I get really emotional, so I know I’m just overacting…” she trails off and then takes a deep breath before continuing. “But I’m really tired, and I don’t even know where to begin on this essay. And it’s so important to me…my grades, I mean, you know? That’s all I have, my grades…and I just don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t finish this paper…”

“Chloe…”

“Because…”

“Chloe,” I interrupt her again, more firmly this time. Letting go of one of her hands, I reach out and tilt her chin up so that she’s looking at me. “Calm down for a second. Now take a deep breath.”

Surprisingly enough, she obeys me. I watch as she slowly inhales and exhales and then looks at me with expectant eyes. “Okay, now tell me what your essay is supposed to be about.”

“What—but why?” Chloe asks me, a questioning expression taking over her features.

I quickly place my finger onto her lips to silence her. “Shh—just what is it about?” I repeat.

She bites her lip, as I pull my finger away. “Um, racism.”

“Okay. And how long does it have to be?”

“Five pages, minimum.”

“Okay then!” I say, sharply lifting myself from the bed.

Chloe stares at me like I’m crazy as I calmly begin to explain, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go run up to Starbucks, grab you some of the strongest coffee they’ve got, come back here and then we’re gonna start working on a paper about...” I pause and try to recall the subject she just mentioned. “Oh yes, a paper about racism.”

She begins to protest. “But…”

“No, no seriously! I’m gonna help you. I’m a good writer.”

Chloe swiftly stands up from the bed and grabs for my sleeve just as I’m turning and heading away form her. “Justin, wait!”

I turn around and raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I…you…well you seem like you’re all dressed up,” she suddenly points out, as if she’s just noticed my appearance. “I mean—were you going somewhere?” she asks.

Fuck. I was going somewhere, wasn’t I?

Looking down at my jeans, I lick my lips and then bring my eyes back up to meet her own. And I could totally be imagining this, but she honestly looks like she actually hopes I’m gonna say no. For the first time since I’ve known the girl, I actually feel wanted by her…

My stomach does a flip-flop as I quickly make my decision. “No, I mean—I was just gonna go up to the store for some movies cause I was bored,” I fib, easily. “But now I have something to do—I need to help you.”

Chloe bites her lip again. Damn, I’m beginning to notice a trend with this girl and biting her lips. Then she smiles at me. Wow, she really is pretty when she smiles...

“I really was wrong about you, Justin,” she states softly.

Returning her smile and nodding, I have to bite my own lip as I quickly turn around and head for my exit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but suddenly I’m not feeling so great anymore. And it’s not because I’m not going to get to see Alex tonight.

It’s because….it’s because I wish she really had been wrong about me.



****



{Chloe}

2:36 am.

Glancing up from the time on my computer, I quickly hold up the disk in my hand—the disk in which my finished paper is saved and ready to be printed out. “Well—it’s done and saved,” I state, turning to face him as he sits beside me on the couch.

Justin grins and pats my leg. “See, I told you we’d finish! Now, tell me, are you feeling way better than before or what?”

“Yes…thank you so much for helping me,” I add, staring into his eyes. “I seriously don’t think I could have finished without your help.”

Justin brings his hand up, waving off my thanks. “No need to thank me—I’m glad I got to help you out.”

Before I can stop myself, I quickly lean over and kiss his cheek. It’s the first time I’ve ever touched him on my own, and the second time that I’ve kissed him. Well, the last time I kissed him, it was different. It was a little longer—and it was on the lips.

I must admit that he has nice lips. And he really knows how to kiss. But I mean, why wouldn’t he? His lips have been practically everywhere. I don’t want to think about that right now though; I’m trying to change my mind about him.

It’s not like I’m being totally disloyal to my real feelings though, right? I still know that he can be a complete jerk, and I still want to succeed at making him suffer like Elise says he deserves…or at least, I think I still want to…

“So,” Justin says, stretching his long legs out in front of the couch. “You tired?”

“No, not really,” I answer him. “I think that coffee really did it for me.”

He chuckles and nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he replies, his eyes staring at the coffee table.

Um, okay. I never noticed this before—but well, this is totally gross—but Justin is sort of not-so-bad looking. Okay, okay…he’s more than not-so-bad looking. He’s very good looking.

And I know what you’re thinking. Duh, he is! Why else do all these girls swoon after him?

But seriously, I’ve never really found him to be all that attractive until now. I guess it’s mainly just because I’m more into personality than looks when it comes to guys anymore. (Not that I’m saying looks aren’t somewhat important, but I’ve already fallen for the whole great looking, asshole, no brain sort of guy before—and trust me—it didn’t end up well.)

But anyways…now I’m staring, and I think he just noticed.

How embarrassing.

“What?” he asks me, looking over and blinking shyly.

Eww—why is he all of the sudden being so cute?

Is this what happens to all of the other girls?

Am I becoming another Elise? I can’t be…

But I just don’t know anymore. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m confused, frightened, and intrigued all at the same time.

“Nothing,” I say at last, my cheeks burning. “I was just thinking.”

Justin grins and raises an eyebrow. “Mmm-kay,” he replies, skeptically, just a little too confidently for my liking.

How does he do that? How is he one minute all shy and curious and the next cocky as ever? God, he drives me crazy! “Anyways—since there’s nothing to do but sleep, and we’re both not tired—you wanna play a game?”

My eyes immediately roll, my worries being forgotten for the time being. “Oh Lord, Justin, not again.”

“What?!” he exclaims, defensively. “This isn’t even a game where you can win!”

I tilt my head in doubt. “What kind of game is there where you can’t win?”

“The question game.”

“The question game?” I ask.

“Yeah, you know. Like twenty questions. You’ve heard of that, right?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Let’s play it!”

I immediately frown at him. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because….” I trail off, a good answer failing to come to mind.

Damn.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he insists. “And I want to get to know more about you.”

Oh gosh, why do I have a bad feeling about this one? Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

Justin has oh-so-nicely mentioned here and there these past few weeks that we have been ‘hanging out’ that I need to chill out and have more fun now and again. He actually thinks I’m uptight. Can you believe that?

I am not uptight…but what does he know anyways?

“Fine. You go first.”



****



{Justin}

We’re sitting Indian-style across from each other now, and I grin as we’re about to start the game. I don’t know why I suddenly thought of this, but I think it’ll be a good way to get to know some valuable information about my little Ice-princess. “Okay, so I’m first…”

Chloe nods, confirming my statement. It’s so funny—she looks all anxious and nervous now. I think I’ll be nice and start it off easy for her. “So—do you think I’m hot?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, she gives me her dramatic, ‘what a dumb-ass question’ face. Damn, I swear her eyes are gonna roll back into her head one of these days! “What? Don’t roll your eyes at me woman! You have to answer!” I demand.

“Fine,” she huffs. “You’re...um…cute.”

I grin confidently. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I know it’s hard for the poor girl to admit that she wants me. “And don’t worry, I think you’re hot too,” I add, giving her a wink.

Heh—I made her blush.

“Yeah, yeah,” she quickly begins to brush off my comment, regardless of her flushed appearance. “Um—do you have any siblings?”

“Yes, I’ve got two younger half-brothers. What about you?”

“An older brother and a younger sister,” she replies.

“Cool,” I nod. I wanna ask something a little more interesting, but I think I’ll wait a few questions before I start getting too excited. “Hmm—what’s your favorite food?”

“Spaghetti.”

“Hey—me too.”

“Wow, we actually have something in common,” Chloe says. “Unbelievable!”

“Shad up,” I tease, tapping her leg. “It’s your turn.”

She smiles and rubs her chin for a moment. Finally, she asks me, “Um—so—do you have a big dick?”

Oh. My. Fucking. God!

My mouth is wide open in shock. Honestly. That did not just come out of her mouth! Chloe is a freaking prude and—and I was supposed to be the first one to ask a perverted question! I watch as she raises her eyebrows in anticipation of my response.

I quickly get a hold of myself and force out an answer, “Yes…yes I do,” I recover smoothly. “Huge, in fact.”

Chloe giggles and rolls her eyes. “Sure ya do.”

“Want me to prove it?” I ask her, my hands going down towards the button of my jeans.

“No!” she responds, forcefully.

Oh, okay, there’s my innocent Chloe back again. I smirk at her. “That’s what I thought.”

“Anyways,” she dismisses. “Your turn.”

“Do you ever masturbate?”

“Justin!” she shrieks, throwing the pillow she had resting on her lap at my chest. “That’s a very rude question to ask!”

Heh heh.

She sounds all reprimanding and stuff, and I can tell she’s completely embarrassed. I love to embarrass this girl. I mean, a lot of the time, she doesn’t fall for my shit, and she’ll give it to me good, but it’s funny when she gets like this. “Why?” I ask innocently. “You’re the one who started it.”

“Well, because, that’s none of your business.”

“But you agreed to play,” I argue.

Chloe’s eyes narrow at me. “Fine…yes.”

I can’t help the huge grin on my face that I have right now. Or those images of her naked, alone and—well doing you know what—coming to my head either. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought I did. “Wow, that’s sexy…”

“Whatever,” she replies. “And I already know you do it.”

I wink. “Hey, masturbation is very healthy for your body, you know?”

She ignores me. “Have you ever been in love?” she asks instead, eyeing me carefully.

I squirm a little under her gaze—and her question. Oh god, love? In love? Well yeah. Once. Twice. But I don’t like to… “Um, yeah.”

She looks sort of surprised. “Oh.”

“What about you?” I pry, brushing off her weird look. “You ever been in love?”

“No.”

“No?” I repeat, disbelievingly.

“I thought I was, but…it wasn’t what I thought.”

Yeah, she looks really uncomfortable all of asudden.

It’s not the embarrassed uncomfortable either, it’s more like…well I don’t know. Anyways, my point is that this is getting a little to deep for my liking as well. Definitely time to change the subject. “Did you like it when I kissed you last week?”

She bites her lip and shrugs. “It was nice.”

“Oh,” I frown at her response. Sometimes I hate how indifferent she can be. “Well…okay.”

“Why, what about you?”

“It was nice,” I agree, repeating her words. Hey—I’m not about to say it was some mind-fucking-blowing experience when she just went off and described it as ‘nice.’

I don’t even have to remind her that it’s her turn before she’s throwing another question my way. “Tell me, how do you honestly feel about me?”

I stare at her a moment. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me, awaiting my response. I sigh and reach out to touch her face. “I like you, Chloe. I like you a lot,” I whisper, sweetly.

She smiles and then at once, she’s doing something I have never, ever expected her to do. It all seems to happen in a flash, and before I know it, Chloe is suddenly on my lap and we’re kissing each other. My hands roam up her sides, as my mouth moves against her own. I’m honestly sort of in shock that I’m making out with her right now, but mostly I’m just horny…

God, she feels so good.

My tongue slides inside her mouth, and just as it does, her legs that are wrapped around my waist start to grip me even tighter. I feel one of her hands gently caressing my cheek, while the other is massaging my neck. Mmm…she knows how to fucking kiss, that’s for sure...

I wanna feel more of her skin.

I really need to.

And just as I’ve worked up enough courage to boldly slide my hands beneath her top, something suddenly stops me. Fuck, and it’s not Chloe either. God, how I wish it was her…but it’s not.

It’s—it's Chris’ voice.

Chris’ angry, loud voice.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I hear the question bang throughout my head.

Chloe immediately lets go of me. As we swiftly pull away from one another, I struggle to catch my breath. My heart is beating so fast, I think that my chest might explode…unfortunately; I know that this should be the least of my worries right now.

Yes…yes, definitely the least of my worries.

Because what Chris just witnessed right now, me kissing Chloe, me touching Chloe—Oh God, to put it simply—he’s going to fucking kill me.

{Justin}

Why do I suddenly feel like I’m back in elementary school, making my way to the principle’s office for a good lecture? Chris isn’t saying a thing as I gingerly follow him towards his bedroom where we can have our little man-to-man “chat.”

Stuffing my hands inside my jeans pockets, I pass through his doorway and close it behind me. Chris is quiet for a moment. I don’t say anything either. I’m just standing here, waiting for what I know is about to come. I wonder what he’s going to do though. I mean, I know I’m going to get the warnings, the disapproval, but is he going to kill me too?

I hear him clear his throat, so I look up from the carpet, the spot I’ve been staring at since we walked through his door. He’s ready to start the lecture. I can tell he’s pissed, although I think I’ve seen him angrier than this before. Hopefully that’s a good sign that he’s not going to murder me?

“Justin,” he starts, calmly. “What the hell did I exactly just walk in on? Please tell me why I saw you kissing Chloe?”

Geez.

He didn’t have to say ‘you’ with such disgust, now did he?

I mean, there are a lot of people that I just don’t give a fuck about what they think of me, but Chris isn’t one of those people. He’s one of my best friends, and I’ve looked up to him for the entire five years that we’ve known each other.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, finally, lack of a better answer coming to mind.

“Sorry?” Chris asks, exasperated. He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, staring me in the face. “Look Justin, I know what’s going on here,” he states.

My heart rate immediately speeds up, and I’m sure my face has just paled. He knows? How could he know?

“You know…what?” I finally ask, hesitantly.

“I get it. Chloe’s a pretty girl. She’s smart. And she’s hard to get it. I’m not surprised that you want her, it makes sense to me. But I’m telling you this—warning you right now—to stay away from her Justin.”

I gulp at his harsh words. “Chris…” I instantly begin to protest. I mean, I can’t just let him tell me to stay away from her. I can’t stay away from her. I live with her. “You’re overreacting.”

His eyes narrow on me before he suddenly begins to pace the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally, after a few seconds, he stops. Regarding me once again, he says, “Justin, you know I trust you. I do. But I don’t trust you with her. I mean, ever since--”

I know what he’s about to say, so I stop him before it even leaves his mouth. Angrily, I snap, “Don’t even say her name to me, Chris. Don’t even fuckin’ say it.”

Chris knows me, and he knows my limits. He quickly nods his head apologetically before taking a seat on his bed. With a sigh, he runs his hand through his short black hair. “All I’m trying to say is that you’re different. I see you bringing all these hoes up in here all the time, and I don’t say anything ‘cus honestly, it’s your choice to do what you want. But Justin, the fact is you treat women like they are just a piece of ass anymore.”

Immediately, indignantly, I say to him, “I don’t treat women like a piece of ass!”

Chris is way out of line here.

Is that seriously what everyone really thinks about me?

Well, do you?

Chris gives me a ‘get real’ look. “C’mon, J. When is the last time you actually had genuine feelings for a girl? And I’m talking about a girl since…” he trails off, knowing good and well that I’ll snap again if he says that name.

I don’t answer him. I just stare at the wall instead. Man, I suddenly feel like shit. It’s always a nice thing to find out what someone truly thinks of you—this case being that my best friend really thinks I’m just a scummy bastard who treats women like ass.

I mean, okay. I know what you’re thinking. And yes, I admit I have treated err—a few women—not so great lately. But damn, it’s not like I don’t have a fucking heart either. I can be a nice guy. Just cause--

Chris’ voice is suddenly interrupting my thoughts and the silence that has come over the room, “Justin, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” he goes on, his voice a little more concerned. “I mean a lot guys go through this phase…and I’m sure you’ll grow out of it when you’re ready. But I’m sorry, best friends or not, I’m not going to allow you to treat Chloe that way. She’s not just some random slut coming home with you—she’s like my little sister.”

“Fine,” I say, my blue eyes boring into his own.

I mean he’s right. I should stay away from her. I’m just using her anyways, right? But I like her. I could be her friend. But I don’t care….she’s just a fucking, stupid bet. And I don’t need to be shot by Chris over a bet. Fuck, I should have never made the damn bet in the first place.

“Fine? Just like that? No arguing with me? No ‘fuck you Chris, I’m gonna do what I want?'”

I give him a crooked grin, pretending that I’m not bothered by what he’s just said to me in here. He doesn’t need to know. “Naw man, you’re right. I shouldn’t be messing with her like that. She’s our roommate,” I say. “And just so you know, all we ever did was kiss a few times.”

Chris looks relieved, as he stands up and reaches his hand out to give me the ‘guy-half-way-pat-hug thingy’ that girls are always making fun of. “Thanks man. I don’t want you to feel like I’m being a dick about this either; I’m just trying to look out for her—and even you J. I mean, Chloe’s not the type of girl you date for some fun. She’s the type you bring home to mom and marry. Know what I mean?”

I nod my head, my thoughts just a tad bit depressing. “Yeah, yeah—I know what you mean.”



****



{Chloe}

My knuckle raps against Justin’s bedroom door, as I impatiently wait for him to reply.

“Come in,” he finally calls out after a few seconds.

I crack the door open, poking my head inside. My eyes land on Justin, finding him perched against the pillows on his bed, a text book lying in his lap. He looks up from what he’s reading and I smile, noticing he has on reading glasses.

I didn’t know he wore glasses. He looks cute—smart. He also looks surprised that I’m the one to be at his door. “Hey, can I come in?” I ask sweetly.

He nods his head, and I quickly shut the door behind me as I shuffle towards his bed. He watches me, as I cautiously take a seat on the edge of his mattress. My gaze lands on his face as I begin a conversation. “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I comment, smiling at him.

Justin hastily reaches up, as if he’s just remembered they were on, and takes them off. “Oh yeah…well only when I read,” he explains, quietly. “I know I look like a dork in them.”

“No…you actually look really cute in them,” I find myself immediately blurting out.

He gives me a small smile and shrugs. “Thanks.”

Now I’m not claiming to be the almighty, all-knowing Justin Timberlake expert, but something about him seems…well, off I guess. Since the first day I’ve met him, I’ve never known him to be so…quiet and well…modest even? I mean normally, he would jump up at the fact that I called him cute, probably going on to say that he was better than cute, that he was fine. He would want to know why I was here, knocking on his bedroom door.

But right now, he’s just quiet. Staring at whatever he’s staring at. I sigh and look down at the opened text book lying on his lap. “So what were you reading?” I ask him.

“Um, just some stories for English.”

“Well, I’m proud of you!” I state, enthusiastically.

Justin’s face looks even more surprised than it had been when I said he looked cute just a while ago. He glances in my direction and asks, “You are?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “You know that I think getting an education is very important. So I’m glad to find that you are taking your studies seriously.”

He gives another small smile. “Oh—well thanks.”

Tilting my head to the side, I observe him with curiosity. “What’s wrong with you, Justin?”

“Me?” he asks. “Nothing. Why?”

“You sure?”

“Where’s Chris at?” he mentions, obviously avoiding my question. “He would kill us if he knew you were in here right now.”

“He’s out. Besides, who cares what he says? And what did he say to you anyways?” I ask him.

I’ve been curious as to what they talked about all day today. In case you’re wondering about the lecture I got, I’ll summarize it for you real quick, so as not to bore you. Here’s the gist of it:

Chris oh-so-nicely told me, “you mess with fire, you’re gonna get burned.”

He thinks I’m idealistic, and that I need to realize that I can’t “change” a person. (If that’s what I’m trying to do with Justin, he wasn’t really sure why I was taking sudden interest in him.)

He said I shouldn’t mess with Justin because Justin is confused and isn’t ready for a relationship right now.

Blah blah blah.

Mainly, Chris just doesn’t want me to be romantically involved with Justin—at all.

Of course, I agreed with him, but I really didn’t take it to heart much. Now don’t get me wrong, I do love Chris to death and I do wholeheartedly value his advice. And I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but…I mean, I have a deal to keep…right?

So anyways…

I watch as Justin shrugs his shoulders at my question. He slides the text book off his lap, sticking it on the side of his bed. “So—what’d he say?” I pry again, as he still hasn’t answered me yet.

“Basically just told me to stay away from you, that he doesn’t want us messing around,” he finally states, blankly.

I roll my eyes. “Oh gosh, he’s just being overprotective. What did you say?” I inquire once more.

I think I’ve noticed another annoying habit of Justin’s, besides licking his lips all the damn time; he sure does seem to be shrugging with indifference a whole hell of a lot. “I agreed that I wouldn’t.”

My jaw drops and I blink my eyes. He just agreed? I mean, ugh! I know he probably doesn’t really like me like he’s been saying, but why would he just listen to Chris anyways? That’s not like Justin. At least, not the Justin I know.

“You agreed?” I ask him, disbelievingly. “Why?”

Justin sighs, once again shifting his gaze away from me. “I can’t blame Chris for not wanting you to hook up with me, Chloe. I mean—I realize—I’m a jerk. I treat women like objects…I just use them. I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“And you’re just now realizing this?” I joke, raising an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t look amused. Pulling a Justin, I reach over and poke him in the side. “Oh come on, Justin. I was kidding. I mean—you’re actually serious about this?”

He shrugs.

Yes, a-fuckin’-gain.

“Just forget it…”

“You know,” I state, waiting till he looks at me before I continue, “The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. So see, you’re already making progress!”

I grin when I notice the corner of his mouth twitching. See? I knew I could make him smile.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic or something.”

“Seriously though,” I sober up. “If you know that you’re treating people bad and that you’re hurting them, then why don’t you just…stop? I bet you could even turn out to be a real sweetheart.”

“Ya think?” he asks.

“Of course,” I grin. “And besides, you know good and well that if you treat me badly—never mind Chris being pissed—I will seriously get on your ass.”

For the first time, Justin seems back to his normal, perverted self, as he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows at my previous comment. “But what if I want you to get on my ass?”

“Shaaaad up,” I warn him, teasingly. “You know what I meant. I don’t take your shit, and you know it.”

“God, I do know,” he replies, shuddering for effect. “I remember the first day I met you, the first time you yelled at me, just because I had freakin’ whistled at you when you walked by me with some boxes.”

I giggle at the memory. I never thought I’d find that moment amusing, but in retrospect, I guess it was kind of funny. Justin was utterly speechless that first time I opened up my mouth and gave him a piece of my mind. But hey, I was having a bad day, and he was being a pervert—something I’m beginning to realize may never entirely change. “Well you deserved it. You didn’t even know me!”

“I guess I probably did,” he admits. “I’m kinda glad you don’t take my shit though,” he adds as an afterthought.

“You are?” I ask him, skeptically. “Please. That’s why you always give attitude and argue right back with me, huh?”

“Well that’s cause you piss me off,” Justin says, grinning. “But I still like it. Secretly…I really like your feisty ass, Cruella.”

“Good,” I laugh. “And would you stop calling me that!”

“It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute. It’s mean,” I whine. “At least if you’re gonna give me a nickname, make it nice.”

“I’ll think about it,” Justin says.

Before I get the chance to argue, my stomach growls and I suddenly remember why I came to see him in the first place. So, changing the subject, I ask, “Hey, I’m really hungry. Do you wanna order a pizza and watch a movie with me or something?”

Justin scratches his chin, pretending as though he’s contemplating my question. “I dunno…you promise you won’t touch me when we watch the movie?”

I immediately scoff at him. “You wish!”

He grins. “Good, ‘cause I promised Chris that we wouldn’t—”

“What Chris doesn’t know, won’t hurt him,” I interrupt him, evilly.

Justin adamantly shakes his head. “No really, we mad a promise, Chloe. So I think we should just—”

Before he can finish his sentence, I once again interrupt him. Only this time it’s not with my words, but instead with my kiss.

I don’t know what possessed me to just lean down and start kissing him, but I just did it. And I don’t even know why I’m beginning to find him attractive….

I know I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, but I certainly am anyways….

I can’t help it….

Justin really is a good kisser.

And plus he smells really good all the time.

My hands are resting on his cheeks, and I love how his skin feels. His lips keep moving against my own, responding to my touch. I know he just said we shouldn’t be doing this, but that kinda just makes me want it even more.

Finally pulling away, I take a second to catch my breath. Then I lean over and softly kiss a spot on Justin’s neck, close to his ear, before whispering, “That’s okay…you’re my little secret.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, tugging me away from him so that he can look at my face. “Am I?”

I look in his sparkling blue eyes and answer him, “Yes…if you want to be.”

I get my answer pretty quickly. Before his mouth is on my own again, he whispers, “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

{Chloe}

"God, I love this place," Elise says, her eyes scoping out the basketball court full of men.

Don't ask me why I allowed her to drag me along on this little escapade of hers, because I really don't have a good excuse as to why I'm here right now. I do have to admit; the scenery ahead isn't quite so hard on the eyes, not hard at all in fact.

So really, this isn't at all as bad as I had originally thought it was going to be. I don't recognize much of the guys out on the court, but fuck if half of them don't have the most perfect, gorgeous bodies--and best of all, these gorgeous, perfect bodies are all free of charge to stare at. (And no, I don't usually take pride in sitting on a bench like a hooched-out groupie, drooling over boys playing sports, but hey--there's always one time for everything, right?)

"I could sit here all day and not get bored," Lisa, one of Elise's friends, comments next. "The guy with the ball right now--he's fine."

I look at the guy Lisa is talking about and nod my head in agreement. "Yeah, he really is."

"Oh, Jesus," Elise suddenly exclaims, causing my eyes to break away from the unknown-hottie. "Look who just got here. Eww--what an asshole! I forgot I met him here..."

I scan the court, wondering what the hell she's ranting about. And then I know. It’s him. As soon as I see him, my stomach immediately launches into a pathetic set of butterflies. I quickly turn my gaze back to Elise. "What if he sees us together?" I ask her, worriedly.

"Well, we can't just get up and go," she replies, calmly. "That'll be way obvious. You'll just have to tell him we're friends if he says anything."

I nod my head. "Yeah, I guess you're right..."

"Chloe, do you know what Darnell is like?" Lisa asks, not much interested in mine and Elise’s issues. "Does he come over to your house a lot? And if so, can I move in with you?"

I giggle and shrug my shoulders at her, "Well, I don't know him really well or anything, but he's always been really nice to me. I wouldn’t know how often he's at our place either, because I'm at work and stuff half the time. But yeah, him and Trace are usually around now and again."

"Remind me to stop by sometime then."

"I will.”

"Isn't it weird living with all guys?" she asks, next. "Aren't they dirty and stuff?"

"Well, I never really did get along with girls much anyway--so um--"

I stop my sentence short, as I feel a sudden urge to look up. I soon realize why, as my surprised eyes meet with Justin's from across the court. He's watching me with a bewildered expression on his face. Not knowing what to do, wondering what's he thinking about, I just give him a tiny smile and then wave at him. As quickly as the bewildered look appeared on his face, it quickly disappears, and is instead replaced with a confident smirk. Then, much to my utter humiliation, he flirtatiously winks and blows a kiss in my direction before turning back to his buddies as if our little exchange had never happened.

God, I really hope no one saw that. I bet I am blushing right now, too. How pathetic am I? I'm so, so pathetic. I need to stop. Really...

"Aww."

Fuck. I knew it. Someone did see. And lucky me, that someone is sitting right next to me.

Lisa nudges me with her shoulder, a grin on her face. "How adorable was that? He blew you a kiss! I knew you two lived together, but I didn't know you were together..."

"Oh, we aren't..."

"They aren't together," Elise finishes, blandly. Then, she adds excitedly, "Wow, Chloe, you seriously need to thank me for forcing you to wear a skirt today! That guy with the red t-shirt is totally checking you out over there. He keeps looking in your direction. I'm jealous."

"Oh, whatever...he is not. He's probably looking at you, and you just..."

"Oh my god, he wants you to come over there, Chlo! Look, look, look!"

Reluctantly, I scan the court again, ready to roll my eyes as I prove her completely wrong. Only I don't ever get around to the whole rolling my eyes part because Elise is, in fact, not exaggerating for once in her life. There seriously is a guy in a red t-shirt, looking in my direction, holding his hand up and beckoning me to come over to him. Hastily bringing my eyes away from the strange man, I nervously say to the girls, "Oh shit, you guys. We have to leave before he comes over here!"

"Oh hell no, we're going over there!" Elise argues, eagerly. She begins to stand up, tugging on my arm and nodding at Lisa to come along. "C'mon, girls. This will be fun, and then maybe he'll ask you out on a date or something, and then you'll have wild, hot sex, and then..."

"But what about the deal?" I whine, interrupting her at once.

Fuck, I wonder what Justin would think if he noticed me talk to him. He's playing ball with his friends right now though, and I'm sure he doesn't pay that much attention to me anyways, so I doubt he will. But still. Would he be mad? Probably not...

"Chloe, the deal has nothing to do with you getting laid by this beautiful man, who we are almost, nearly, about to be standing right in front of.....” she mumbles, just before we meet face-to-face with red t-shirt guy. “Hi there, I'm Elise...and these are my friend’s…Lisa and Chloe," she introduces, happily sticking her hand out to shake his own.

"Such petty names for such pretty girls," he comments, sweetly. "And I'm Alex, by the way."

I give him a nervous smile, shaking the hand that he has now outstretched towards me, as he reveals his name. He has a cute smile....oh God, what does that even matter right now? I feel so ridiculous, standing here in front of him on the sidelines of the court, with no idea whatsoever as to what I should say next. Elise's hand suddenly nudges me forward a little, and I scathingly look over my shoulder to give her a dirty glare for doing so.

Red t-shirt guy chuckles at this, tilting his head to the side, as I turn back around and smile at him again. Finally, he clears his throat and begins to talk in a low tone, "So um, listen--I know you probably get this a lot, but I've been watching you since you got here with your friends, and you're just so damn intriguing, that I had to ask you if you'd think about giving me a call sometime."

I'm pretty much speechless, as he reaches over and opens up my hand, slipping a small piece of paper inside. He closes my fingers around it, smiling shyly. "So yeah....I’d love to hear from you sometime."

Well, first of all, no, I really don't get that a lot. I guess I'll just keep that to myself though. I mean, no need to let him know this little bit, right? Right.

"Okay, sure, I guess," I reply, giving him a polite smile and nod of my head. There's an awkward pause of silence that follows for a few seconds, before finally, "Well...thank you for...you know, asking..." I add, finishing off our conversation rather lamely, if I do say so myself.

Not even a moment later, and I am hurriedly turning around, quite ready to leave the oh-so-wonderful basketball court of beautiful men. As I drag a giggling Elise and Lisa towards the exit, I wonder to myself how in the hell they got me to go down and talk to that guy in the first place.



****



{Justin}

"Did you call him?" I ask, as I burst inside her bedroom door, crossing my arms over my chest and staring her down.

Chloe looks up from her book, rolling her eyes at my arrival. "Ever heard of knocking, Justin?" she asks me, sardonically.

"Yeah, but did you call him?" I repeat once more. I can't believe this. I seriously wanted to shoot that guy when I saw him hitting on her. Sure, I vaguely know who he is, and sure, we've balled it up a few times in the past, and sure I never had a problem with him before---but no. I don't care. I don't like the fucker anymore. Nope, no more Mr. Nice Guy--especially not when he's going to go and just fucking hit on my girl right in front of my face and shit.

"Chloe," I whine, walking towards her bed and taking a seat. She has now gone back to reading her book and is purposely ignoring me, but I'm not gonna let her get off that easily. "You called him, didn't you?"

She glances up from her book and rolls her eyes at me. "I don't know, Justin. What if I did call him? Then what?"

"So you did call him!" I exclaim, disgustedly. "God, I knew it."

Tell me why I feel like hurling? I wonder what they talked about. Probably something stupid...or probably…they had phone-sex together. Oh shit, I hope not…

"Justin, just use your brain here for a minute, okay? I just met the damn guy less than two hours ago. You don't actually think I rushed home and called him, do you?"

"Maybe," I reply, indignantly, pouting my lip out at her.

Chloe laughs, shaking her head at me. (As if she thinks I'm ridiculous or something. Grr--she should feel sorry for me.)

"Oh god, you're jealous, aren't you?" she states, matter-of-factly.

My jaw tightens, as I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming 'yes, of course I am' to her face. Suddenly, I notice something out of the corner of my eye, and it immediately gives me an idea. Without another thought as to whether or not this is a good plan, I grab for her cell phone and flip it open. Stubbornly, I say, "Here, call him now then. I'll dial his number for you. Then you can stop calling me jealous."

Chloe scoffs at me. "You're ridiculous! I'm not calling him right now," she says.

"No, seriously, Chloe," I insist, nodding my head at her. "Just tell me the damn number, and then I'll hand it to you so you can talk to him. You should seriously call him."

Yeah-fucking-right she should call that bastard. Of course, I'm just saying all of this to prove a point. And of course, she won't actually agree to call him, right? I mean, she's not gonna call that asshole. Why would she want to?

"So?" I finally prod, expectantly watching her face. "The number?"

"Fine! If you want me to call him that bad, then I will," Chloe snaps, annoyed. She gives me a dirty look, that one she gives me when I've pissed her off or gotten onto her bad side. Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out the crumpled piece of paper he apparently wrote his number on. Did I mention he was a bastard?

I wince as she begins to read off his digits, disappointed that she's actually gonna go through with this and call him. What a jerk. I bet he just wants to fuck her and use her, anyways. And before you get on my ass, things are different now. Sure, I still wanna fuck Chloe, but she's my friend now, too. So hey--I'm at least a little better than this other stupid fuck, alright?

Reluctantly handing the phone over to her, I scoot close enough so I can hear what's going on. What the hell is taking so long for him to answer? After three, long, torturous rings, I just can't take it anymore, so I quickly grab for the phone and pull it away from her ear. I close it shut and toss it to the side of her bed before I lean over and wrap my arms around her from the side. "Okay okay okay--I'm jealous! Fuck! Please don't do it cupcake, please don't call him!" I plead dramatically, not realizing till after the words leave my mouth, just how pathetic they really sound.

Chloe giggles and pushes my head away from her shoulder. "Alright, geez! I won't call him. Just calm yourself down, Buster."

"Really?" I perk up.

"Yes, really."

Ha!

Too bad for him...he's not gonna get to hear from her.

Oh well though.

My mission is accomplished and I'm happy again. All thoughts of what's-his-face quickly leave my mind, as I lean down and give her an appreciative kiss on the cheek, "Thank you. You're the best, cupcake."

"That's the second time you've called me that today."

I grin at the observation. "I know, it's your new nickname," I explain to her, proudly. "You said Cruella was too mean, so cupcake is as nice as it gets baby."

"Eh," Chloe immediately pulls a face of distaste. "Cupcake is kinda of--sexist--don't ya think?"

I give her the same 'eww' face she just gave me, as I throw my hands up in the air. "Women! You can never please them, I swear. First I'm too mean, then I'm actually being nice for once, and I get called a sexist. Fine! You pick one or the other, or make your own, cause I'm not gonna try to...”

"Oh Jesus Justin! Have a heart attack over it, why don't you?" she exclaims, interrupting my small rant. "Fine. I guess I do like cupcake a little better than freakin' dumb Cruella--even if cupcake is sexist," she adds, pointedly.

I sigh, falling back onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling with resignation. She's the most argumentative, feisty woman I know, that's for damn well sure. "Okay kay, whatever you say cupcake, whatever you say..."



****



{Justin}

Twenty minutes later, and I'm still lying on her bed and 'bugging' her, as she is 'trying to read with my loud, obnoxious ass in her way.' At least that's how she likes to describe the situation anyhow. We all know she really likes flirting with me though, and she just loves that I'm in here with her--she just can't admit it out loud. It's okay though, because even though she's ignoring me every now and then for her book, just being close to her while she does her thing sort of intrigues me. And besides, it's better than being all alone in the living room, right?

Of course.

In my boredom, I suddenly notice the device that I earlier discarded onto her bed, as well as a slip of paper that needs to be trashed lying right next to it. I slowly reach for both items, hastily tucking away the fucker’s number into my jean pocket, hoping she doesn't notice or look up from her reading while I'm doing so. I mean, it wouldn’t really be my fault if I just accidentally deleted him out of her call history, and then just accidentally lost the slip of paper with his number on it as well, now would it?

Honestly, accidents happen sometimes, so what can ya do?

So anyways...now that I've got her cell phone back in my possession again, I begin to do some browsing. I start by sifting through all the phone numbers in her cell phone. It doesn't take long before I'm asking questions. "Who's James?" I wonder, looking up at her curiously. "And why aren't I in your phone book?" I add, wounded.

She stops reading and glances at me while I continue to lie on my back, holding her phone in front of my face. "Um...he's a friend from home. And I don't know...I just haven't saved your number?"

"Well, why not?" I persistently whine.

"Justin, it's not like I have trouble getting ahold of you if need be. We do live together, in case you've forgotten," she explains, sarcastically. "And you're in my call history anyways."

I don't much notice her answering me though, because I'm already being nosy some more, this time looking through her text messages. Once again, it doesn't take long before I'm asking a question. "Hey....what the hell is this?" I demand, accusingly. "What loser wrote: 'hey beautiful. just thinking about you and wanted to say hi. can't wait till you get off work. see you later'..."

"Um, you did, I think?"

My eyes finally scan the number that sent the message, as I let out an embarrassed chuckle, noticing that it indeed was me who sent that text. "Oh....right."

Chloe looks up from her book again, shakes her head, and then laughs at me. "You're such an idiot, Justin."

"Well, I sent that like a week ago," I defend. "And besides, you didn't even save my number, so I didn't recognize it right away," I add, bitterly.

"Yeah, yeah...are you done messing around with my phone yet?" she asks.

"No," I grin. "I'm saving my number first and then downloading a special ringtone for when I call you."

"Oh Lord. Why?" she immediately complains. "I don't give people special ringtones. And you don't see me going through your cell phone, now do you?"

"Here," I say, pulling it out of my pocket and tossing it towards her side of the bed. "Go ahead then."

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Chloe gives me a look that says 'get real' while she stares down at my phone. Finally, she decides to pick it up and look anyways. Yeah, that's what I thought...

"Well then, I'll just go ahead and download a song for you too," she mutters, flipping my phone open.

A few minutes later, I'm scanning through artist and song titles to download when she interrupts my thoughts and squeals, "Ugh, Justin!"

"What?"

"You have a picture of some hoe's tits in your phone?!"

My face flushes. Shit. She was looking at the pictures I have on my phone. I forgot about--err--that one. "Umm...Trace took it, I swear!" I immediately say, first explanation coming to head, mind you. "I don't even know the girl...she just flashed us and..."

"Please," Chloe quickly holds up her hand to stop me from going on. "I don't even wanna know."

"I thought you were downloading a song for me," I change the subject, furrowing my brow at the screen on her phone.

Hmm.....what song to chose?

"Aww, who's this?" she asks, holding up my phone and showing me the screen.

"Oh. That's my little brother."

"Aww--he's so cute."

A few seconds later, "Aww, is this your mom?" she asks, referring to another picture.

Damn. I've never heard Chloe coo so much in my life.

"Yes. That's my mommy," I confirm, proudly.

Suddenly, she starts to giggle.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "What? What's so funny?"

"It's just funny how you can have all these sweet pictures of your family, and then there's one picture of some girl's naked breasts in there, too. So nice, Justin, so nice."

"Hey, you want me to add another to the collection?" I suggest, enthusiastically. "You could always strip for me... I'd be glad to take your photo. And I bet you have nicer tits than her, too!" I add, happily.

A pillow immediately smacks me over the head. "Pssh, you wish! Only in your dreams, horny."

"Yeah, true. But at least I can dream, right?" I contemplate. "Oh...here's my song."

Ashanti's "Only You" starts playing from her phone, as I sing along with my own rendition, "Only Justin can make you feel...and only Justin can take you there..."

"Oh hell no!" Chloe says, giggling at my silly antics. "You don't actually expect me to leave that on there for you, do you?"

"Yes! Why not? It's a good song, and the lyrics go well with our relationship," I state. "Now what did you pick for me?"

"Umm...hang on," she says. "Okay, yeah, I got it. These lyrics also go very well with our relationship," she grins, before winking at me.

"Mmkay...what is it?"

The song starts to play, and I instantaneously begin to pout at her choice of ringtone.

In much the same way as I did before, Chloe sings to me while the song plays, "If you're lookin' for the goodies… keep on lookin' cause they STAY in the jar...ooooh-oooh-oooh."

I frown at her and tug at her pant leg when she's through. "Hey girl, that was mean! Very, very mean."

"My goodies...my goodies...not my goodies!" Chloe says, smacking my arm away, laughing at her own joke.

God, she's a dork...

But a cute dork, none-the-less.

{Justin}

It's been three weeks.

Three fucking weeks since we decided to sneak around, and already I think I'm on the dangerous brink of reaching insanity. It's true. Unfortunately, I'm not lying here, and unfortunately, I'm not being overly dramatic either.

You see, in just three weeks' time, I've managed to completely go and fuck up my head. Wait, I take that back. What I meant to say was this--that in just three weeks' time, she's managed to go and completely fuck up my head.

I swear to you though....it's all her fault that this is happening to me.

It's all her fucking fault...

Tossing over for what seems to be the hundredth time tonight, I stare up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Have you ever been extremely exhausted and tried to go to bed, but no matter what, you just couldn’t turn your brain off? You know what I'm talking about...when you're so damn miserably tired, but even despite this, you just can't make yourself fall asleep? Yeah, well--that's exactly what's happening to me right now. That's how I feel; more than anything, I just want sleep to come to me right now, and it's just not fucking coming.

And you know what?

I'm telling you this again--it's all her damn fault.

I honestly don't know what's happening to me here. And I don't even know how to begin to explain it to you. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about her; no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do to forget about her, if even for just a while--it doesn't work.

I don't know what the hell Chloe Marin has done to me, but I don't like it--I don't like it at all. I want this problem go away. And I want it to go away quickly.

It all started off gradual, you know. In the beginning I was okay with everything, and then...once again, in just three weeks, it's seems as though I've suddenly lost my fuckin' mind. It's like now I'm obsessed with the girl or something. And even though I don't really know why I am feeling like this or why this is happening to me all of the sudden, I have a faint idea…

So you wanna know my thoughts or what? I know you do. Well, here goes, I'll tell you what I think:

I think Chloe Marin is evil. Yes, behind those sweet brown eyes, and that cute little smile of hers, lies a pure, unadulterated evil inside that girl. I also think, perhaps, she's maybe even a witch! Yes, a witch, and she's somehow put her spell on me. Or better yet....maybe she's cursed me. Yes, that's exactly it! She's cursed me---I just know it, because even though it sounds a bit crazy, it's the only logical explanation to any of this madness going on inside of me, right?

Now, before you go and start accusing me of being a psychopathic, overly-dramatic idiot, at least give me a chance to explain what's been going on lately, okay?

Okay. Well, last week is when it all started…

My problem wasn't huge at this point, but it was definitely starting to become apparent to me that in fact, I did have a problem...

You see, last week, I suddenly realized that something horribly, horribly wrong was going on inside of me. I mean, ever since Chris had that talk with me about how I treat women badly, I've pretty much been staying away from any contact (other than brief and distant) when it comes to the female race. (And God, you don't know how hard that was for me at first, but eventually I got okay with it.) And there was, of course, this one exception to my sudden avoidance of women: and her name was Chloe.

Now other than heavy making out though, my physical relationship with Chloe really hasn't progressed any further. Not because I don't want it to, but of course, because she won't let anything else happen. I mean, I'm talking no sex here at all people! Just plain, old-fashioned making-out sessions. (God damn her for having so much self-control.)

But anyway, you must understand something; when someone such as myself, who is used to having sex and getting way more sloppy than first base with a woman on a weekly basis is suddenly deprived…well, you can only imagine how tortured I was feeling inside when all Chloe and I were doing was kissing. I'm not saying that I didn't love the making-out with her, I'm just saying that like any other horny male might eventually do with lack of sex, I finally cracked one night.

So I guess that's when I found myself in Alex's room in this tortured tale I'm reliving with you. It was a Thursday night, and there I was, laying on her bed, kissing her neck, her shoulders... (And hey, before you even go and decide to hate on me and call me the scum of the earth, just try and remember---I was so, so horny when I decided to go and see Alex, that I truly wasn't even thinking clearly. I swear!)

Anyhow, enough of why I went to see her, because that's really not what matters here; what matters is what happened to me when I was finally about to get laid that night. Right…so there I was, messing around with Alex. We're all alone, and she was definitely all ready for me to fuck her--and suddenly, what happens?

I start to notice these things--these bad, bad things in my head. For instance, the way she was kissing me. It wasn't that she was a bad kisser or anything, but I just couldn’t shake these thoughts that I wish it was Chloe I was kissing instead of her, because Chloe....well kissing her was just so, so different. At that point, I knew I was just being stupid, and so I naturally tried to push the whole comparing her kissing to Chloe out of my head right away.

This worked for a while.

I even managed to get her topless without worrying about it anymore. But then, all at once, I made the stupidest, dumbest mistake of them all. And I hadn't even realized I was saying it until her name was softly rolling off my tongue…

Alex immediately pulled away from me, her face contorted in annoyance. "What did you just call me?" she had asked.

Shit. Right then, I knew I had blown my one and only chance of getting laid that night. I quickly began to lamely stutter above her, "I--I'm sorry--I didn't mean..."

All of a sudden, her care-free giggles were interrupting my shallow apologies, as I stared down at her with a perplexed look on my face. "What's so funny?"

She rolled her eyes, running her hand against my crotch area. "Don't worry about it, silly. You can call me Chloe....hell, call me Shaniqua for all I care, just as long as you fuck me while you're saying it."

Normally, I probably would have obliged her request. Normally, I would have nodded and proceeded to fuck the tramp's brains out before leaving quicker than she could utter, "wait, stay longer?" So please God, tell me why I found myself quickly jumping off her that night? Why I zipped my pants up and ditched that easy lay goodbye as fast as I could?

Well, I already know why. And I already told you why.

It's Chloe.

Don't you see now, how she's fucked me all up?

Three weeks later, and it's even worse than that night at Alex's. It's literally to the point now where I can't even stand to hang around with other girls, because either they aren't as smart as Chloe, aren't as sarcastic and witty as Chloe, aren't as funny as Chloe, aren't as sexy as Chloe--well, you get the fucking point, don't you?

I can't have Chloe, and it's literally killing me inside.

Especially right now, when I'm stuck sleepless in my dark room, knowing that she's fast asleep next door--and God damn my dick is aching for her like no other. God, all I'd have to do is get up and slip inside her room, and wake her up....but, yeah right. Like she'd ever let that happen. I have to admit that Chloe has surprised me in many ways when it comes to her sexuality, but she's still not going to surprise me that much. I think finding out that she wasn't a virgin threw me for a big enough loop already this week. I mean, I don't know why I always assumed she was some prude when we used to hate each other, but I guess I really didn't know her.....

But shit, sometimes when I'm with her, I just want so bad to lay her down and fuck her so good. It hurts to even think about while I'm this worked up, but I can't help myself. It's different, though, because Chloe is my only option now, she's the only woman I want at the moment. I didn't want Alex that night, obviously, and I realize now that no one else is going to do it for me until I have Chloe first. My mind has been made up--it's set on her, my roommate, sleeping right in the next fucking room...

Finally succumbing to my train of thoughts, and my want for her, I slowly let my hand creep into my pajama pants. Shit, this is horrible. There's only so many times a guy can whack off and still be satisfied, you know? I want the real fucking thing....and I don't how much longer I can wait for it. Closing my eyes, my hand goes to work while I try to come up with some more explanations for this madness...

I mean, I know she's just a bet--fucking her is just a bet I want to win, and that's mainly why I want her so bad--but I still just can't shake the feelings that there's more to it than that. That I'm letting myself become a little too consumed with the thought of having her.

But then I always start to think better of things; I start to rationalize the reasons why I want her so badly. I keep telling myself it is the bet. It's because I have to be so secretive with her, and I know I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing with her. It's just because she plays so hard to get. It's because her and I are not meant to be, and by us fucking, we would be defying all the rules. Or maybe it's just like I told you before--she's cursed me, she's put some sort of magical spell on me that makes her stay on my mind 24/7.

Basically, it's every other reason besides that fact that I genuinely care for her.

Because that's just not the case.

It's not.

My breath catches in my throat, and I can feel my body heating up with perspiration. Damn when did it get so hot in this room? I just want to sleep. I want a release...my hand quickens in speed....

"Fuck-shit," I mumble, picturing in my mind what it'd be like to inside of her...God, once I fuck her....once I win the bet....well, all these horrible and consuming thoughts of her are going to finally disappear from my head...I know it...I know it. They will have to. And then I'll be able to go back to being me, the normal Justin that enjoys a casual fuck, even if it's with some girl that is just a tad bit idiotic...

But then there's just this one last problem that I have with it all. (Well, besides the fact that I'm extremely horny and have no one to fuck at the moment. Nothing that my hand isn't fixing for me right now, though.)

So yeah....my other, more prominent problem...this nagging fear that keeps creeping into my head. These questions that keep resurfacing every time I try to assure myself that Chloe is just a bet, and I'll be done obsessing over her when I win the bet:

What if the exact opposite happens to me after we fuck? I mean, say Chloe and I do sleep together--and say my plan backfires on me--then what happens? What happens if I don't want to go back to the girls that are a tad bit idiotic after Chloe? What happens if sleeping with her turns out....well, not to be enough?



****



{Chloe}

"Oh fuck yes--stay right there," he moans, softly.

I smirk to myself, roughly kneading my hands into his back. I warned him before we started this that most people hated when I gave them massages because I was so rough when giving them. He said he could handle it though, and admittedly, he's proving me right so far. There's still been a few times where he's squirmed and whimpered beneath me, and I definitely haven't missed the way his body seems to resist my touch now and again, as he occasionally attempts to dip his weight further down into the mattress.

Anyway, Justin's head is lying above his crossed arms, as I sit on top of him, doing my nice deed for the day. And no, I haven't gone suddenly insane and fallen so madly in love with the boy that I would do anything for him, such as giving him this massage. (Rather, I'm just being nice because I felt sorry for him when he came home and complained about how bad his body ached from the rough time he'd had at the gym today.)

"Am I hurting you enough for you to want me to stop yet?" I question him brightly, rubbing his bare shoulders with my hands.

"Mmm---not yet," he pleads. "I don't want this--oooh---"

I hit a sore spot, I suppose.

"--this torture to stop quite yet."

"Mmkay," I respond, my hands complying with his requests. Justin's skin is smooth and silky, and I can feel some of the knots in his muscles slowly disappearing from my work. His breathing is just slightly abnormal as he continues to enjoy the massage. Suddenly, a thought comes to my head, as I briefly recall that we forgot to lock his bedroom door before we started this little session. Chris would just have a heart attack if he came home and accidentally witnessed the whole scene, but I'm just having way too much fun listening to Justin's pleased moans and groans to really care enough to actually get up and lock the door.

"Chloeeeeee," Justin's voice finally comes again.

"What?" I ask him.

"Go lower please."

Obediently, I slide my hands lower on his back. "There?"

"No...lower," he whispers, huskily.

I trace my finger down his spine, as I once again rest my hands lower than before. "Better?"

"Just...a little....lower...."

Abruptly, I realize where he's going with this. I fight to stop myself from smiling at his obnoxiousness. "Oh," I say, emphatically. "You mean...right here?" I add, quickly slapping my palm against his pathetically small ass as hard as possible.

Justin's body immediately jumps, as he yelps at the harsh contact my hand just had on his skin. "Oww, woman! That fuckin' hurt!"

I laugh at his remark. Just as I'm about to tell him, "you get what you deserve," the ringing of my cell phone interrupts our conversation. I instantly crawl off of him, reaching for my phone which is lying on his nightstand. I glance at the caller ID and see that it's Elise. Making better of the situation, I decide that I should probably take this phone call somewhere else.

"I'll be right back," I mumble, hastily walking over to his door and shutting it behind me. "Hello?" I answer.

"Girl, you won't believe who I just spoke with."

"Um, who?" I ask quietly, slowly stepping inside of my own room. I hope Justin doesn't get up and follow me…

"Your secret admirer, of course! Well, he's not so secret, I suppose, but who cares anyways?"

I scrunch my nose up at her rambles. "What are you talking about Elise?" I ask, confused.

"Alex, duh!" she quickly explains, as if I'm an idiot for not realizing. "Remember the guy from last week, the one who just told me you never even called him back?" she squeals.

"Oh, yeah. Him."

"Chloe! I can't believe you didn't call him. Lucky for you, I just ran into him on campus--and I told him we'd meet up with him in like thirty minutes for lunch!"

"Elise!" I exclaim, annoyed. "Why?! I'm busy right now..."

"But you don't have work today," she pouts. "Please Chloe! C'mon! He's bringing his hot friend, too!"

I groan, looking over at the wall that separates mine and Justin's room. I guess I can go. I'll just have to tell him that something has come up, and I'll be back later. I doubt he'll care that much, anyway, right?

"Fine, but only for a little while. I have a lot of stuff to do today."



****



{Chloe}

As I am leaning down over the kitchen table and printing out a list off my lap top, I quickly glance behind my shoulder when I feel a presence. I notice Justin has stepped into the room and is raising his eyebrows at my computer screen. "What's that?" he asks me.

"A list of chores," I smirk, grabbing the paper from the printer and teasingly waving it in front of his face. "And I kindly cooked you, Chris, and your friend pancakes this morning for breakfast, so I don't even wanna hear it from you guys when you see this."

I notice Justin lick his lips before I happily begin to walk past him. I'm on my way towards the living room where Chris and Trace are playing their video games when I suddenly feel his arms wrap around me from behind, stopping my current movement. His hands rub up and down my arms, as he leans down and places a few soft kisses to my neck.

"Mmm--you're so beautiful," he whispers in my ear.

Despite myself, I melt at his words, at his touch. "Justin...we shouldn't..."

"Chloe..." I feel his tongue lap at my skin, then his cool breath blowing over it. "We should," he disagrees.

My eyes close, as my traitorous body goes lax against his own. His hands have now reached dangerous territory, as they are now gently grazing over my tank top covered breasts. My breath catches in my throat, as he suddenly brings his hands down and under my top, snaking his way towards where my bra clasp...

"Whoa, sorry!" Trace blurts out uncomfortably, as he suddenly appears through the kitchen doorway.

Our sensual moment has been completely shattered by his disturbance. I embarrassingly pull away from Justin, crossing my arms over my chest. "Err..."

"I was just gonna--uhh--get some milk, but uh---yeah---" he stutters, nervously.

Trace quickly turns to leave, and I'm extremely thankful when he's finally out of the kitchen again. My gaze falls upon Justin, and he winces when my frustrated eyes meet his own. "Shit Justin!"

"I didn't know he was gonna--"

"Well fuck, now what are we gonna do? We're lucky that wasn't Chris," I say, exasperated.

Justin takes a deep breath before speaking calmly. "Listen, Trace isn't gonna say anything. Don't worry about it cupcake," he assures quietly. Grabbing my chin and placing a soft peck on my lips, he pulls away and adds, "Come on, come show me and Chris the list, and we'll start cleaning."

I frown at him, but obey his requests anyway.

And I grin as we both walk into the living room, keeping our distance, pretending as though nothing just happened between the two of us.



****



{Justin}

"You lucky motherfucker."

I glance over at Trace as he follows me towards my bedroom. I'm about to grab some laundry and start on this whole cleaning thing. "What?" I whisper.

"How the fuck are you doing it?" he contemplates, disbelievingly. "I swear to God, I thought you were gonna lose this bet--"

"Shut the fuck up, dude," I say, shoving him inside my room and shutting the door behind us. "Don't talk about that shit when people can hear," I hiss.

"Sorry man! Calm down."

"I'm calm. I just can't have that shit coming out, though."

Trace raises an eyebrow. "Why not?"

My eyes roll in my head as I throw my hands up. "Fuck, Trace, do you know that Chris would beat my ass if he knew about that shit?! Jesus Christ!" I say.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you're getting so defensive?" he counters.

I can't believe him. He's acting stupid. "Stop fuckin' around with me man, of course that's it!"

Trace shrugs. Ignoring the situation altogether, I hastily begin picking up some of my dirty clothes off the floor.

I listen as he finally changes the subject, "Well man, I think I'm gonna roll out. Much as I'd love to stick around and help you clean," he starts, snickering at the idea of that being true. "Well, anyways...what time are we going out tonight? There's gonna be a sick party at the---"

"I can't tonight," I interrupt, quietly, throwing my clothes into a laundry basket.

"What are you talking about?"

"I already have plans with Chloe," I mumble, avoiding eye contact with him. I just know he's gonna start in on some shit now, and I honestly don't wanna hear it from him.

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" he asks me.

"No..."

He chuckles and asks sarcastically, "So what are you two love-birds doing tonight?"

I can feel my face grow hot. I don't want to say it. I don't want to say it. God, I hate Trace sometimes. I mean he's my best friend and all, sure, but why does he have to be so God-dammed nosy? And why did he have to walk in on me and Chloe right when I was finally getting to feel her fucking tits for once in my life? Bastard...

"Um....to play bingo," I cough, ambiguously.

"To do what?" he pries again.

"To play bingo!" I say, loudly this time.

It's only a matter of seconds before Trace is hunched over on my bed, laughing and snorting uncontrollably. Really, it isn't all that fucking funny in my opinion. I wait a few minutes before I say, "Dude, shut the fuck up already. It’s not that funny."

Trace wipes a tear from his eye and looks at me. "Damn, Justin. I think you're taking this bet just a tad bit too far here, don't you buddy? I mean, bingo--that's where I'd draw the fucking line," he comments, at last.

"Look, it's not a big fuckin' deal," I snap. "Bingo isn't that bad."

"Damn, J!" Trace exclaims again, even more so amused. "Nevermind all that bet nonsense...I mean, can we say pussy whipped?”

"Fuck you."

"Shit, you are, aren't you?" he claims, staring at me like I've grown another head.

"Stop talking shit, Trace. You know she's just a fucking bet," I dismiss his words, quite annoyed with the nerve he has to be saying all this. He needs to go away; I’m not in the mood. "And I'm trying to clean here, so I'll call you later,” I say, hoping he’ll take the hint.

Trace nods. "Fine.”

He gets up to leave, and just as he's walking out the door, he adds, "Have fun with the whole bingo thing. And just so you know, you may as well not try and deny it—‘cause it's completely obvious that you're sprung off her."

He grins and waves his hand, closing the door before I can even argue.

{Chloe}

Shelly nudges my shoulder, hanging up the phone and pointing to the corner where he’s been sitting for the past two hours. He’s got a notebook lying in front of him on the table, and his baseball cap is tilted to the side, as he leans down and furiously writes whatever it is that he’s writing. He’s had about four cups of coffee now, and I notice the effect, as his left leg is bouncing up and down, probably to some unknown rhythm in his head. He looks like such a little college student, with his University of Chicago hoodie on, his paperwork sprawled in front of him.

“Your boyfriend is too cute,” she comments, giddily.

I smile at my co-worker, ready to tend to my next table. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I explain once again. I casually walk past the middle-aged woman and have to smile to myself when she just shrugs and winks at my response to her comment. I’ve told Shelly this bit of information for the past four days that we’ve worked together now, but she just can’t seem to accept it, because every day he’s in here, I always seem to find her saying to me, “Your boyfriend is so cute, Chloe”--- or something along the lines of that.

You see, Justin has been coming into the coffee shop a lot lately. He usually comes a few hours before my shift is over, and he’ll just sit there and do his home-work and read, waiting for me to get off work before we walk home together. Believe me, at first, I didn’t like it. I told him he was a distraction. But now…well, I must admit, it’s kinda nice actually. It gives me something to look forward to at the end of the day, as disgusting and cheesy as that may sound to you. And anyway, it’s not like I have much of a say in the matter, because let’s face it; Justin doesn’t ever listen to orders. If you tell him not to do something, that’ll just more than likely guarantee that he’s going to do it to spite you.

Anyway, thank God my shift is almost over.

I’m so glad that I don’t have to close tonight because I am seriously starving right now. I glance down at my watch and notice that I have about fifteen minutes left before I can finally clock-out and go meet Justin. I’m so excited to go home.

As I reach my next table, I plaster a bright smile onto my face. There’s a middle-aged couple, sitting across from each other, holding hands and giggling like they're in love. Usually I find couples disgusting; especially the kind of couples that go out in public and look—well, like a couple. But for some reason, I find these two to be adorable. They just look so happy and carefree with each other. Greeting them in a pleased tone, I say, “Hi. What can I get for you two tonight?”

I happily take their orders, stopping by Justin’s table on my way back. He’s perched in the corner, and immediately looks up when I’m standing by him. “Hey, we can head out in just a few minutes. Do you want anything else before I get off?”

Justin glances down at his half-full cup of coffee and shakes his head. “Naw…I think I’ve had enough for today,” he grins. “Hurry up though, woman, cause I’m hungry and I already ate like three muffins here.”

I playfully roll my eyes at him. “Okay. I’ll be done in a few.”



****



I smile and turn around to wave when I hear Shelly’s voice calling out to me, “Bye Chloe! Have a good night!”

“You too,” I say, turning back around and heading out the door Justin is patiently holding open for me. He exits closely behind me. As he catches up to my side, our hands routinely connect, his fingers intertwining and lacing with my own. It’s weird…I don’t know what Justin and I are exactly, but I can see why Shelly and other people are asking here a lot lately.

I mean, we have been spending a lot of time together, and we do occasionally hold hands and share the odd brief kiss here and there. But that’s about as far as it goes. Innocent enough, right?

And besides, I highly doubt that Justin even considers me anything even remotely close to a girlfriend. Because….well…because it’s Justin for God’s-sake. He’s a player. He doesn’t date just one person—he dates around. I mean, sure, I’ve noticed the lack of girls he’s been bringing home lately, but hell, who’s to say that he doesn’t go over to their place still? I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’m not that stupid and naïve as to believe that Justin has suddenly ditched all his flavors of the week for little ol' me. Sure, it’d be nice, and sure, sometimes I almost feel like he’s totally changing as a person right before my eyes, but that doesn’t mean that I’m one-hundred-percent convinced that he’s to be trusted.

And then there’s Alex.

I went out to lunch with him with Elise the other day and this time, gave him my number. He’s called me a few times, and we even went to the gym together the other day. It was really fun. And he’s seriously so, so smart. He wants to go to law-school eventually. I mean, fuck...he’s really smart. And he’s cute. And he’s nice. And sweet. And he has good manners. And he doesn’t seem like a player.

And he’s pretty much—well, he's pretty much perfect.

I don’t know though. It’s not as if I know him that well or anything. Elise keeps telling me to just go for it with him, but I mean, I don’t know. I know Justin and I aren’t officially together or anything, and I’m sure he hooks up with other girls besides me, but I’m just not like him. I’d feel wrong if I did anything more than hanging out with Alex.

Oh, the tangled web I weave. Heh…but seriously...it’s crazy what a soap opera my life has turned into these past few months. It wasn’t long ago that the only thing I worried about was school, paying my bills and rent on time, and then of course, hanging out with my good old buddy Chris. Now—well now—

I’m quickly brought out of my thoughts as Justin’s strong grip suddenly halts my movement. He’s hastily released my hand and is now gripping my shoulders from the side. I look up curiously, noticing a car hurriedly swishing by me. I take a step back and widen my eyes.

“Whoa, whoa baby. What are you trying to do? Kill yourself on me?” Justin reprimands. “You gotta watch where you’re going; Chicago traffic isn’t gonna stop for you my dear.”

I shake my head, waiting for the little walk sign to appear this time. “Sorry. I was thinking and not paying attention to where we were going,” I explain, sheepishly.

Justin lets go of his hold on me, grabbing my hand again, and tugging for me to follow him across the street now that it’s safe to do so. “Well, good thing you have someone sexy like myself to watch over you,” he teases, squeezing my hand.

“You’re so full of yourself, Justin,” I reply, only half-jokingly. He is so full of himself, but yet I’ve sort of grown used to it. It’s just—Justin.

“Confident,” he corrects me, lightly. “Anyways, what were you thinking about? Me?”

I laugh, trying to keep up with his large strides. Justin has such long legs, sometimes it’s hard to walk as fast as him. “See what I mean! You just assumed I was thinkin’ about you.”

“Well, what were you thinkin’ about then?” he pries, again.

“Just…stuff,” I reply at last. Changing the subject, I add, “I’m hungry Justin. What are we gonna eat?”

“I dunno. What do you want?”

“Um…I want something quick. A hamburger.”

“McDonald’s?” he suggests.

“Yeah, McDonald’s,” I agree. “And then I can get an ice cream cone, too!”

“Ooh, so yummay!” he says, excitedly, mocking my enthused tone.

I pout. “Don’t be mean to me.”

Justin lets go of my hand again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to him, placing a quick kiss on my cheek. “You know I’m just kiddin’ with you girl. I wouldn’t wanna ever be mean to my little cupcake, now would I?” he teases, his voice coming out baby like.

I fight the urge to vomit, yet find myself smiling anyway.

Gag me.

We do act like one of those disgusting little couples, don’t we?

“Oh god, Justin. Just shut up…”



****



{Justin}

I drop my book bag to the side of the table. I sit our tray of food down and wait for Chloe to join me with our drinks. She leisurely strolls up to our table, sipping on her Coke and glancing at the empty tables around us. As she takes a seat across from me, I pop another one of her french-fries into my mouth.

She sets both cups onto the table. “Justin! Stop eating my fries,” she scolds next, grabbing her burger off the tray. “You said you didn’t want any.”

I smirk at her before taking another one. “Yeah, but that’s just ‘cause they taste so much better when they are your fries.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Bitch.”

I chuckle and comment, “Damn girl, you’re so protective of your food.”

She just chews on her burger, ignoring my statement. “Mmm.”

I watch her lick her lips and wipe her mouth off. She’s so hot...

“Please tell me we’re not playing the staring game again.”

“No, no,” I relent, shaking my head. I proceed to open the box that my own burger is in, quite ready to eat myself. Oh yeah…double quarter-pounder with cheese baby. My favorite.

The table grows pretty silent as we both sit and chew on our food. When I’m finally done eating, I notice that she still has half of her burger left. And I know that she’ll get on me if I start to stare at her again, so I offer to go and buy her that ice cream cone she wanted instead.

See, I’m such a gentleman.

Anyhow, she has accepted my offer, and so I quickly slide out of the booth, heading for the front counter. I order her ice cream and make my way back to our table, sliding back into my spot just as easily as I had left it.

I hold out her cone of vanilla ice cream and she smiles appreciatively at me as she takes it out of my hand. “Thank ya Justin,” she says.

I nod and watch her mouth. I’m sorry, I know she hates it when I stare at her, but what am I supposed to do? I wasn’t in the mood for any dessert, and I’m done eating. God, I think Chloe is such a tease. She does this shit on purpose. Just to turn me on. I mean, she’s just licking that thing up—and her tongue—Oh God…

“You’re doing it again,” she reminds me, finally.

Ha…what’d I tell you?

Fine, if she wants to play like that, I suppose I’ll just let her know what I’m thinking.

Hmm…maybe….

“Can I ask you something?” I inquire at once.

Chloe gives me a ‘look.’ Yes, she has a lot of looks, and by now, I know this one pretty damn well. This one means she’s gonna speak her mind--Lord, help us all. “I hate when people say ‘can I ask you something.’ As if the person said no, you may not ask me something, it would stop them from asking their original question in the first place. God…”

Geez. She’s rambling. See what I mean? She always has something smart to say, I swear. “Ok ok. I’ll just ask you then,” I quickly interrupt her. She licks her ice cream again. “I was gonna ask—has anyone ever gone down on you before?”

“Excuse me?” she asks, practically choking on her words.

I smirk at her sudden discomfort. One way to make Chloe squirm is to talk about sex. It’s quite fun, actually. So I decide to elaborate, “You know what I mean. Have you ever let a guy eat your p…”

“Justin!” she immediately shrieks, interrupting me.

I knew she would…

Ha, ha.

I watch in amusement, as she looks around the deserted fast food restaurant before finally turning her annoyed gaze back on me. Narrowing her eyes, she says, “I didn’t realize my sexual history was such a subject as to be discussed over dinner.”

“Just answer the question,” I smirk. “You’re avoiding.”

“You’re such a bastard.”

“So…no?”

“Actually, Justin,” she puts on a confident face, “If you must know—yes. See, I like to get mine—and then I go to sleep.”

My mouth drops open in shock. “Chloe…” I whisper in amazement.

She’s back to licking her damn ice cream.

“Mmm—yes, Justin?”

I shake my head, not knowing exactly what it is that I want to say to her. I watch her for a few seconds before I finally conclude, “You’re such a tease.”

“Well, thank you,” she comments, dryly.

“So, were they any good?” I pry, referring to the so-called men that have gone down on her.

She bites into her cone and chews slowly before she sarcastically responds, “Yes, they were lovely. Absolutely lovely.”

“Oh really?” I comment. “Did they make you c…”

“Justin!”

I chuckle at her. Chloe seriously has this whole sweet-naughty girl thing going on for her. One minute she’ll be saying something seductive, and the next she’s blushing like a little schoolgirl at the mention of anything sexual. Well, oh well—I guess I’ll just have to further push her buttons. “I bet you I could make you...” I trail off, raising my eyebrows at her.

“Thanks,” Chloe immediately replies, mockingly rolling her eyes at me, “But I think I’ll pass on that one, Casanova.”

“Why?” I demand, leaning my elbows on the table. “I’ll have you know, I could have you screamin’ with multiple orgasms...”

“Oh my God,” she says, burying her head in her hands. “Please stop talking about sex, Justin.”

“Fine, but if you ever want me to eat your…” I wait for her to hiss my name again before I continue to happily put these naughty thoughts into her mind. Oh yeah, she cannot resist me much longer. I know she’s gotta be horny sometime or another.

“Well, you know where I live sexy…”



****



{Chloe}

God-damn-mother-fuckin’-bastard!

Seriously. He knew what he was doing at the restaurant tonight. And he did it on damn well purpose. I mean, he’s such a prick! And he actually thinks that he can make me horny with that stupid cocky smirk of his, and his stupid little comments about giving me multiple orgasms…

Please.

The only reason that he would even be able to do such a thing would be because he’s just a fucking man-whore ,and he’s probably gone down on like twenty thousand other sluts.

Eww, what an asshole!

God. Deep breaths, Chloe, deep breaths.

I turn over in my bed again. I hit my head on the mattress, banging the pillow on top of my head. I can’t sleep. What the fuck? Justin is such an asshole! Oops, did I already mention that?

Well, it’s true.

He’s gone and put these stupid thoughts into my head, and now I can’t sleep. I mean—Justin isn’t an asshole—he’s cute. He’s such a cocky bastard, but he’s a cute cocky bastard.

Goddamnit!

I’ll admit it. I’ll just admit it--I’m horny.

Shit. Stupid Justin!

I squeeze my legs together. Rolling over again, I huff and stare up at the ceiling in my dark room. Where the hell is my cell phone anyway? I mean, I could just call Justin and say…hi?

Or not. I shouldn’t do that. No, I shouldn’t call Justin…

Oh fuck it. I’m calling him. Grabbing my phone, I find his now saved phone number in my cell and press the talk button. Oh gosh, I can hear his loud ass phone ringing through the walls….

And you know what?

Fuck keepin’ the damn goodies in the jar!

“Hello?” he finally rasps, yawing into the phone. “What’d ya want cupcake?”

“I hate you.”

“Um…”

“And I’m coming to your room in fifteen minutes.”

I snap the phone shut, my stomach turning as I hop out of bed. What should I do now? Oh my God, I’m a slut! I’m gonna go to Justin’s room. I’m really gonna do it. I mean, no I’m not gonna fuck him, but shit…

I’m going to Justin’s room!

Late at night. To mess around. Oh God…

Shit, I think I’m gonna shower right quick. Yes, yes, I better shower. I’ll just quickly shave my legs--just in case they’ve suddenly become stubbly since this morning. Oh fuck, thank God Elise dragged me along with her to the salon last week for that Brazilian.

What am I thinking here? I’m such a slut!

I wonder what I should wear though?

I’ve turned the light in my room on by now, and I’m shuffling through my drawers, trying to find something—appropriate? A thong? No. I don’t want to go to his room wearing a thong! But I can’t just wear normal underwear either; I mean that’s not sexy, right?

I suddenly spy a simple pair of black boy shorts, and quickly make up my mind. Yes, I’ll wear these. But then again, black means you want to have sex, doesn’t it? Oh shit, I’m reading way too much into this.

Justin won’t care anyway.

Justin.

God, I hate him.



****



I sneak my head out into the hallway, checking just to make sure that Chris isn’t anywhere around when I’m going into his room. My heart is seriously trembling. When I see that it’s safe, I quickly walk out of my door and towards Justin’s. I boldly twist his doorknob, opening it up without even a knock.

I slip inside his room and hurriedly close the door behind me. Breathing heavily, I tilt back against the door, taking in the scene before me with wide eyes. Justin’s bare back is to me as he is leaning down and lighting another candle in his now dimly lit room. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, and when he finally turns around to acknowledge my presence, I almost die.

He knows what he’s doing.

I don’t know whether I like that, or whether I dislike that. I mean the candles, the soft R&B tunes coming from his stereo—seriously, he’s so seductive. And he’s coming towards me. I think I might have already fallen had I not been supporting my weight against his door.

Just as he’s about to reach me, I suddenly have doubts. My hand reaches for his doorknob again as I’m completely ready to run away. I’m not able to do that though, because Justin’s too quick, and his hand is suddenly on top of my own, halting it from any movement. His tall frame is hovering above me, his body oh-so-close to mine. I can smell his cologne as he gently pulls my hand away from the doorknob. He twists the lock instead of allowing my sudden exit. Damn it.

I look up, my eyes wide, as he raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re not gonna back out now, are you?” he counters, lowly.

I take in a shaky breath, exhaling slowly. “N-no.”

“Good.” His eyes travel down my body, his hands reach out to hold my hips. “But you have to promise me something,” he whispers at last, placing a teasing set of kisses along my neck.

“Promise you what?” I ask, shakily.

“Promise me you’ll be good—you’ve got to be quiet so Chris doesn’t wake up…”

A chill runs down my spine as he begins to suck on the skin of my neck. “I’ll—I’ll be quiet,” I manage at last, tilting my head to the side and allowing him better access.

After a while of his sweet torture, Justin finally pulls away and smirks at me. His lips suddenly descend towards my own, as we begin to make-out against his doorway. His hand reaches its way up my side until he is cupping my breasts through the thin material of my white tank-top. I don’t have a bra on, and he seems more than excited about this.

His tongue is massaging my own as he gently begins to nibble on my bottom lip. Oh my God…he’s making me feel really good, and I think I might pass out from the pleasure. I hate that Justin can do this to me. I really do…

I feel his fingers pull at my hair tie, my ponytail coming undone as my hair loosely falls around my shoulders. His fingers tangle inside my locks as he continues to kiss me till my knees start to feel weak. We’re both out of breath when we finally pull away from each other. My head is just a little hazy when he grabs for my arm and starts leading me towards his bed…

There’s really no way I can stop this now. There’s this tiny doubt in the back of my mind that I’m being a huge whore right now--that I shouldn’t be doing this with him--but then again, I really, really don’t give a fuck.

I want this. I want to do this.

Before I know it, I’m sitting on the edge of his bed, and Justin is sitting between my knees, looking up at me with those shiny blue eyes of his. I caress his face, my thumb rubbing over his soft cheek. He has such a baby face.

“Do you want me to take your top off, or do you want to do it?” he licks his lips, waiting for my answer.

I take my hand away from his face, lifting my arms above my head in answer. I don’t say anything as I take a deep breath and wait for him to undress me.

Justin’s hands slide against my waist as he all at once latches onto my tank top and pulls it over my head. The cool air hits my chest, and I take in another deep, shaky breath as he stares at my half-naked body. I know I usually get on his case for staring, but he has this look in his eyes that makes me feel oh-so-sexy. My gaze falls upon his arm, and I focus on the cross tattooed upon his upper arm as I nervously wait for him to say—or to do something.

Suddenly, Justin’s body is lifting up and he’s pushing me back against the cool sheets of his bed. He perches me against his pillows, kissing my shoulder, as he is now hovering above me. “You’re gorgeous baby,” he whispers.

His hands go back to my breasts again, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes my throat as he starts to knead them between his fingers. “You feel really nice.”

I don’t know what to say but, “Oh God…”



****



{Justin}

Breathing in her skin, I lift my head from her neck. My hand reaches out and smoothes her hair away from her face as I stare at her appreciatively. We’ve been doing this for a while now, and I think she’s ready for more.

"I'm gonna touch you, okay?" I whisper, at last.

Chloe's face is flushed. Her breath catches in her throat at my words as she numbly nods her head. "Kay," she whispers back, softly, her eyes closing shut.

I grin as my hand ventures down her body. I trail my fingertips down her stomach until they finally graze over the top of her shorts. Before I go inside, I bring my hand down and apply a little pressure to her center, her shorts creating a barrier. "You wet for me baby girl?"

Chloe's breathing picks up. "Mmmmhhhmmmm."

"Yeaaaaah," I say. God, she's s hot. I want to fuck her. Not yet though. Tonight, I'm going to make her feel good. Damn good. My hand slips inside her shorts, feeling her smoothness. I immediately start to massage her clit, my finger working in a circular motion. Gotta get her worked up, you know. "You feel good," I say in her ear. "Soo wet."

"Justin..."

"Yes baby?" I say, my fingers still rhythmically working her.

"Touch me...inside,” she breathes her request.

For the first time, I slip a long finger inside her. Her body tightens, my finger slipping brilliantly inside her tight, hot wetness. It's amazing. I want to do the same thing but with my dick. "Like that?" I ask, grunting into her ear.

Her body is all sweaty; her chest is heaving…she moans. "Y-yeah."

Her body arches up, as I slip another finger inside her. I use my other hand to gently push at her hip bone, pinning her down against the bed. "Relax." My fingers are probing her violently now. I started off slow, but she's really, really wet now. Just when I think she could maybe come, I pull my fingers out. Chloe whimpers at the loss as I slide my hand up her belly and towards her chest.

"Justin," she cries. "Why'd you stoppppppp?"

My face kisses the valley of her breasts, all around her sweaty, soft, tan skin. "Cause, I'm gonna make you come more than once."

"What?" she asks, unsteadily.

I look up into her eyes with a cocky ass grin in place. "I told you I was gonna give you multiple orgasms, didn’t I? We’re just getting started…”

She still doesn’t seem to get it. I think my hands are distracting her.

"Huh?” Chloe moans.

"I told you….”

I don't give her a chance to question me again as I swiftly start to remove her under shorts. I slide them down her hips, and Chloe lifts her body so I can get them all the way off. Spreading her legs, I stare at her for a second, more than ready to delve in and make her come. Instead, I kiss her thighs, teasing her. My dick is throbbing. Here I am, I've got Chloe horny as fuck, and I'm about to taste her pussy. God, this is so fucking awesome. I've dreamt about this shit, mind you.

"Justin," she whimpers again. I love the sound of her whimpering my name. "Please..."

That's enough begging for me. My tongue slips inside of her, and she moans really loudly. I pull up for just for a second to reprimand her, "Shhh--you promised to be a good girl.”

My mouth returns to its ministrations as she promises to be quiet again, my tongue probing her insides. Chloe tastes sweet. One of her hands is running over my hair, tugging slightly. With her other hand, she’s gripping onto the sheets for dear life; she’s been doing it all night.

It’s not long before I’ve got her so worked up that I just know she’s about to come. My tongue keeps doing what it does, my fingers rub her….

Her body is shaking beneath me, her thighs quivering with her orgasm. “Mmmmm….” She whimpers when my tongue touches her again, her pussy still very sensitive from her orgasm. “Not yet baby girl…”

I ignore her cries, gently pinning her body down with my arms. “Relax…”

“Shit,” she curses, at last. “Oh my God, JUSTIN…”

Incoherent things are falling from her lips, but I don’t much notice. I’m too busy trying to take her there again. She’s digging her nails into my shoulders now. I’ll probably have the battle scars to prove it tomorrow.

But it’s worth it. Oh my God, it’s so worth it.

Especially later on, as I’m finally emerging from in between her thighs. I kiss my way up her stomach. I smile down at her, her body trembling and sweaty. Her eyes are dark, heavy with exhaustion. “Are you okay?” I ask, at last, taking in her disheveled appearance, petting her hair.

She doesn’t say anything to me though. She just breathes in deeply, her eyes fluttering shut. I lean down and kiss her forehead.

I think this is the first time in history that I’ve made Chloe Marin speechless.

{Justin}

"Dude--you guys cannot come over here right now," I repeat myself once again, rolling my eyes as I look down at the stove. As I'm steadying the cell phone against my ear with one hand, my other hand is occupied, stirring the contents of the saucepan in front of me.

"Why the fuck not?" Trace loudly insists in my ear. "We're already about to be on our way over."

"I already told you why, dumb ass!" I exclaim in response.

Damn, sometimes people just don't listen, do they? I don't even know why I'm still trying to carry on a conversation with the moron. I'm cooking right now, and I need to concentrate on my cooking alone, if I want this to turn out as a somewhat of an edible dinner for Chloe and I. "Look, I'll call you tomorrow man," I say at last. "We'll hang out then or something."

"Whatever," Trace scoffs, hanging up the phone.

I snap my cell shut and lick my lips. My eyes glance at the microwave, only to find that it's already about to be 7:00pm in just a few short minutes. Shit. Chloe should be home really soon, and I don't even have the table set yet; I've still got to grab the candles, put the plates out, and oh yes--finish cooking the food.

Fuck. I'm never going to finish this before she gets home. I'm so stupid. I don't know what gave me the brilliant idea to do this in the first place.

Oh yes, it was that damn grade I got on my lab midterm this morning! We finally got our tests back today, and guess what I made? Yup--that's right folks--I'm smarter than you think; I got an A!

Seriously though, the only reason I probably did so well is because of her. I mean, I can admit that I've been slacking a little bit this year, and now I guess I'm back on the right track…

You see, last week, Chloe insisted that I prepare for the test early. I didn't want to, but she wouldn't let up till I finally agreed with her. So then she quizzed me and hung out with me and helped me learn all the material within all our little study sessions, and now--well, now I'm surprising her and cooking her dinner so I can tell her the great news: that we got an A on the test!

I already fibbed that I was gonna be with the boys tonight, so I'm sure she thinks that the house is going to be empty when she gets home from work. And I'm sure she's gonna be pretty damn surprised when she gets home and finds out that I'm really here and that I've set up a nice, cozy dinner for the two of us.

I can't wait to see her face. I hope she's happy.

Oh God…

I know what you're probably thinking; how cheesy have I become? I mean, shit--don't think I've become some sappy loser or anything because it's not like that all; it’s not like I'm all trippin' over her or anything.

But honestly, I can't help it anymore. Trace was right; I do like Chloe. It's just that--well, I really like her. And I know I shouldn't, and I know it's wrong for me to like her so much, but I just can't help it. She's fun to be around and even though she always finds one way or another to get under my skin and piss me off, she always finds another way to challenge me and make me laugh, too.

And I like that about her.

I mean, at first, I didn't, but now that I've gotten to know her better, it's different. It's funny how time can change things. I mean, the past few weeks seem to have passed by in an instant, and I almost can't believe that this whole bet thing is supposed to be over in another three months. When Trace and I made the bet, he said I had six months. Six months to get her to fall in love with me, six months to sleep with her…

But the thing is, lately I've been thinkin' that maybe I don't even really care about the stupid bet anymore. All this time I've been telling myself that Chloe is just a stupid-fucking bet; but the truth is, she's more than a stupid bet to me.

And it sucks because sometimes I just want to call the whole thing off, to just forget about the damn bet and pretend I never made it. But I know I can't do that. I mean, Trace and Darnell have fuckin' money down on whether or not we're gonna bone, and it's like they constantly remember to bring the whole thing up every other day just to make sure I haven't forgotten or something.

I finish lighting the two candles I've got laying out as I step back and smile at my work. In the midst of all my crazy thoughts, I've finally managed to set up our table for tonight. The food is almost done and the atmosphere is lookin' pretty nice.

Yup, it looks good.

Everything’s good.

And when Chloe finally gets here, things will be even better.



****



{Chloe}

"Yes, I know Elise. I just got home though, so I'm gonna let you go. I'll see you in a while," I say, shutting my phone and reaching inside my coat pocket for my keys. I let myself inside the apartment, furrowing my brow as I shut the door behind me.

It smells good in here. It smells like someone's cooking. Chris' car was gone though, and Justin isn't supposed to be here--so who?

I quickly make my way towards the kitchen, curiously slipping inside the room. My surprised eyes fall upon the romantic setting. As I stare at it all in wonderment, Justin's voice unexpectedly calls out to me. My gaze snaps away from the candles as I look at him intriguingly, "What's all this? What are you doing home?" I question at once.

I feel like I'm walking in on some date he's got ready for some other girl or something. But then again, he wouldn't have done all this for someone else when he knew I was coming home, right?

"I wanted to surprise you," he immediately explains. He's smiling at me, awaiting my reaction. "Do you like it?"

I don't know what to say. I'm honestly flattered. He did this. And he did it for me? I mean, we're talking about Justin Timberlake here, people. This is like--one of the sweetest, cutest things a guy has ever done for me. And by Justin Timberlake; the same guy I used to hate a few months ago, the same guy that I'm supposed to be making fall madly-in-love with me right now...

Shit. That reminds me--I had no idea he was going to be doing all of this--and I already have plans for tonight. In fact, 'my plans' are going to be here in just a little while, and I'm sure Justin isn't going to be too thrilled when Elise...

He suddenly interrupts the silence, adding proudly, "I made us shrimp fettuccini and salad. Is that okay?"

I immediately bite my lip.

Oh God--shrimp? I hate shrimp. I always have, always will...

Now, you know that normally I don't hold anything back just for the sake of his feelings, but I seriously don't have the heart to tell him how much I abhor shrimp at the moment. Especially when he's looking all cute and nervous for my reaction. And especially when I'm going to have to tell him that his surprise is sort of going to be ruined, as my guests should be arriving here anytime soon.

I mean, what can I do about it? Lisa and Elise are already on their way over for the night...

He’s still waiting for me to answer him. Say something. I need to say something. "Oh--that--that sounds great. But…you didn't have to do all this for me, Justin," I squeak out at last, managing to give him a soft smile when I'm done.

He grins at my words of approval, and suddenly he's walking towards where I'm standing and staring at him. He leans down and gives me a quick kiss, grabbing for my hands and leading me to sit down at the table. "I wanted to," he dismisses my previous comment, adding, "Sit down and I'll bring the food..."

Shit. What should I do?

Should I just come out with it? Or should I start our dinner and then tell him?

I decide on the latter, as he plops a full plate of food in front of me and heads over to get his own. He pores me a glass of wine and himself one before he finally joins me at the table. He glances in my direction and I tilt my head to the side, observing him carefully. I smile at him again.

"Why you smiling at me?" he asks, his own face breaking out into a grin.

"I dunno. This is just--sweet of you,” I comment.

He flashes his white teeth at me, as his grin grows even larger. "Well, I can be sweet sometimes, you know."

"I see that," I reply, nonchalantly using my fork to scrape the shrimp around on my plate. I should take a bite, but I don't want to get any of the shrimp in my mouth. I figure I'll stall the whole taking-a-bite thing for a few more seconds as I question him, "So have I done something to deserve such sweetness, or is this just my lucky night?"

"Well actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you--"

The doorbell cuts off his explanation. Fuck. They're already here? I mean, I knew they were on their way, but shit. I was trying to ease into at least a short discussion with him before I broke out with the news, and now they're already here...

"Who the heck is here?" Justin mutters at me, annoyed. He's already starting to get out of his chair, as he mumbles, "I swear to God, if that's Trace, I'm gonna--"

My words stop him from any further movement, "It's--um--err--a few friends of mine were gonna come over tonight..."

His face immediately drops. I feel a sudden wave of guilt wash over me. I didn't mean for this to happen though. I had no idea he was even going to be home tonight, and now--now he's looking at me like I've killed his puppy or something. "Justin, I'm so sorry," I say getting up, as the doorbell is now being rung again.

He's going to flip when he sees who's here, I just know it. I think he must have forgotten about that time I was with her at the basketball court because he never mentioned it that day. But I just have a feeling he's not going to like this...

I gently touch his arm and then turn to get the door. "I'll be right back."



****



{Justin}

I can't fucking believe this.

Seriously.

Why do I even try with women anymore?

All they are is a bunch of trouble and, and I can't believe that of all people she's here.

What a fuckin' bitch. I don't even understand how her and Chloe are friends all of a sudden. They met in a class and did a project together? What the hell? Does that mean they should be best friends now or something?

I mean, last time I fucking checked, they didn't even seem to like each other. Whenever Elise came around to the house with me, the two of them seemed nothing remotely close to interested with one another, let alone did they seem friendly with one another. And now--well now—they're all just buddy-buddy!

I mean, damn. This fucking blows.

And I swear to God, Elise is acting like such a little smart-ass right now. She's seriously getting on my fucking nerves. Her other friend seems okay, but she hasn't really spoken all that much so who knows how bad she is. In fact, as we all awkwardly sit here at the dinner table, I think Chloe and Elise are pretty much the only ones opening up their mouths to speak.

I'm too pissed and upset to even wanna begin a conversation.

"So, Justin, shouldn't you be out fucking one of your ho's right about now?" Elise suddenly breaks the silence, giving me a sarcastic smile.

"Elise, don't--" Chloe starts.

I coldly interrupt her with my own response to the bitch's comment, "Yeah, I guess I should be. In fact, why don't we go upstairs so I can fuck you and take care of that little problem?" I clap my hands together and add, "Oh wait, no. Already been there, done that, huh?”

Chloe drops her fork, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice the upset look on her face. Oh well, what am I supposed to do? She brought over my ex-whatever and she expects me to be nice to the slut?

"I don't know, Justin. I don't much remember our fucks; I tend to forget about all my lame-ass-one-minute-sex-sessions whenever I can," Elise snidely replies to me.

Oh the stupid bitch...

My phone suddenly rings, stopping me from responding. I quickly pull my cell out and growl into the phone, "What?"

"What are you doing?" Darnell’s voice questions me.

"Nothing," I say, staring straight at Chloe as I speak. She's watching me on the phone, while Lisa and Elise have started in on some conversation of their own. "Why, what do you want?"

"Trace said we couldn't chill at your crib tonight, and he said--wait, who's over there?" he suddenly pries, "I hear voices."

"No one," I reply, reluctantly adding, "Just Chloe--and some of her friends."

"Oh fuck no! You're not having a threesome, are you?" he snickers.

"No."

"Well then, why can't we come over? Are any of them hot?" he inquires.

I roll my eyes.

Why the fuck not, anyways?

It's not like my night isn't already ruined.



****



{Chloe}

I walk back into the living room, where our sudden mini get together is going on. I hand Darnell another beer. He smiles at me, accepting the drink I just offered to go and get him a second ago. "Thanks shorty."

"No problem," I say, watching Justin.

He's sulking.

He's sitting down, watching everyone chat and laugh with a big old scowl on his face. He's not talking to anyone, and he's not trying to be the center of attention like he usually likes. His gaze suddenly lands on me, and he rolls his eyes at me when he sees me staring.

Geez. I feel bad, but what does he want me to do about it? It's not like I intentionally plotted to ruin his plans tonight, so why do I even feel guilty about this? He's acting like a little baby right now, and I'm sick of worrying about him while everyone else is having fun…

Taking a seat beside Elise, I tilt my head to the side and try to catch up with some of the conversations going around the room. I glance at Lisa and raise my eyebrows suggestively. She was more than excited when she found out that Darnell was going to be stopping by tonight, and by the pleased look on her face, I can tell she's really having a good time.

Suddenly Chris and his girlfriend Marissa walk into the living room, more alcoholic beverages in their hands. I smile at Marissa and she winks at me as Chris noisily says, "What the hell is going on in my house? You guys know you're not allowed to throw parties without me…"

Justin scoffs, loudly enough to turn a few heads. He points at me, "Blame that on her."

I glare at him. Chris was just joking anyways, and Justin of course is acting like an ass about it. I hate when he's like this.

"Who cooked the food in the kitchen?" Marissa chirps in, noticing my annoyed face. Everyone else seems to ignore the spectacle, but she's always been good at breaking up fights between me and Justin, and I know she thinks that’s what we’re about to do.

"I cooked dinner for me and Chloe," Justin answers her crossly, rolling his eyes at the thought.

Chris is setting the bag of drinks on the coffee table, as he looks up and casually comments, "But I thought you hated shrimp, Chlo?"

Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to say that.

And Justin looks so pissed at me.

But damn--what else is new anyways?



****



"Juuustin," I drawl, opening his door and allowing myself inside without somuch as a knock. It's not like I need to knock anyways; I never do anymore. Ever since I snuck into his bedroom that night that he made me—well you know what—well, he and I have sort of been sneaking into each other’s rooms a whole lot lately. We usually just fool around and cuddle and whatever else. At first I felt like a huge slut, but now I'm sort of used to it.

And besides--it's fun. We have fun. And it's not like Justin and I have had sex...yet.

I giggle at the thought, my head just a little clouded over with the few beers and sips of Smirnoff I had tonight. Justin went up to bed a while ago; he didn't feel like socializing anymore, I guess.

I make my way over to his bed in the dark room, feeling as though I might trip on something if I'm not careful. I crawl next to him. "Justin, get up," I say, tapping at his arm.

He just rolls over, away from me instead, ignoring my touch. That bitch. I know he's awake! I don't know why the hell he's so pissed at me. Normally, I wouldn't care. Well, I wouldn't have cared a while ago--but--but--

I force my body against his own, hugging him from behind. "Justin, what are you trippin'?" I suddenly roll off of him and onto my back again, cracking up at the fact that I think I just made absolutely no sense with that. My body shakes with laughter, as I look up at the ceiling and wait for him to reply.

"Go away Chloe,” he finally whispers.

"Why?" I pout, snuggling into him again. My hands reach over his body, sliding down his waist. I begin to rub him through his pants. "Why are you mad at me?"

"I--I'm not--" he starts, flipping over onto his back again. He looks at me, and I stare down at my hand on his crotch, as I continue to tease him. "It’s just--I'm just pissed about the whole night," he finally breathes out, shakily.

"Oh...well I'm horny." I giggle, as his hand suddenly grips my own, stopping me from unbuckling his belt. I pout at him again.

"I think what you are is drunk,” he states.

"No, I'm just tipsy," I smartly correct him, twisting my hand out of his grasp. "Do you not want me to be in here?"

"I didn't say that," he replies, quietly.

"Well then..." I can hear the faint sound of loud voices coming from throughout the house. Everyone is still over, but I really don't care all that much. I want to spend time with Justin. My hand goes back to his belt buckle, as I once again try to undo it. He doesn't stop me this time.

"Can we...." I slither my leg over his body, maneuvering myself until I'm straddling his waist. I lean down and kiss his cheek, his jawbone, his neck…

"Can we what?" he questions, sliding his hands down my backside until firmly squeezes my ass.

I pull away from kissing him and look into his eyes. I smile at him, as I grind myself against his dick. His eyes don't give it away, but I know he at least somewhat wants me, because I can feel how hard he’s getting. "You know what,” I whisper.

Justin's hands are still on my ass, as he uses this to once more grind me down onto him. He thrusts his hips upwards against me, creating even more friction between our fully-clothed bodies. "No, I don't think I do. Why don't you just tell me?" he grunts, huskily. "Just say it."

I don't know why, but suddenly I'm giggling again. His body feels so good beneath me, but the moment is sort of ruined as I start laughing again. I hear Justin sigh, as he quickly lets go of his hold on me. "I'm sorry," I immediately sober myself up, "I just--I really want to have sex with you right now," I admit.

My hands trace idle circles along his chest, as Justin closes his eyes and breathes in deeply at my words. He looks like he's struggling with something as I watch him lay there and contemplate everything. Abruptly he's gently pushing me off of him. As I fall to his side and lay there in momentary shock, he gets up and comes over to me. I see that he’s reaching his hand out to me.

"What are you doing?" I demand at him in frustration.

"I'm taking you to your bedroom."

"What? You're kicking me out?" I ask him in disbelief.

"I know I won't be able to control myself if you’re in here in tonight, so I'm going to resist temptation, and I'm going to let you go to bed on your own," he says, tugging at my lax body. "C'mon, stop lookin' all sexy and get up…”

All of a sudden, I’m not that tipsy and amused anymore. Instead of laughing, I feel like crying, or screaming, or shouting, or punching. Yes, punching him in the face sounds like a good idea. "What the hell Justin? I don't want to leave!" I argue, pulling away from him, smacking my hand down on his bed. I realize I'm acting like a spoiled bratright now, but I just can't believe this. I'm horny and--and he's kicking me out of his room!

"Oh God," he groans. "I can't handle this much longer…"

"What are you--"

Then, all at once, before I even realize what's happening, he's picking me up and hoisting me over his shoulder. He's carrying me away from his room, and before I know it, he's brought me into my own room and set me down on my own bed. He kisses me on the head and quickly says goodnight. I don’t even get the chance to protest again because he’s already gone by the time I find my voice to say something.

I frown and flop down onto my back. As my head hits the plush pillows, I let out a disappointed sigh.

Justin doesn't want me.

He fuckin' rejected me and kicked me out of his room.

God--what a shitty night.

{Chloe}

He turned me down.

It’s been three days, and I still can’t believe he turned me down for sex. I mean, is there something wrong with me? Am I not sexy to him? I know it’s not because he’s hesitant about doing the nasty; he’s not some virgin, or even close to being a virgin for that matter…

Justin loves sex. He loves to have it. He does have it a lot.

So why not have it with me?

I know I should be happy that he turned me down, that he didn’t take advantage of the fact that I was slightly intoxicated that night; but—still. I mean, yes, it was sweet of him. And yes, it was even noble of him to stop anything before it got started. So why am I so upset about it?

The past few days have been weird. I’ve been giving Justin the cold shoulder, and I’ve been pretty snippy with him. It’s not like I’m mad at him or anything—or maybe I am, and I just don’t know why I am.

And maybe this was his plan all along. Maybe he knew that if he stopped us from having sex that night, that I would want to fuck his brains out like I do right now. In fact, he probably planned this all out, and he probably knew this was going to happen to me; so there, that’s why I’m pissed at him!

But then again, that’s kinda crazy right?

I’m being irrational.

It’s not fair though.

Justin is supposed to be a jerk. He’s supposed to get on my nerves. He’s not supposed to go and do sweet, nice things for me; like cooking me dinner, and/or not taking advantage of me when he very well had the chance to take advantage.

God, I hate how—

Suddenly, their loud laughter brings me out of my thoughts, as I look to my side and find all three of them cracking up. We’re watching Napoleon Dynamite—for the fuckin’ millionth time, mind you—and it’s just horrible. Justin, Trace, and Darnell are all obviously amused by the flick, but me? I’m just stuck here, sitting around and being miserable, thinking about things that I shouldn’t be thinking about…

My eyes once again land on Justin’s oblivious form. He’s sitting beside me on the couch, his arm lazily draped over my shoulder. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, and this light blue button up shirt, which makes the blue in own his eyes stand out even more than usual. His lips are perfect and soft and wet from licking them like he always damn well does.

Unexpectedly, his clear blue eyes meet my own, as he probably wonders why I’m staring at him. He licks his lips at me. I’m so sick of him always licking his lips for fun; I’ve always hated this nasty habit of his--and now I’m convinced that he does it just to make girls horny. He gives me that crooked smile of his before finally turning his gaze back to the television once more.

One of his hands reaches out to nonchalantly rub at my thigh, and I quickly push it away. Can you believe he ever had the nerve to go and call me a tease? I think we can all clearly tell who the tease is in this twisted scenario. And I think that he needs to keep his damn hands off of me until he learns to back up what he starts…

Too bad I still want his cocky ass.

Weak, I know.

Leaning down into his ear, I softly whisper, “Can we talk for a second?”



****



{Justin}

I gasp for air as she pulls away from me. I lean against the counter for support, my wide eyes taking her in. “Dayum, girl. What was that for?” I breathe out, referring to the hard kiss she just attacked me with. (Not that I’m complaining or anything, but it was just kind of unexpected.)

“What do you think?” she retorts, smartly.

“I—I don’t know,” I stutter out my answer. For the first time, I notice her flushed appearance; her somewhat ragged breathing, her slightly hardened nipples poking through her tank top—the lust in her voice. “I…”

Our eyes meet with intensity, as she harshly interrupts me, “I suggest you have your friends leave Justin--and I suggest you do it quickly.” She straightens out her shirt as her eyes suggestively fall down to stare at my crotch. “I’ll be in my bedroom waiting for you.”

All the blood rushes to my dick at once. I incredulously watch her ass as she disappears before my eyes. I can’t believe what’s happening here. I feel like I’m having a wet dream or something. I mean, Chloe basically just told me that she’s waiting upstairs; waiting upstairs, horny for me and ready for me to fuck her. I feel my knees go weak as I place a steady hand onto the countertop.

Is this really happening? I can’t be dreaming, can I?

Trace and Darnell’s faint laughter sifts through my ears, and I know this isn’t a fantasy. This is real. I’m awake. She wants to have sex. Chloe Marin wants to have sex, with me, Justin Timberlake.

But can I really do this with her?

Should I resist her again?

I mean, she’s not drunk anymore. She’s got to know what she’s doing, what she’s getting herself into…

Fuck. Chloe.

Me. Sex.

Chloe.

Sweaty. Sweaty and naked.

I shake my head, adjusting myself in my pants.

Hell yes I can do this.



****



{Chloe}

It doesn’t take him long to get to me, and I’m already attacking him as he walks through the door. I begin to kiss him like there is no tomorrow. My hands slide up his chest, our lips merging together. His tongue is battling with my own as I work on unbuttoning his shirt. I get a few of the buttons to snap open. I pull away from him. “Do you have a condom?” I ask.

He nods his head dumbly, still trying to catch his breath. His eyes are darkening with lust as he watches me.

“Go get one,” I order him, shakily.

He nods at me again, disappearing once more, leaving me breathless. When he finally comes back from his bedroom and shuts the door behind him, I immediately go back to where we left off: me unbuttoning his shirt, us making-out like wild teenagers…

I slide his shirt off his shoulders and it carelessly falls to the floor, only to reveal his white wife-beater underneath. My hands rub over his biceps, as I pin him against my door, much like he did to me that first night we ever messed around. Justin leans his head back against the wooden barrier as I feverishly start to assault his neck with my mouth. I lick and suck and kiss everywhere; under his ear, along his strong jaw line, down to his collar bone.

His chest is heaving up and down. I place a soft kiss to his voice-box and he moans. I can feel he needs me too; his erection is pressing into me hard. Suddenly, his shaky voice interrupts my work.“What if…”

I don’t stop for long though. Only a second, and I’m kissing his neck again. “What if…”

“What if what?” I demand, pulling away and looking into his murky eyes.

“What if Chris comes home and we’re…”

I place my finger over his lips to stop him from finishing that sentence. Roughly grinding my lower body against his, I state, “Does this look like a face that cares?”



****



{Justin}

I’m seriously gonna put it on this girl.

We’re lying on her bed now, and she’s straddling me in nothing but her panties and her tank top. I’m still stuck in these fuckin’ jeans though, my dick straining and as hard as ever. Her lips are kissing my bare chest, her warm tongue softly trailing over my skin. My breath hitches in my throat for the millionth time today, the feeling of her mouth on my body oh-so-good.

I’m trying to get a grip of myself though. I realize in the corner of my mind that she’s pretty much been the only one taking charge and control here so far. Not for much longer though. I don’t know why the hell I was so hesitant to go through with this at first; what the fuck I was even thinking? This is obviously well over-due for the both of us, and I know that she needs it as much as I do.

You just don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment.

Oh yes…

So we’re gonna do it my way from now on. I’m gonna make her scream for me. And loudly. And I’m gonna fuck her so good that she won’t even be able to walk tomorrow. And then she’ll come so hard…

Quickly, I push my thoughts away as I gently shove her off of me. She looks up and gives me a disappointed, questioning look. I flip us over so that she’s lying down on her back. I prop my head against my elbow and reach my hand out to touch her.

My hand starts caressing her through her panties. She moans, my fingers rubbing her up and down, applying slight pressure. “Justin…”

She’s gonna be saying my name alright. “Yeah?” I breathe. I lean over and lick her lips. I begin to gently nibble on her bottom lip. My hand is moving roughly over her now. She’s wet; I can feel it through her underwear.

Chloe moans, closing her legs together and squeezing my hand in between them. I let out a soft chuckle. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her, gently. This will be the last time I try to fight this and if she says yes, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself much longer…

“Yes,” she breathes out in confirmation.

Thank God.

“This needs to go,” I suddenly mumble, tugging at the hem of her shirt. Chloe arches her back up and allows me to pull her top off her body and finally over her head. I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. I gently slide the black material off her chest. And at last, her breasts are exposed for my viewing pleasure.

I cup the soft flesh of her right breast, as my mouth latches onto her left. She wriggles beneath me, moaning and letting me know I’m making her feel good. I’ve got to get my cock out of these pants--and quickly.

I pull away from her and reach down to unbuckle my jeans. I take the condom out of my pocket that I got earlier and start to fumble with the package. Chloe lies there, her eyes closed, just waiting, knowing what’s to come. Yes, I’m going to make her come…

I finally slide the condom on, my jeans and boxers already cleverly discarded from my body. I take Chloe’s panties and start to glide them down her hips. This is it. I’m about to be inside of her. I hover above her, kiss her eyelids. She’s practically holding her breath, waiting for it.

She doesn’t have to wait any longer.

I take hold of her thighs and spread her legs. “I’m gonna…” I trail off in warning.

I push my way barely inside of her, pulling out. Chloe whimpers. I moan. I grab her arms and lift them up, gently pinning them above her head. I slowly begin to slide into her again. She cries out at the feeling, her pussy slowly accommodating my size.

She’s so fucking tight. Her walls are sucking me whole. All—the—way—inside.

Our hands intertwine above us. I lean down and kiss her lips. I can’t take it anymore. I pull out and then I slowly thrust back into her again. Chloe’s head thrashes to the side. Her breasts heave beneath my chest. Our sweaty bodies are pushed against each other, as my thrusts start to grow more violent.

Before I know it, I’m pounding into her, hard and fast. The beginning feelings of physical exertion are starting to overcome my body, but I’m not ready to be done yet. I want to take her there before I collapse inside of her, before I’m not able to move from the pleasure of it all…

I lean down and suck on her neck again, roughly creating those marks on her that will prove that this wasn’t all a dream tomorrow. Her hands squeeze my own, as I continuously pound into her over and over and over again. “You feel so g-good, girl,” I grunt into her ear, thrusting my dick deeper than before.

Chloe moans my name in response. Her legs are wrapped around my waist, squeezing me tightly. “Justin…”

“You don’t care if—if he he-ears…”

She pants, arching her body up to get closer. “Who?”

She knows who. The only person who could walk in here, find us butt-nekkid and try to kill me. I know it’s about that time for her… she’s getting so, so close. I let go of one of her hands, bringing my own hand down her body. Her legs immediately unwrap themselves around my waist as I roughly start to rub at her clit. “Say my name again…”

“W-why?” Chloe gasps.

“’Cause…”

“J-Justin…”

I continue to thrust into her. “Louder,” I groan.

“JUSTIN.”

And then, all at once, her pussy is clamping so tightly around me, I think I might stop breathing. She screams my name, as she brings her arms down, wrapping them around my back. Her body shakes below me, as she finally comes on my dick. I wait until she’s calmed down a little before I start to move again.

“I—I’m almost…”

Chloe slides her hands down and grabs my ass, pushing me inside of her as deeply as possible.

She squeezes her muscles tight on me, and I’m there…

I collapse onto her when it’s all done, my body literally spent. Both of us are still breathing heavily, as she gently runs her fingers up and down my back. She pets my hair and kisses my shoulder.

Shit. I can’t believe that just happened. I don’t think I’ll ever, ever forget this moment. What I’m feeling...

She fucking…

She’s a fucking sex-goddess.

My god.

I think I’m in love.

{Justin}

Okay, so here’s the thing. I have something to admit to you. What I’m trying to say is—well—that I’ve been a complete and total bastard. For how long, you wonder? Oh I don’t know, perhaps five days long maybe? Yeah, that sounds about right. We had sex precisely five days ago; and this means that I have succeeded in avoiding any and all human contact with Chloe Marin for precisely five days in counting.

So I know this seems a ridiculous move on my part, considering what I said to you a while back and all. You know—like five days a while back—that stupid thing I said about me thinking I was in love with her?

Well, yeah. It obviously wasn’t true. I mean, now that I’m thinking clearly, now that I’m no longer overwhelmed with that ‘wow-I-just-had-an-amazing-fuck’ kind of high you sometimes get after having great sex; well, I realize just how not-in-love with her I really am. Honestly, I’m still lost as to why that thought even crossed my mind, but I guess it doesn’t matter much anyways.

My point is that there’s no way in hell that I could possibly be in love with someone like Chloe. I mean, first of all, she’s just not my type—we’re a match made in hell if you will. And second of all, if there’s one thing I ever learned about love, it’s that it ain’t your friend folks.

Really, it’s amazing to me how many people bitch and moan about wishing they were in love, wishing they could find that “someone special” to be in their lives. Please. Why don’t people just stick a damn post-it that says ‘I-wish-someone-could-fuck-me-over-and-destroy-my-happiness’ onto their foreheads if they’re so fuckin’ desperate to find love?

What? It’s just a suggestion.

Anyways—back to me being a bastard. I’ve been avoiding Chloe ever since we had sex, and I feel really bad about it. I mean, just because I’m not in love with the girl doesn’t mean that I don’t like her any. She’s not exactly—the most pleasant girl I’ve ever been friends with, but at least she’s honest and real with me. And she is kind of funny and interesting and smart sometimes…

So whatever.

I guess I shouldn’t have just gone and ignored her after I finally got around to banging her. That wasn’t a nice thing for me to do, and I really do think that Chloe and I can at least be friends with each other now. Just as long as there’s no more sex and all that other couple-ish kind of shit between us, we’ll be fine. I can’t afford to be fucking up my head anymore with stupid ideas of being in love and what not. So yeah—no more sex.

At least not with Chloe anyway…

Shit, am I already home? That was fast. I guess I got pretty lost in all my thoughts as I was walking here, huh?

Taking a deep breath, I reach into my pocket and pull out my keys. I wonder if Chloe’s even home right now. I’ve been staying at Darnell’s crib all week so I don’t even know what she’s been up to. I guess I hope she’s here though because I wanna talk to her and apologize for being such a dick.

“Hello?” I call out, stepping inside the apartment and closing the door behind me. “Anyone home?”

Nobody answers me.

So I stroll further along inside only to find that both the kitchen and living room are empty. I frown, quickly making my way towards the bedrooms. I knock on Chloe’s door, cracking it open when she doesn’t answer. She’s not in there. And guess what, Chris isn’t in his room either.

Fuck. Everybody is gone. Where the hell are they? I need to talk to Chloe.

Walking inside of my own bedroom, I plop down onto my bed and pull out my phone. I start to ring her cell, but she doesn’t answer. “Shit,” I curse, ending the call. I quickly call Chris instead, and I’m quite thankful when I finally hear his voice after the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up?” I greet. “Where is everybody? I just came home, and ya’ll are gone.”

“I’m with Marissa, man,” Chris states, matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” I say. I wait a second and then add, “What about Chloe?”

Chris takes a second to answer as he informs his girlfriend of who’s on the phone. Finally, he answers, “She said she was going to some party. Why?”

My brow immediately furrows. Since when the hell did Chloe go to parties? She hates parties…she told me so. “With who?” I ask.

“That Elise chick she’s been hanging out with. And that other girl that was over a while back.”

“Lisa?” I supply.

“Yup.”

“Elise is a fucking bitch,” I finally mutter, annoyed. Suddenly I’m in a really bad mood. “I can’t believe this. She shouldn’t be going to parties with that slut. And since when…”

“Justin.”

“What?”

“I hate to cut ya off, but I’m kinda…busy at the moment.”

“Oh…sorry,” I immediately apologize.

“Don’t worry 'bout it. Is there anything else you needed?”

“Uh—no.” I pause, “ Well, actually, you don’t happen to know where the party is at, do you?”

“Nope…sorry,” Chris answers me, shooting down all my hopes with his two spoken words.

Fuck. Damn. Fuck.

“It’s all good,” I say, coolly. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

I hang up my phone and lay down, staring at the ceiling in thought. I can’t believe she’s at a fucking party right now. And why does it bother me so much that she is anyways?

Well, you know what? I don’t know why it bothers me—but it just fucking does.

So how can I find out where she’s at?

I lie in bed and ponder this for a while until suddenly I get an idea: Lisa. Darnell has Lisa’s number…Lisa’s with Chloe…Lisa might pick up her phone and tell me where they’re at…

Damn, I hope she picks up.



****



“I think I found her,” Darnell abruptly says, pointing towards the opposite direction I had been looking in. “But uh…uh…”

My eyes scan over the various crowds of people before finally settling on what he’s stuttering about. I tighten my jaw in irritation. He sure did fuckin’ find her alright—found her with her tongue shoved down some motherfucker’s throat. “What the fuck?” I snap, angrily.

Darnell shrugs his shoulders at me when I look at him in annoyance. “Sorry man.”

“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, heading away from him, off into her direction.

Some dumbass bumps into me as I’m walking, but I don’t flinch or even stop until I’m standing right over them. I begin to harshly tap whatever fucker she’s making out with on his shoulder. They eventually pull away from each other, as he glances at me annoyance. What a fuckin’ prick…

“Can I help you?” he asks me.

“Actually, no,” I reply rudely. I ignore him and my eyes meet Chloe’s now angered ones as she gives me her most evil glare ever. “I need to talk to you,” I state, pointing at her.

The guy immediately looks in her direction, a confused look on his face. “Uh, who is he?” he asks her, carefully.

She opens her mouth to respond, but I quickly interrupt with my own answer instead, “I’m her boyfriend, you dick. Now can you please get your fucking hand off her thigh so I can have a word with her?”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“No!” she responds, sharply. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Chloe, why are you doing this?” I say in a hurt voice. “You know that we’re together.” I reach my arm down and try to tug on her hand, but she swiftly snaps it away from me.

“Don’t touch me.”

“We need to talk,” I insist, not caring who’s listening or watching us at this point. A few heads are turned, but it’s no big deal.

“Alex, can we please go somewhere else?” she immediately asks him, ignoring me completely.

Oh, that’s right! I knew the fucker seemed familiar! He’s that prick from the basketball court, the one—shit, I thought I tore his number up? Damn it! “Chloe…” I hurriedly start to protest as she and Alex are now standing up together, ready to make their exit.

Chloe quickly brushes past me though, giving me one last dirty glare in the process. “Bye Justin.”

I watch in paralyzed shock, as Alex follows closely behind her. Their bodies soon mesh into the distant crowds…and finally, they fade away all together.



****



{Chloe}

“You are such a fucking asshole!” I shout, barging into the kitchen, tearing his attention away from the package of cookie’s he is working on opening up.

Justin’s face looks startled at my sudden arrival. He’s standing next to the counter in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I quickly make my way over to him, ready to beat his ass. I angrily shove at his chest, as he slightly stumbles backwards from the contact. “I can’t believe you did that!” I continue, shoving him again and repeating my first statement, “You are such a fucking asshole!”

He suddenly recovers from my pushing and shoving him as he rolls his eyes at me. Grabbing my arms, he holds them away from hitting him and says, “Calm the fuck down, Chloe. You’re overreacting.”

“Let go of me!” I yell at once.

I wriggle and squirm, desperately trying to get away from his strong grip…

And somehow, unbeknownst to me, in only a few short minutes, we end up wrestling our way out of the kitchen and into the living room. I fall upon Justin’s body, the back of his head banging against the floor, as we both violently land onto the carpet. I start hitting and banging at his chest until he hastily maneuvers us over in our little wrestling session. He pins my hands above my head and forces my body down with his weight.

Both of our breathing is extremely ragged as he breathlessly tells me, “Would you calm your ass down? Jesus Christ!”

I try to push my body up and get him off of me, but it’s no use; he’s too heavy, too strong. I look at his face, only inches away from mine. I have a strong urge to hit him in the fucking jaw. “Get the fuck off me! I want to punch you so damn bad!” I scream out in frustration.

Justin chuckles unevenly, shaking his head at me. “Fine. I’ll let you punch me once—but only if you promise to listen to me first.”

“Just get off of me!” I shout again, my stomach twisting with intense anger.

He suddenly rolls away, sitting up and idly dusting off his t-shirt. He stares at me closely for a minute. “Look, I’m sorry,” he finally says, his words still shaky from his erratic breathing. “I shouldn’t have done that tonight.” I don’t say anything or even move, as he continues on, “And I…I shouldn’t have just…disappeared on you like I did this week…”

What a bastard.

He actually expects me to believe he’s sorry. It’s not like I was all that surprised about it anyways. “Whatever. I don’t believe you.”

“Chloe, I swear. I’m sorry,” he insists. “I’m really sorry.”

If I wasn’t so damn exhausted from wrestling with him, I’d attempt at getting my ass up and walking away from him right now. I need to save my energy though—don’t think I won’t punch his ass as soon as he says I get my turn. And I want it to hurt when I do. “That’s nice,” I finally reply, coldly.

Justin frowns. “The thing is—well I kinda freaked out after we had sex because—because um…”

“I really don’t care. We’re not together and I don’t care,” I snap, interrupting his explanations. If I’m completely honest, I was a little disappointed, but I’m not gonna bother telling him that. Asshole.

“I think I like you maybe a little too much,” he confesses, continuing on stubbornly. “And I guess that’s why I needed to get away for a few days.”

“Oh please,” I scoff at once, finally sitting up and readjusting my skirt. “Couldn’t you think of a better excuse than that? That was just pathetic, Justin. Even for you.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” he immediately yells, throwing his hands up. “Why don’t you just accept my damn apology and move on?”

“You made Alex think we’re together! You ruined my date!”

Justin rolls his eyes. “So what? That guy is a jerk, Chloe.”

“No, Justin, you’re the jerk,” I correct him.

Silence falls upon us for once, both of us staring ahead at the wall. Finally, I ask, “Do I get to punch you yet?”

“Will you forgive me and be friends with me again if I let you?”

I pause a moment to think about this. Do I really think he deserves another chance? Maybe not, but the thought of punching him is just too damn enticing to pass up in the end. “Fine.”



****



{Justin}

I hold my hands up and stand before her, ready to let her do the damage. I mean, how much could a girl-punch possibly hurt anyways?

“Alright, go ahead,” I finally say, tightening the muscles in my abdomen in anticipation.

Chloe narrows her eyes and stares at my stomach. Her fist is clenched, but she’s still not making any moves to punch me yet. I wait…and wait…and just as I’m about to ask her if she’s gonna do it anytime in this century…

I feel all of the wind being violently knocked out of my stomach as I instinctively fall forward and hunch over in pain. “Holy fuck!” I breathe out, waddling towards the couch and falling backwards. I grip my stomach in pain, the stinging of her blow still burning my skin. “Are you trying to fuckin’ kill me?”

She rushes over to my side at once, an apologetic look gracing her face. “I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

“Holy fuck!” I say again. “Who the fuck taught you to hit like that?”

I’m pathetically leaning back against the pillows on the couch as I watch her shrug her shoulders at me. “My older brother and I used to box each other when we were kids,” she explains, guiltily. She touches my shoulder, “Are you okay?”

I grit my teeth. The intense pain is slowly starting to subside into a duller pain by now…slowly. I look at her and state, “Remind me never to let you punch me again.”

“Well, at least I didn’t kick you in the balls,” she suddenly supplies, jokingly.

A horrified look immediately washes over my face; the thought of it ever happening is enough alone to make me cringe in pain. “Oh god, don’t even joke about that,” I squeak out, weakly.

Chloe giggles, all her previous anger seemingly gone. She reaches her hand out to lift at my shirt, but I quickly recoil from her touch. She tries again. “Let me see it. I’m not gonna hit you again…”

I reluctantly oblige, as she lifts the hem of my t-shirt up. She scrunches her nose. I look down and see the big, red mark she’s left on my skin and finally up at her again. “You do know I’m going to have a bruise by tomorrow from your abusive ways,” I state, informingly.

Her fingertips softly run over my stomach. “Should I get you some ice?” she suggests, finally.

“N-no,” I say, suddenly aware of how close her hand is from touching my dick. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I hiss, quickly scooting away from her again.

Remember Justin…no sex with Chloe, no sex with Chloe…

Can’t.

Have.

Sex.

With.

Chloe.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” I suddenly say at last.

Yeah. I think it's best that I provide some distance between us right about now. Especially if I can’t have sex with her anymore…because it’s getting harder and harder to resist attacking her at this very moment…

“Okay,” she says.

“We’re even now, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“So we’re friends, right?”

“Right.”

I stand up and stretch my hands above my head, “Okay. Well—goodnight, Chloe.”

I quickly scurry off into my bedroom, falling down onto my bed with a sigh.

Fuck, how am I ever going to handle being just friends with her?

{Justin}

I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall, the beginning feelings of euphoria washing over my body. My dick is in some kind of heaven as she slowly lowers herself onto me, inch-by-inch…

She lets out a soft whimper and my eyes immediately pop open again. “You okay?” I murmur, breathlessly.

She leans down and captures my lips in a soft kiss, pulling back and nodding erratically, “Y-yeah…I’m just kinda sore…”

I don’t know what to say. She’s surrounding me, but my dick is throbbing so bad. It’s taking all my restraint not to thrust my hips up and try to go as deep inside of her as possible. Her hands are resting on my shoulders, as she gently grips onto me for support. I stroke the length of her sides, as I glance in the direction of the running shower, watching the hot water continuously slam down into the tub. I can already feel a thin layer of perspiration forming over my skin from all the heat in the room…

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, at last.

I guess her being sore would ultimately be my fault.

I suddenly feel her start to move on me, and once again, my dick is in heaven. Her tight walls are swallowing me whole. She rhythmically rocks herself up and down, riding me so good. Not all girls know how to do this; it’s all about rhythm, and she has it. I grip the back of her thighs, idly pushing up at the short pink skirt she’s wearing while we fuck.

Yeah, I know…this isn’t supposed to be happening.

Just like the last three times we were together weren’t supposed to happen either. But I just couldn’t stop myself then, and I still can’t stop myself now. I mean, friends can fuck each other, right?

I squeeze her breasts through the thin material of her tank top, my mouth finally connecting with the skin of her neck. She moans, as I thrust in synch with her rapid movements. My current position on the toilet seat definitely prevents me from being able to look into the bathroom mirror, yet I can just imagine the steam that is gradually fogging it over.

I pant her name out, “Chloe…”

Our eyes meet in a lustful and heated gaze. I watch her face as she endlessly slides down onto me, breathing heavily, her face flushed. I swear, I could come at any second; her tight heat is driving me insane. She slides down onto me again…and hard.

Shit, my cock is so deep inside of her pussy now. “God damn,” I groan, suddenly grabbing her ass and holding her still for just a moment. It’s not much longer until I feel myself letting go, a violent orgasm taking over my body.

Don’t look at me like that; I couldn’t help it.

She’s like a drug…



****



{Chloe}

I feel my heart beat pick up as I notice him entering the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. I pretend to study the screen of my lap top, nervously bouncing my legs up and down beneath the kitchen table.

God, I hope they don’t get suspicious…

I mean, it’s been at least an hour since we had sex in my bathroom. And I came down at least thirty minutes ago to join them. We made sure to turn the shower water on, so we couldn’t have been too loud, right?

I hope not. They haven’t said anything.

“Well, well, look who decided to finally get up and join us,” Marissa chirps at his arrival.

I glance to my left, watching her as she looks up from her magazine to greet him. My gaze quickly falls upon Justin. He’s standing before us now, taking a seat across from me at the table. He’s got on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his slightly growing hair in a slightly messy state…

When he’s finally seated, he smirks and rubs at his ‘sleepy’ eyes. “Mmm, yeah I was tired,” he replies at last.

“Aww, did you have a good nap honey?” Marissa coos at him jokingly, already back to reading whatever magazine article she’s reading.

Justin smirks in my direction, raising an eyebrow at me. He licks his lips, staring into my eyes with amusement. “Oh hell yes. I had this sweet dream about some sexy mamma riding my d…”

“Eww,” Marissa quickly interrupts. She immediately looks up from her magazine, scolding him playfully, “Too much info there buddy.”

God, he’s such a bastard! He knows he shouldn’t be talking about shit like that and especially not when Chris and Marissa are in the room…

I decide that I should say something about it, too. I mean, it would only be natural for me to act disgusted at his comment, right?

“Yeah, no one wants to hear about your little wet dreams, Justin,” I add, sarcastically. “Right Chris?”

Chris’ head pops out from under the fridge, a confused look gracing his face. He obviously hasn’t been paying attention to the conversation. “Uh—right,” he replies, slowly. “You check the movie times yet?”

“Yeah, I—” I stop short, as I feel Justin’s sock covered foot begin to rub my leg under the table. I roll my eyes at him. Why do I find him attractive anyways? He’s obnoxious.

And I’m such a slut.

I mean, honestly. I don’t know what’s wrong with me here. I don’t even know what I feel for him…I just know that when he tries to resist me, it makes me want him more.

And then we end up having sex. And having sex again.

Shit, I’m supposed to be making him fall in love with me, not becoming his whore. He licks his lips once more, distracting me for yet another moment. God. He’s sexy; he knows he’s hot, and he uses that to his advantage.

I hate him.

But I like him, too.

I shouldn’t.

And I know he’s just using me for ass. I mean, he ignored me for five days after we had sex for the first time. I knew this, and I still had sex with him again. I’ve become pitifully unable to resist him. Yup, I’m pathetic.

“What were you saying before?” Chris suddenly inquires, coming towards the table with a bowl of chips in hand.

I quickly tear my eyes away from Justin’s lips, totally lost as to what was even asked of me in the first place. “Um…I don’t know?”



****



{Justin}

From my slouched position on the couch, I eye both Trace and Darnell with inquisitiveness. Apparently, I wasn’t just invited over to Darnell’s place to chill; I was invited because I need to know something. I’m wondering why they made me sit down to hear whatever needs to be said. And why do they seem to be dragging this whole process of telling me out anyways? I don’t know why, but the way they keep fidgeting is, quite frankly, starting to scare me.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, firmly.

Trace shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers on his knees; he’s looking anywhere but at my annoyed face.

Darnell just clears his throat, staring at his shoes.

Fucking idiots. This is really starting to get irritating. “Hello? I asked a question,” I snap, agitatedly.

“Err…” Trace suddenly supplies, trailing off.

“Well…” Darnell begins.

I roll my eyes. “Well what?”

“I fucked up, man,” Darnell finally says, sighing. He looks at me with an apologetic face. “The thing is….well um….Lisa and uh, Elise were over here last night….” he trails off, stuttering nervously.

Um okay? Is that supposed to piss me off? Did he have a threesome with them or something? Because I really don’t care if he hooked up with that bitch—I don’t give a fuck about Elise. Once again, I pry answers out of them, “Uh, so?”

Darnell begins to explain once more, “And we were sort of drinking… and…”

My eyes dart to Trace, who is peculiarly quiet at the moment. My stomach is in a tight knot now; the anticipation of whatever is going to be said is torturing me. “Okay, and?”

Taking a deep breath, Darnell finally continues, “Look, Elise kept pushing about you and Chloe. She was askin’ us all these questions, and—and somehow I kinda blurted out—I told her about the bet,” he cringes, as he finishes off.

My stomach sinks at his words. I can feel my heart rate picking up at about a thousand notches. My face feels hot, my palms sweaty. I stare at them disbelievingly for a second. This can’t be happening. I mean, it just can’t be. I must be dreaming—having a nightmare or something.

This can’t be happening.

I feel like my chest is going to explode as Darnell weakly says, “I’m so sorry, man. I was so fucked up, I wasn’t even thinking right…”

“Elise just left a little while ago this morning, J. I’m sure you could get to Chloe and tell her first before…” Trace suddenly blurts out his suggestion, trying to ease the situation some.

My eyes land on his boorishly. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I crack, angrily. “Fuck!”

I stand up and hold my hands behind my neck, pacing back and fourth in front of them. I’m trying to control myself here. I’m trying to control the intense anger—fear— that I’m harboring inside at the moment. “She’s probably already telling her as we fuckin’ speak!” I yell, loudly. “Do you know what this means? Chloe is going to hate me!”

“But—but you said you guys didn’t have sex with each other, right?” Darnell suddenly asks, helpfully. “So technically, you didn’t really even win the bet. So if you just explain to her that you like her and the bet was stupid, I’m sure she’ll forgive…”

I barely even process his hopeful words though. My brain is in utter agony right now. I never told them that I had sex with her; he doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s talking about. Of course she’s not gonna just forgive me! My God, what the hell am I going to do now?

Plopping down onto the couch, I briefly notice the guy’s sympathetic faces. I quickly look away and stare at the wall. I feel as though I could breakdown and cry right now, but that would just be pussy of me to do.

I’m going to lose her; it’s just as simple as that.

Fuck, why am I just now realizing that I actually at least maybe care a little bit about her?

Why is the thought of losing her so torturous?

I guess it doesn’t matter anyways; there’s nothing that I can do or say that will ever make her understand.



****



I round the corner of our apartment wall and head towards the living room. I can hear voices. My hands are shaking with apprehension. I know Chloe’s in there, and I know I’m about to get what I deserve.

God, I’m so scared of how she’s going to react. I just know that Elise told her everything already; I know I have no chance of redeeming myself with her at this point.

Chloe’s going to look at me. I’m going to look at her. And I’ll see the perfect girl that she is. And then she’ll see the asshole that I am. And then…

“Hello Justin,” comes a sweet female voice.

What the hell?

I immediately gulp, my eyes taking in Chloe’s face. She doesn’t look angry or even upset. I mean, I know by now how she looks when she’s pissed. And she doesn’t look like that right now.

Calm. Beautiful. Smiling at me…

My gaze switches to Elise. I look at her for a moment, taking in the sugary sweet smile on her face. There’s no doubt about it, she’s probably one of the most gorgeous women alive, yet the way she's looking at me is just—scary.

“I said hello Justin,” she repeats herself, once more.

I don’t understand what’s going on at the moment… I really don’t.

All I know is that I’m scared to find out.

“Uh hi,” I eventually bring myself to say. My voice cracks weakly, before finally, I finish, “Hi Elise.”

{Justin}

I let out a breath of air as the front door closes. Now I’m left alone with just one woman.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” she asks me, rudely.

I open my mouth to speak, but her words quickly interrupt me, “Just shut the fuck up, Justin. I don’t even wanna hear your disgusting voice…or your sorry ass excuses,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Listen, I—”

“I said I didn’t want to hear your excuses,” she snaps, angrily. “She’s gone now so you have no one to impress.”

She’s right. Chloe’s gone.

She kissed my cheek and left; she had to go to work. Elise said she was going to leave right behind her, but apparently she had other plans. Other plans to attack me—or something equally as bad. God how this is so fucked up.

“Okay,” I say, quietly. I hate to oblige her requests, but what else can I do? I don’t know why she didn’t tell Chloe about the bet; all I know is I have a really, really bad feeling about all this…

“Do you love her?” Elise suddenly asks me out of the blue.

My head quickly snaps up from the living room carpet. I stare at her in contempt. I really hate this girl. Who the fuck does she think she is? She’s gonna try to threaten me. I know where this shit is going now. “That’s none of your fucking business, bitch,” I snap, harshly.

Her eyes narrow at me. “I really wouldn’t be getting attitude if I were you, Justin.”

Stupid slut has a point.

And then she smirks at me. “So, do you love her?” she pries again, calmly repeating her question.

“N-no,” I finally stutter at last.

“No?”

“What do you want me to say, Elise? Why the fuck would you care what I feel about her anyways?” I ask, scowling at her. “So you can have something to hold over my head and threaten me about?”

Elise tosses her hair back and shifts in her seat. She’s obviously unaffected by my line of questioning. “So you don’t love her?” she repeats.

Damn it. She’s not going to let up on this, is she? She’s playing some sort of mind game with me here. I just have yet to figure out what the goal in all of this is. “No,” I finally grit out my answer. Yeah, that’s right; she’s really dumb if she thinks I’d honestly tell her anything about what I feel for someone else.

“So you are just using her.”

My skin suddenly crawls with anger as I snidely correct her, “No, I care about her.”

“Hmm…”

I watch as she observes her fingernails, then brushes off her pants. She suddenly begins to stand up. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she walks over to where I’m sitting on the couch and looks down at me. “Let’s get something straight here. I’m not doing this as a favor to you. And I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for you...”

I bite my lip and wait for her to continue.

“I’m not gonna tell her about your lame ass bet,” she remarks, snidely.

Oh God. Thank you God. I mean, is she actually serious? No way. She’s fucking with me.

“But I’m only not doing it because Chloe’s my friend.”

She shoots me one last dirty glare before turning on her heel to leave. Just when I think she’s about to be gone, she turns around and adds, “I meant what I said earlier. You’re pathetic. And Chloe deserves someone…someone so much better than you.”

I nod. Maybe she’s right about that, but that doesn’t mean…

“Oh and one last thing, Justin.” Her voice grows sweet as she finishes, “I’m also not telling her this because I don’t need to. You see, karma’s a bitch, sweetheart. Trust me; you’ll realize that soon enough.” She smirks at me and waves her hand as she heads away once more, “So I guess I’ll see ya around.”

I wait until I hear the slam of the front door shutting before I let my head crash against the back of the couch. Shit. What am I gonna do? Chloe can’t find out about this. I mean, she just can’t. And I don’t know whether or not to believe Elise at this point. She didn’t tell Chloe yet though, so maybe she is telling the truth…



****



{Chloe}

I walk inside his door and look at him in surprise. I hear a sniffle emit from his body, see his shoulders shake with the movement. I’m sort of in shock right now. I’ve never seen Justin cry before. I just stand here for a moment, before finally, I gently ask, “Justin, are you okay?”

I close the door behind me, as I carefully make my way towards his bed. I sit down beside him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He rubs at his eyes and then his nose, hiding any sure tracks or traces of his tears. “What’s wrong, Justin?” I ask, worriedly. Guys don’t just cry for any reason; at least not the ones that I’ve ever known.

“Justin?” I pry when he doesn’t answer.

“My mom just called,” he says, softly.

“What’d she say?” I ask him, soothingly rubbing my hand up and down his back. Poor thing, he looks miserable. Even I feel sorry for him. “Is there something wrong?” God that was a stupid question. Obviously there’s something wrong for him to have been crying. I’m such a dumbass sometimes…

“My grandpa died.”

I take in a sharp breath of air, and then I’m saying the only thing that comes to mind at the moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? It’s not like you killed him,” Justin shakily comments, tears in his voice.

“Come here,” I immediately say, grabbing him by the side. Justin turns in my direction, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He buries his head in my shoulder and sniffles against my skin. I rub at the back of his neck, petting his fuzzy head. He squeezes me tightly and whispers, “Chloe…”

“Shhh, don’t talk. It's okay sweetie…” I comfort him, gently.

He obeys my orders and grows silent again, just letting me hold him. We stay like this for a few minutes as his breathing lulls to a calm state. When he finally pulls away to look at me, his eyes are dark blue—intense with emotion. “I’m leaving tonight,” he says to me. “I’ll be gone for a week.”

I look down at my hands. A few months ago, I would have rejoiced at his leaving for a week. Now I don’t feel so happy about it. “Oh,” I whisper.

“I’m going back to Tennessee to be with my family and…” His voice cracks as he finishes off, “and to go to the funeral.”

A silence falls over us for a moment. Eventually, I softly ask, “Were you and your grandpa close?”

“Yes, I’m very close to both my grandparents,” he answers me, sadly.

I gulp and nod. My eyes meet his once more. “So—are you all packed to go and stuff?”

“Yeah. Trace is actually picking me up and taking me to the airport in about fifteen minutes. I was gonna leave a note if you and Chris didn’t get home in time—but uh just—just let Chris know what’s going on for me, okay?”

I nod my head. “Yeah, yeah I will.”

Another silence creeps over the room. I really don’t know what to say. I mean, what is there to say in situations like this? Nothing. So I just stay quiet, staring at the wall and ever so often, looking over at him to see his face.

Our eyes suddenly meet and Justin’s voice sparks another conversation, “Do you think I’m a horrible person, Chloe?”

“Why are yo—”

He’s looking down at his hands now as he flatly states, “I do.”

“Justin, I don’t think you’re a horrible person,” I say, trying to convince him otherwise. This is the first time that I’ve ever seen him like this. I don’t know—it’s just weird. It’s sort of like I’m seeing some genuine part of him or something. I don’t quite know how to explain it to you. I guess I just feel like he’s actually being real right now—real and unguarded.

“You used to.”

I sigh. “Things have changed…you’ve changed.”

He shrugs his shoulders and looks up at me again, “That Alex guy. You wanna be with him, don’t you?”

Alex. I haven’t seen him in a few days. I don’t even know anymore. “I—I don’t know,” I answer him honestly.

Justin solemnly nods his head. “But you don’t wanna be with me,” he whispers, matter-of-factly.

“It’s not that I…”

He smiles at me sadly and interrupts me before I can even get started. “Look, don’t worry about it,” he says. “I understand.”

He really doesn’t. He doesn’t understand at all. “I don’t think you do.”

“It’s probably better this way, anyways, you know. Someone like you should be with…”

Just when I thought he was being a genuine, sweet and caring person--someone with a real heart--he’s going to go and insult me. I wonder what exactly type of person Justin thinks I should be with. He’s probably going to say something like a dull, mundane book nerd. “Someone like me should be with who?” I pry, at last.

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling as he quietly mutters, “Someone else who’s perfect, too.”

My heart immediately drops into my stomach at his words. Guilt, flattery, and even more guilt wash over my entire body at once. If only he knew. God, if he only he knew…if only he knew how imperfect I truly am; what a backstabbing, deceiving person that I am. Remorse floods through my veins as I quickly argue, “Justin, I’m not perfect,” I say. “I’m really not.”

He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. I look down at where we’re touching. He sighs, and says, “To me you are.”



****



“So I guess I’ll see ya when you get back, huh?” I smile, weakly. Justin glances down at his watch and nods. He drops his duffle bag to the ground and reaches out to hug me goodbye. “Call me when you get off the plane, okay? Just so I know you made it.”

He pulls back and nods at me. “Sure.” He reaches out and taps my chin. “I’ll see ya later then.”

And then he turns to leave. I watch as he starts to head away. He’s walking towards Trace’s car. A part of me is so sad that he’s leaving, and I don’t even really know why.

Suddenly, Justin’s back is no longer facing me and fading off into the distance, as he is now hurriedly making his way back over to me again “Listen, Chloe…” he quickly starts, “I know you think you can’t trust me. And I know I don’t have the best rep with women, that you think I’m just a player…”

I begin to protest, “I don’t thi—”

Justin quickly interrupts me, though.“I need you to do me a favor while I’m gone.”

I bite my lip. I can’t tell him no. Not when his grandpa just died, not when…well I just can’t say no. “Okay.”

He steps forward and comes closer. He grabs my face in his hands and looks down at me. “Will you please think about giving us a chance?” he finally whispers.

God, how can he ask me to do the one thing that I can’t possibly do? I cannot give us a chance, at least not a….

“And I mean like…a real chance, Chloe.”

Yeah, at least not a real chance.

“I know, it’s a lot to ask, but I just really wanna…be with you,” he says, honestly. “Please don’t say no now, though. I don’t think I could handle it. I just want a chance with you. I know I don’t deserve you, but…but I can change. I really can, and I….”

Trace honks his horn, obviously annoyed at how long we’re taking. Justin sighs and begins to pull away from me again. “I don’t know how you feel about me, but please just think about us….together. And when I get back, you can just—just tell me if you think you and I could ever—be.”

He leans down and places a quick kiss on my lips. And then this time he really does disappear. He runs over to the car and hops in. I watch as Trace’s vehicle fades away.

I watch as I wonder to myself how and when everything changed on me. When did things get so complicated? And most importantly, how am I ever going to find the strength to break his heart?

{Justin}

She finally steps out of the coffee shop, and I couldn't be more happy. I smile at her as she heads over to where I'm leaning against the wall and waiting for her. She looks good. Really good. I missed looking at her. I missed her. "Hey sexy girl," I greet, brightly.

She smiles and reaches out to hug me. "Hey you," she says, sweetly. "Welcome home."

"Thanks." I pull away and hold out my hand for her. "How was work? You ready?"

Chloe nods her head and grabs onto my outstretched hand as we begin to walk down the streets of Chicago. "Work was typical. What about you? How was... it?" she asks me.

"It was fine," I answer. "Glad to be home, though."

"Yeah."

We walk on in silence for a little while after that. And if you must know, I'm a little nervous right now. She still hasn't mentioned "the talk" we had before I left, but I guess it will come up eventually, right? I didn't really know what to expect when I first saw her again, and I'm sure she'll being it up sometime or another. She has to. Right? Hopefully. If not, I'm gonna have to be the one to initiate the whole conversation again. Which will be just a tad bit stressful on my part, don't ya think? It was already hard enough for me to be honest with her before I left for Tennessee. I mean, I don't even know if I'm ready to be in a relationship again, but....I guess something about Chloe makes me wanna try at least.

I don't know what it is. She started out as just a stupid bet and some stupid challenge I wanted to win, and somewhere along the way she turned into more to me. Wow, it feels good to say that out loud. Anyways, that's enough about all of that for now. I don't wanna sound like too much of a loser, after all. So yeah. Chloe and I are currently stopped at a street corner, waiting for traffic to pass us by. And I think it's time for the start of another conversation. I wonder what she's thinking though. And hmm--what should I say to her?

"I missed you," I confess at last.

"Really?" Her head turns to the side to look at me as she smiles. Raising an eyebrow, she asks, "What'd ya miss about me?"

I smirk to myself as we finally begin to cross the street. "Listening to you bitch at me for eating the last slice of bread....you yelling at me to do my own dishes. You know, the good stuff like that," I reply, jokingly.

Chloe huffs. "Haha, very funny, Justin," she comments, sarcastically.

I squeeze her hand and stare ahead. "I know, right?" I enthusiastically agree. "So what'd ya miss about me?"

"Why, I missed yelling at you for eating my food and for being a lazy ass and not doing your chores, of course."

We both laugh as I feel a drop of water splash against my arm. "Did you feel that?" I ask her.

"Feel what?" Chloe answers me. A second later, and she adds, "Oh--that."

"Damn it. It's gonna rain," I immediately complain out loud.

"Good. I love the sound of rain."

"Well, I hate rain."

"Why?" she asks me.

"Because...." I trail off.

Chloe giggles, "Oh great answer, Justin!"

"I know."

"In order to see sunshine in the end, there would have to be rain in the beginning," she happily comments, all philosophical sounding and shit.

My eyes roll as I quicken our walking pace. I don't want to get soaked on the way home, and the damn rain drops are already becoming a constant. It's sprinkling. "Ha. Where'd ya get that one?" I tease.

"I made it up myself, stupid."

"Did not."

"Fine. I heard it somewhere."

"Only you would remember a saying like that,” I say. “'Cause you're just crazy like that."

"Crazy like Mariah," she sings, jokingly.

"Yup, sounds about right.”

"Justin..."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and walk."



****



{Chloe}

I giggle at him as I take a seat on his bed. He's shaking the water out of his head and mumbling something about how much he hates the damn rain. We got soaked on the way home; and apparently, I thought it was a lot more fun than Justin did. I watch as he quickly pulls off his dripping wet t-shirt and then throws it to the carpet. "I need to change," he mutters, annoyed. "My fuckin' clothes are now soaked."

My gaze drifts upwards from his glistening chest as I casually roll my eyes at him. "Oh gosh, you know you had fun. And it wasn't the end of the world. It was just rain."

Justin works on unbuckling his belt as he briefly glances in my direction to argue, "Yeah right. I bet I'm developing a nasty cold as we speak...all thanks to the rain."

Had he not been stripping right now, perhaps I'd be able to come up with a decent reply to that comment. However, I haven't seen Justin in a week. I haven't had sex in a week either. And let me to tell you, sex and Justin are sounding really good right about know if ya know what I mean. Damn. I wish that he'd come jump me or something, but I'm sure he won't. Especially after what he said to me before he left...

God, I've been trying to forget about all that, and of course I have to bring it up to you. I'm still avoiding the whole talking it out with him thing that I'm sure I'm gonna have to do sometime or another. I just... I really don't know what to do. So basically, I've been trying to block it from my mind altogether. That way I don't have to deal with it. Yeah ,that's such a great plan, I know.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?" Justin whines, kicking his jeans off and suddenly snapping me out of my thoughts.

Hell no I wasn't listening; I was too busy molesting you with my eyes. "Um, yeah," I quickly respond instead. "That's really great, Justin," I add, neutrally. Perhaps that will be a good response to whatever the hell he was talking to about.

"You think it's great that I could possibly die of pneumonia?!" he exclaims, exaggeratedly. "Thanks a lot, Chloe..."

Oh Lord. I can't take it anymore. Perhaps I will just molest him; at least he'll shut that annoying mouth of his. "Justin, shut up and get your ass over here now!" I immediately demand.

His eyes widen and his mouth drops open in shock. "Why should I? You're a woman. I'm a man!" he starts, lamely. "You can't make me! You can't just tell me what to do..."

Oh my God, aside from wanting his ass, I'd really like to smack him in the face right about now. He's such a blatant moron at times. "Justin, you're being really annoying. Just come here," I say, interrupting his ridiculous ranting.

I silently rejoice as he finally shuts up and begins to walk his practically naked body towards me. He sits down beside me on the bed and turns his expectant stare onto my face. "There. Are you happy now?" he mutters.

"Yes."

"Why did yo--"

I grab his face in my hands and quickly lean forward, attaching our lips with an urgent kiss. My hands slide down his damp skin, from his cheeks to his neck, until finally they are resting on his broad shoulders. Justin quickly gets over his shock, and soon enough, he's kissing me back. His soft lips repeatedly move against my own, over and over again, in our own little sweet rhythm. His mouth catches my bottom lip as he gently pries his tongue against my own. I feel his hands tug at my wet t-shirt. We pull away from each other and he hastily lifts the white material over my head.

Our lips meet once more as Justin cradles my neck between his hands. His fingers tangle in my wet hair. He pulls away from me once more as his mouth begins to attack my neck instead. He places kisses up and down; and it's all just making me feel a bit faint...

And before I know it, he's inside of me, passionately thrusting into my depths. Making love to me. His face is buried in my ear, whispering sweet things that I'm not even really comprehending.

I mean, seriously...did I just say that? I think I did.

I think--no I know, somehow, this time with Justin--well it's just different.



****



{Justin}

My neck is resting above my head inside my crossed arms as I lie next to her and stare at the ceiling in peace. The echo of rain crashing against our roof creates a soothing hum inside the room. Chloe's finger traces a line on the side of my chest as she inquires, "How'd that happen?"

She's referring to the small scar I've got. Most don't notice it, and you have to be real close to tell that it's even there. "You don't wanna know," I say, recalling just how I'd gotten the mark.

"Yeah, I do," she insists. "Tell me."

"I was like eight or something. I was riding my bike, and I see this chick who was a grade higher than me. I had this big crush on her or whatever. Well, I guess I was paying too much attention to her because I ran into the side fence, and one of the loose wires sliced my side open and then I fell..."

It starts off gradual, low and gentle, before suddenly her loud laughter is overtaking my sob story. She buries her head in my chest, as her body shakes with amusement.

"It was not funny," I whine pitifully, pulling her off of me. "I was humiliated in front of Shayla Parks, Chloe! The hottest girl on campus! And plus she laughed at me...shut up Chloe!" I pout. Yes, she still hasn't stopped giggling...

Finally, Chloe sobers up and lifts her head to look at me. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she excuses, amusedly. "That was really sad...." she trails off.

Just as I'm about to lay on my guilt trip, she immediately starts cracking up again. Ugh. "And still you laugh," I mumble. "Thanks. Really."

"I'm sorry," she gasps. "It's just...the image of you crashing into a gate... Yeah, so not funny..."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah yeah. Laugh all you want."

Chloe suddenly interrupts my complaints as she leans down and kisses my scar. She props her elbow on the pillow and rests her head in her hands as she looks at me again. "I'm done. Listen, I'll tell you an embarrassing thing that happened to me in front of one of my crushes back in the day so we're even."

"What happened?"

"Okay, well, I had like no boobs back in the seventh grade. Anyways, I had a crush on this guy Jeremy, and he was going to be at my friend’s birthday party. I wanted to look really hot so I stuffed my bra and when I was finally talking to him at the punch bowl, he pointed out that some of tissue was riding up from my shirt."

"That's not so embarrassing."

"Justin! It is too!"

"Well, at least you don't have to stuff your bra anymore," I say, encouragingly.

Chloe rolls her eyes. "Yeah right. Now I just need to get a boob job since they still suck even now."

"Not uhh," I argue. "I really like them."

"Whatever," she says.

"I do," I insist. "They're nice and soft and....round."

Chloe laughs at me. "Yeah, but I bet you like big ones better."

"I still like yours."

"So that's what you like best about me? My small boobs?"

"No, I like your hot pussy," I smirk.

She immediately smacks my chest. "Justin! Don't be obnoxious! That's not romantic."

Oops. "You know I'm just kidding with ya girl. I like your...eyes," I pause. "And your hair. And your nose. I like everything."

"Uhuh."

"What do you like about me best?"

"Your hands. And your fingers."

Ha. I bet so. "Yeah, you like it when my fingers are inside of your hot pussy, don't you?"

Chloe hits me again. "Justin! Stop being dirty."

I laugh. "Why? C'mon Chloe, say something naughty to me."

"No."

"Pleaaaase."

"Why?"

"It turns me on."

She rolls her eyes. I wait for her to say something, and it looks like she's deep in thought, before finally...

"Um.....you can stick it anywhere, Justin."

She snorts and I laugh, closing my eyes in exasperation. "Oh my God, you're not allowed to speak anymore," I say, at last.

"Why? That was hot!" Chloe says.

"Oh yeah," I play along. "It was hot. It made me really horny for you...." My phone rings, and I quickly take my hands from behind my head, leaning over to grab it off the nightstand. I know that ring tone. "It's my mom," I explain. We talk for a few minutes, and then I'm handing the phone over to her. "She wants to talk to you."

Chloe's eyes widen at me as she looks away from whatever she'd been staring at before. "Me?" she whispers. "Why..."

I watch as she grabs the phone I'm prying into her hand. She gingerly brings it up to her ear. "Hello?" she asks, doubtfully. There's a pause as she listens to whatever my mom is saying. God, I hope she's not embarrassing me. "Oh really? Well he's doing good I think. He's not lying..."

When their conversation is done, and Chloe finally snaps my phone shut and hands it over to me, I look at her inquisitively. "What was that about?"

"Your mom asked me how you were doing. She said that she wanted to hear from someone else because you always sugarcoat your feelings in order to prevent her from sadness," she quotes. Jesus, my mother is so dramatic.

"Oh, and she said that you talked about me, and she wants to meet me. And she told me to get her number from you so that I could call if you're ever being obnoxious. She says that she can regulate, that she'll put you in your place."

"Yeah right," I snort. "Like I'll ever give you her number."

Chloe smirks and pats my chest. "Don't worry, she said you would react like that. And also, she said that Chris has her number too so I can just ask him for it instead."

I immediately groan. "Oh shit..."



****



{Chloe}

"You had me at hello."

"Aww, Justin," I say. "Did you hear that? This movie is too adorable."

No answer.

I look away from the television where we're watching Jerry Maguire, only to find that he's fast asleep. His mouth is slightly parted, his eyelashes tickling his face.

I smile at the sight. He's so pretty. And he's cute when he's sleeping.

Something quickly steals my attention away from Justin. My heart leaps into my throat at once. Pounding with intense worry at the sudden jingle of his doorknob.

Shit. Oh my god, oh my god.

Someone is trying to get inside here, and there's only one person who it could possibly be...

{Chloe}

There are no words to describe how utterly and completely terrified I am in this very moment. It's almost as if I’m stuck here in his bed, too shocked in these minuscule seconds to even attempt at doing something logical; something logical like trying to hide somewhere perhaps?

But my head is so clouded over, hazy with this sudden fear, guilt, and shock that I barely comprehend the gentle tapping I can hear coming from his door. Shit. The door! How the hell could we have been so stupid as to not lock th…

A gasp suddenly leaves the mouth of our unexpected visitor as their head inevitably and cautiously peeks inside the quiet room. Instinctively, I tighten the gray sheet that's providing in covering my naked flesh, my troubled eyes suddenly colliding into an intense set of brown ones. For my entire life, I have always been told that the truth always has a way of coming out--and for my entire life, I have always been a firm believer in this little fact of nature. And I mean, God--somewhere--somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew our time would come, too. I knew we couldn't go on like this forever; sneaking behind everyone's back, hooking up despite our promises to Chris that we wouldn’t...

I realized this. I did. I realized in the back of my mind that Justin and I were going to get caught someday and still I...

The surprise is blatantly apparent in the shaky voice that interrupts my jumbled thoughts, uttering, "I'm--I'm—wow--”

The door suddenly slams shut, so harshly that my already erratically beating heart picks up another few painful beats. My slightly watery eyes quickly glance down, only confirming that Justin still remains totally unaffected by this situation. He's still very much into his deep sleep. And somehow, I really wish that he was awake. Awake to help me figure out what to do at this point because I just don't fucking know what to do. I honestly don’t.

No, no! I don't have time to wake him up right now though. No time to explain what just happened to him.

Not yet anyways…not before I stop her.



****



After throwing on whatever items I first spotted off of Justin's floor to cover myself up, then frantically searching the kitchen and living room with no luck, it’s almost a miracle to find that she's still here. I say a silent thank you to the heavens above as I cautiously walk inside Chris' room. It looks like she's packing an overnight bag for him, but I’m not exactly sure of anything at this point.

It takes me a moment to find my voice, but eventually I gather the strength up and start to speak. "Marissa, I--"

Her cold eyes quickly shoot up from the black bag she was stuffing with clothes before I joined her. "I'm not so sure that this is a good time to talk to me, Chloe."

I bite my lip and step back a little at the utter harshness that laces her voice. Marissa has never spoken to me like this before; we've always gotten along brilliantly, and there's never been a time when she was angry with me.

Until now. And because of this, I don't know what to do, how I should handle this situation exactly. But I know I have to at least try. "Please, Marissa, just let me explain what you saw in there before you..."

"Tell Chris?" she finishes off for me, scathingly.

I was going to say leave.

Nonetheless, her version hits me with great force. My throat tightens as I ring my hands together in agony. I deserve this; I know I do, but it still doesn't make this moment feel any less torturous than it already is. "Marissa, please," I start to beg her. "Please don't do that," I whisper. "At least let me--us--be the ones to tell him. Please."

She stares at me for a second, her face softening just a bit at my words. She's still extremely mad, but I think I've at least convinced her to talk this out with me for a few minutes. Taking a seat onto the bed, Marissa lets out a loud sigh and points in my direction. "Sit down."

The bed shifts slightly downwards due to my weight as I take a seat beside her in pure shame. In fact, I’m so ashamed that I can't even bring myself to look into her eyes. With my shoulders slumped, I stare into my lap and pray that she will start the conversation we’re about to have. I honestly don't even know what I'm going to say. I really don't. What can I say that will ever make things alright again?

"I'm assuming it's safe to say that what I just saw in there…was exactly what it looked like."

I have no right to feel like breaking down into tears, but I do right now. I really do. Desperately trying to hold my emotions inside, I do all that I can manage at the moment and meekly nod in agreement with her statement.

Another loud sigh escapes her mouth, an incredulous, disappointed giggle falling from her lips next. There's a brief silence before she begins to speak again. "You know what, Chloe? Chris adores you. He adores Justin," she starts, knowledgably. "And I remember when I first met him; I had wondered how he could be so close with two people that were a few years younger than us. I wondered why he had taken you guys in as roommates, when he obviously didn't need the money to support himself. But you know what? I quickly realized why," she continues. "He considers you two family. Family, Chloe."

Despite how hard I've been trying to hold them in, two defiant tears slowly trickle down my cheeks as I listen to her speech.

"He thinks of you two as the two younger siblings he never had, do you realize that?" she demands.

"Marissa, I know he does," I whimper, my voice cracking with anguish. "I know..."

"And do you know how much he used to hate it when you and Justin couldn't even manage to get along with each other?" she asks me, pausing only a moment before continuing, "Well, I'll go ahead and fill you in. He hated it. Couldn't stand it sometimes. But he dealt with it. And then, all of the sudden, one night he tells me he catches you two kissing. I didn't believe him at first, truthfully. But after I saw how upset he was about it, after he told me why he was worried about you two messing around, I understood."

"I know, I understand wher--"

"No you don't!" Marissa cries, boldly cutting me off. "You don't understand because obviously you didn't give a shit about him when you decided to go behind his back and keep this from him!" she exclaims, loudly.

I can't even see clearly any longer. My tears of guilt and remorse are now at a constant flow. "I'm so sorry," I say, at last. "I never meant for it to end up hurting him..."

"Well, it's going to," Marissa interrupts me, matter-of-factly. "And how do you think I feel now? I don't keep things from Chris; we're one hundred percent honest with each other, Chloe. You can't just expect me to keep this from him like you two have chosen to do."

"I don't!" I immediately cry, dejectedly. "If you'll just allow us to tell him, maybe it will..." I trail off, weakly.

Maybe it will what?

I don’t know.

"Soften the blow?" she whispers, finally. "Well, I hope so. I really do.”

My eyes quickly slide up her jeans, her white t shirt, and finally to her round face. I look at her in surprise. Does that mean she's going to at least let us be the ones to--?

She nods her head, as if she knows what I’m wondering. “If you promise to tell him, I’ll give you my word and keep it to myself. You know that I love you, Chloe. This doesn't change that, but I'm still really hurting for my boyfriend. When he's upset, I'm upset, and when he's hurting, I’m hurting."

I nod sadly. She makes complete and total sense. And I'm lucky she doesn't abhor me because she really has every right to hate my guts right now. She's a loyal person--and Chris--he's the most loyal, giving guy anyone could ever meet. He didn't deserve to be lied to, didn't deserve to be kept in the dark about us, and didn’t deserve us to betray his trust like we have. "I'm so scared to tell him, Marissa. I just, I don't know how I let myself..." I trail off after a while of silence.

"Do you love him?" she asks me.

"Of course I love him! He's my best friend. I..."

Her hand swiftly reaches out and covers my own trembling one. "I meant Justin.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, are you two serious? Are you in love with each other? What are you two doing together? Because you do know that whatever the answers to these questions may be, they are going to effect what happens between you guys in a huge way. Maybe even the way Chris feels about the whole situation.”

"Marissa," I say her name, shakily. "I don't...I really, truly don't know any of the answers to those questions."

And that's the honest truth.



****



{Justin}

I can feel the vein bulging in my forehead as I listen to her finish explaining everything that just happened tonight. Jesus Christ, this wasn't supposed to happen. It's all a fucking nightmare, and I really just wish I could go back to sleep right now and make it all go away; pretend like it isn’t really happening to us. Yeah. That would be good. And maybe I would never wake up again…

Her tear stained face does little to lighten my dark mood. "So how long do we have to tell him?" I ask her, reluctantly.

Chloe shrugs her shoulders at me. Solemnly, she answers, "He's staying at her place tonight. So um, I guess--I guess when he gets home tomorrow."

I reach my arm out and wrap it around her shoulders when her eyes grow teary looking again. Scooting closer to her on the couch, I twist my mouth to the side before saying, "Don't cry, Chloe. Everything's gonna be fine," I assure, softly. I wish I really believed that myself. I don't want her to worry herself into a state of misery though. I'm just as afraid to tell Chris as she is...just as afraid that he'll never speak to me again, but I can't let her know this right now. And I can't bear to watch this—to watch her cry. "Please...don't cry," I plead with her once more.

Burying her face into her hands, she does little to calm my nerves as she immediately starts to sob against my side. "I can't help it," she mumbles to me between her cries, “I'm such a horrible per-person!"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I lean over and kiss her temple. I gently squeeze her shoulders. In my best ‘comforting voice’, I say, "You're not a horrible person, Chloe. We just--we made a mistake. Everybody makes them..."

She suddenly jumps away from me--so quickly that my eyes widen in shock. She scoots further and further away from me on the couch, adamantly shaking her head in disagreement as she does so. "You don't even know me!" she loudly snaps, out of nowhere. "You don't know what you're talking about, okay Justin!"

I lean back at her frantic voice, holding my hands up in surrender, "Okay...okay...I don’t. I'm sorry!"

Chloe angrily wipes at her cheeks, looking so upset that it almost breaks my heart to watch her like this. "Stop doing this to me," she cries, pitifully.

My eyebrows immediately furrow in confusion. I really wasn't expecting this from her. Fuck, I wasn't expecting any of this, but I still don't know how to react to her behavior right now. Quite frankly, I don't understand why the fuck she's taking it all out on me. I'm not the only one who got us into this situation. It takes two to tango, isn't that the cliché?

"Doing what to you?" I snap, as well. "I haven’t done shit to you! I'm not doing anything!" I yell, pointedly.

She looks up at me and shakes her head. Her brown eyes are all watery with fresh tears, her entire demeanor that of defeat. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, Justin,” she softly says, at last.

A pang of guilt suddenly washes over me at her sullen statement. I didn’t mean to lose my temper with her just now, especially not when she’s like this. Cautiously scooting closer to her again, I reach the neckline of my t-shirt out as an offering. Chloe sniffles and accepts my shirt as her tissue. She wipes the shirt just below her eyes, her salty tears instantly soaking into the gray material, dampening it with all traces of her current sorrow. "Listen,” I start, gently, “We're gonna talk to him and he'll...he'll forgive us, okay? Everything is going to be fine. It really will be, Chloe. Just fine…"

"What are we going to say?" she whispers, desperately. "I mean, what..."

My heart twists at her words, as her sentence trails off into nothing. "I don't know,” I admit. “I guess that depends.”

"Depends on what?" Chloe asks me, confusedly.

I can feel my palms growing sweaty, the butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I can barely breathe. She's right; it wasn't supposed to be like this. But it's now or never, and if I don't bring this up now, I'm afraid she never will either. My hand shakily reaches out grab hers, as I swallow the lump in my throat. I look into her eyes. "Depending on how you feel..." I begin, nervously. “How you feel about...about me that is.”

Chloe's chin slightly trembles at my explanation, and I can tell she's just as scared as I am right now, if not more. "Don't make me do this, Justin. Please don't make me," she pleads, the desperation in her voice surprising me out of my mind.

Why doesn’t she want to do this? Is she really that scared? Or does she really just feel nothing for me? I mean, she’s scaring me. Really scaring me here. She doesn't know how hard this is for me to do. How hard it is to open up again. I force myself to continue, anyways. "C'mon Chloe, just be honest with me," I coax her, smoothly. "I'll be honest if you will.”

I squeeze her hand and take a deep breath when she doesn’t answer me. "I'll--I'll go first then." She still doesn't answer me. I have to use all the strength and courage I can muster inside as I anxiously continue on, "Look, I…I....want us to be together."

It does very little for my self-esteem and my hopes for a happy ending here when she suddenly turns her eyes away from me, hiding from my words. I don't let it stop me though. I can’t. So I continue to speak as I now stare at her cheek while I’m talking. "And I know…that's crazy maybe. I know nobody wants that. I know you have Alex. I know that I've mistreated you for such a long, long time...and I know you deserve someone much better than me....”

I sigh, thinking my next words over for a second. “But it's just...I really want to change that, Chloe. And I don't even know why exactly. I mean, at first, I'll admit I used to hate you."

I can't stand watching her looking away from me anymore if I'm going to continue with this so I quickly pull my hand out of hers and slide to my own side of the couch. Looking at the wall, anywhere but at her, I go on to confess, "But I realize now.... it was only because...because I knew I couldn't have you,” I admit, quietly. “ You were the only person I couldn't get to like me with the snap of my fingers--the only one I couldn't win over, and that drove me crazy about you."

"Justin..." she begins.

"Please, just let me finish," I say, hastily. I mean, it's too late to turn back now…it's too late. "So the more and more that I tried to get you to like me and you didn't, well it just made me want you that much more.”

“Justin, please…”

“No wait,” I insist, interrupting her from interrupting me. “Now that I actually know you and see that you really are as perfect as I thought, I know I could never hate you again...and that's why I think... I think you're the only thing in this world that is worth changing for, Chloe,” I choke out, weakly. “I don't even know how you did it, but you've made me want to be a better person somehow…”

I think I might of stunned her into silence, as she hasn’t tried to stop me this time. Thankful and ready to get this whole confession over with, I take one last deep breath, turning my head towards her again. I was too scared to look before, but I really wanna see her face when I say this to her. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, that I think I'm in lo--"

Chloe hurriedly holds up her hand and blurts out that interruption I was waiting for before. "Please…no! Don’t say it!” she begs me. “I'm sorry, Justin. I'm so sorry," she says, shaking her head.

I watch in amazement, as she quickly jumps off the couch. For a brief moment, she looks down at me in remorse. "I just...I can't do this right now…ever. We can't...”

I bite my lip, my heart dropping into my stomach at her words. No, she isn’t supposed to be saying this to me. She isn’t supposed to be doing this. Chris isn’t supposed to know. Chloe is supposed to love me back. She’s supposed to love me back…

“…and I don't think we should be together.” I barely catch the rest of her sentence, as she continues to destroy my happiness with each word she speaks to me, “I’m really so, so sorry for doing this to you Justin. But I just," her voice cracks, as she sadly finishes, “I just can't be the girl you want me to be. I'm not--if you knew the truth about me-- you wouldn't be saying all this."

I hastily open my mouth to protest, trying my best to ignore the deep sting of rejection that is harboring within me right now. It's as though this has been the month from hell and it's never going to get any better, never going to end. She was my only hope--and now--

"I'm sorry,” Chloe repeats. “I really am. I'm gonna go stay at a friend's tonight. I just need to be alone--and--and I'll be back tomorrow so we can talk to Chris, okay?"

I can feel my own chin trembling now. Of course I'm not gonna fucking cry. I'm not gonna cry over her. I'm not…

But it feels like a knife has been stabbed into my heart and is slowly twisting away at my insides, as I watch her turn around and hurriedly run out of the room. The pain I'm feeling at this moment is exactly why I never wanted to fall in love again.

My god.

I think I need to throw up…

Elise's voice suddenly pops into my head. Karma’s a bitch, sweetheart. I hear the front door slam shut. My breathing picks up as I look around the empty apartment in misery. It's over; I have no one now. And once again, I'm left all alone. Karma is a bitch. Karma is a bitch. Karma. Is. A. Fucking. Bitch. I grip my head in agony, willing the painful words to stop replaying in my mind. Karma's a bitch, Justin.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I've lost my best friend--no, I'm going to lose my best friend tomorrow. And for what exactly? All for a stupid fucking bet that only ended up earning me one thing; my unrequited love.

Yeah...it wasn't supposed to be like this.

{Chloe}

Once more, I squirm on the couch, pulling the thin blanket under my chin in another vain attempt at comforting my currently shot nerves. I can’t sleep. It’s already been four hours of laying here, tossing and turning on these uncomfortable cushions, feeling completely and utterly miserable with my life and everything that is happening in it right now…

Pathetic, yeah? I know.

But his words keep replaying over and over and over again in my head. I mean, it's like no matter how hard that I try or how badly I just want to fall asleep and forget about everything--well, I just can't do that, even as much as I’d love to. I just can't make his damn words go away. And I can't get them out of my head—can’t get him out of my head. It just really seems impossible at this point, quite frankly.

And the worst part of all is that it's truly starting to drive me insane here. Everyone is starting to drive me insane here. Or maybe, maybe I'm just driving myself insane? Either way, the point is, I think I could be going insane.

I can't stand the fact that my life is such a horrible mess right now. Everything is just a disgusting, terrible, and cluttered mess. God, I hate that; I hate when things are in disorder. That's why I'm such a clean and orderly human being: because I hate freaking messes. I even hate that damn word; mess. I mean, what kind of stupid word is that?

So, yup. You’re probably wondering the same exact thing as I am right now, right? How’d I manage to get myself into such a freakin’ mess when I knew that I couldn’t handle living with the consequences that such chaos brings? Well, damn. Guess what? I wish I knew the answer to my own question, but I don’t. It's just all becoming too disturbingly miserable for me to bear, and I can’t even rationalize on any level with myself right now.

Really, I guess more than anything, I feel like I'm trapped. Yes--that's it--I've got myself trapped in this big, huge mess, and I just can't seem to get out of it or even fathom how to possibly get myself out of it for that matter. You know, it's like no matter what I do at this point, how I chose to go about things, someone's going to get hurt in the process. And the worst part is, is that it's him who’s hurting right now. He's the one that put his heart on his sleeve, and I'm the one that just left him hanging high and dry.

And I feel utterly sick for doing that to Justin, for just walking out on him like I did tonight. I really do; I feel so guilty about it, more than you could probably ever believe. But then there’s this other part of me that keeps annoyingly asking, why should I? Why should I feel guilty about what I did to him?

Well, he only said most of the things that every sane girl out there dreams about hearing someday. He only almost said that he loved me. That he would change as a person for me. That I made him want to be a better person. Basically, he only said everything and more than I ever wanted or dreamed of hearing from a man who was declaring his undying love for me…

But then again, that other more pessimistic part of me keeps taunting me with doubts, doubts like maybe this is all some sick joke of his? Some game that’s he’s just playing with me, just like all the other games he’s played with all the other girls in his past. Girls like Elise who are trusting and counting on me not to fall for his whole contrived act. I mean, honestly, maybe this is just a part of his game, and maybe I am just falling for it all: hook, line, and sinker. Elise once said it herself—“once a dawg, always a dawg,” and Justin deserves to pay for all the fucked up things he’s done to woman in his past.

And the thing is I used to believe that. I think there really was a point in time when I truly did agree with Elise and her ploys of revenge on Justin. It's part of the whole reason that I even agreed to the whole job she proposed to me—the job of breaking his heart. I agreed because I thought I would be doing a favor to other women; well that, and just because of the fact that I didn’t know how to say no to her at the time. Then again, I never really thought that I’d ever get to the point where I'd actually have the power to break Justin when I agreed to do this job for Elise either.

So now I need to know, what am I supposed to do at this point? Have I already unknowingly made a choice? I think…I mean…I guess you could say that I've completed my job, couldn’t you? I walked out on him when he said he loved me. How much crueler can you be to another person? And of course, there’s no way I can forget the way that his face looked in that very moment.

Maybe it would be better if I just told Elise that I’d finally completed our deal. I could finally put an end to all this madness, and I could finally try to straighten my life out again.

But God, a huge part of me really believes in Justin. I feel like I know so much more about him than I ever did before. The dynamic of our entire relationship has changed so much in the past few months. So why can't I believe that he’s changed, too?

Shit, I don't know. This is exactly why I can’t go to sleep right now though. My head keeps spinning around and around in all these circles, trying to find some sort of exit that can just get me out of all of this. But it’s all just too confusing right now, and I feel like I’m never going to escape this mess I’ve somehow, unwillingly gotten myself into.

If I decide to go back to Justin and give us a chance, what would that do to Elise and my friendship? She's the first real girl friend that I've had in forever, and I don't want to lose that. I made a promise to her, and it'd be so fucked up of me to back out now when we're so far into the game already. But then, what if she understood? Or how could she? She wouldn’t. Would she believe it if I'd told her that Justin has really changed and that I can’t go through with hurting him because of that fact? I mean, somehow I just don’t think she’d have the faith that I have in him…

And then there's Chris. Oh god, there’s Chris. How is he going to take everything? I'm so afraid he's going to write me off forever when he finds out about Justin and me going behind his back. I mean, he has every right to be upset with us; I'm just terrified to experience the consequences of our actions. And what if he knew that Justin and I were planning on being together after all of this? Would that make him even angrier...or less angry with us?

Once again, I just don't know the damn answer. I have all these fuckin’ questions and absolutely no fuckin’ answers. It’s miserable. I don't know anything. And I'm so sick of worrying about everyone else, when really, all I want to do is be selfish and do what I want this time.

But then again, what do I really want? That's the real question. And just as typical as this is, once more, I don’t think that I even realize the answer to that one, either.

I mean, they always say that you should always follow your heart, but what happens when your heart doesn't know where to go either?



****



My hands start to shake as I nervously take a seat beside him on the couch. I’m sure I’m the last person on earth that he wants to see or talk to right now, but I really feel like we should talk before Chris gets back and we spill our secrets to him.

Shit. Justin won’t even look at me, though. He’s staring straight ahead at the television, and he hasn’t even acknowledged my presence once since I’ve walked in here. It feels as if I’m just a ghost, someone completely voided from his existence. It feels like….it hurts.

“Justin?” I speak his name, hesitantly.

I see him swallow, as he blandly answers me, “Yeah?”

“I—I know that I’m probably not your favorite person at the moment, but—but I really hope that you’ll hear me out before you decide to hate me again. I mean, I know I shouldn’t have just…” I nervously pause for a moment and then continue, “…just left last night, but…”

His harsh voice suddenly snaps me away from my jittery speech, his words haunting me to the core. "Are you going to be the one to tell him or am I?" Justin interrupts me, passively, his eyes transfixed off into the distance.

"Umm...I?" I utter, my head slowly turning to where he’s staring. I can literally feel my insides tremble when I see him, when I hear his voice suddenly breaking into the conversation as well…

"Tell me what?" Chris cuts in, questioningly.

I look back at Justin, away from his face, and then blink a few times, just to be sure that I'm seeing correctly. It's real...he's real; Chris is here, standing before me, glaring at us with inquisitiveness. My eyes quickly dart to my right as I cast another worried glance to Justin. He shrugs his shoulders as if he's still waiting for me to answer his previous question.

I'm completely on the spot, and I have to do something about it. Making up my mind, I decide in a moment’s time that I’m just going to go ahead and be the one to tell him. As hard as this is going to be, I’m just going to get it the fuck over with. Turning my scared eyes back on Chris, I sigh and begin to timidly explain, "I--I'm not sure the best way to tell you this, but um--um Justin and I, well we--"

"What? You two can't make the rent on time again?" Chris jokes, lightly. "Cause you know what I said about that, I--"

"No--we're in love with each other," I quickly blurt out in interference. My skin immediately starts to crawl with apprehension as I can feel Justin's curious and shocked gaze boring onto me from the side. "It's--it's true--we love each other," I say again, emphatically nodding my head at Chris' face which looks troubled, confused, and in denial all at once. "I'm really, really sorry, Chris. We wanted to tell you sooner, but it was just that--"

I'm quickly cut off by his slightly angered voice."This is a joke, right?" he demands.

I turn my head to Justin for some kind of support, but he's just staring off into the distance, like he's in total shock or something. Like he’s not even in the fucking room with us. Fuck. This is so, so very hard. I can feel more tears burning at my eyes; God, I'm so pathetic. How can one person cry so much in only two days? And when everything they’re crying about is all of their own fault anyways?

"No," I finally whisper, reluctantly. "You know I wouldn't joke about something like this..."

The one reaction I never expected to come is suddenly happening; he's laughing. Chris is full on laughing at us. I mean, out of all the possibilities; I expected perhaps thrown objects, perhaps yelling and screaming, but laughing? I look on in worry, as his chuckling quickly comes to a silent halt, as his voice grows very cold, "You two are a fuckin' joke, you know that?" he snaps, harshly.

That--that was more of what I was expecting. My lip suddenly trembles, as I look down at the floor and mutter the only thing I can right now, "Chris, we're sorry….I'm so, so sorry."

"Honestly," he continues rudely, ignoring me all together, "You honestly think he's in love with you, Chloe?"

Justin's head suddenly snaps up from the wall, as if he's just stepped into the room or something. Our eyes meet. "Y-yes," I finally answer, shakily, my gaze never leaving Justin.

Again, Chris laughs. But this time, I realize it's not his normal laugh; it's not his usual mirthful and fun-filled laugh-- it's this evil, bitter chuckling sound, which resembles nothing of the normal laugh I know and love to hear from him. "Like I said, what a fucking joke,” Chris bites. “He’s a fucking player, Chloe. He doesn't give a shit about you; all he cares about is getting some ass--which obviously, I'm assuming you already went and gave up, because why else would he be saying that he loves you?"

"Chris, you know I'm not really like that," Justin suddenly interjects, out of the blue. For a second there, I thought I was going to be the only one who had to defend and explain us. "You know what--"

"What?” he shouts, angrily. This is the most angry that I have ever seen Chris in my entire life. “I know what? I know that Mya didn't think you were man enough and went looking for ass in other places? I know that you thought it gave you the right to screw every chick that walked your way since you got played first?” he demanded, snidely. “Fuck you, you motherfucking piece of shit. All you want from Chloe is another whore to add to the list, and wow--never thought I'd be saying this one, but congratulations Justin, you got your whor--"

I hadn't even noticed him getting up. Through the utter pain of just hearing my best friend calling me a whore, it takes me a second realize why Chris didn’t finish that insult. I now see that Justin is up in his face though, shoving him back by the chest. "Look, man, calm the fuck down," he grits out, stepping away to get some distance. "And don't fuckin' talk about her like that."

Chris quickly steps right back up to him, bridging the small gap between them once more. "Or what?” he demands, coldly. “Huh? You gonna do somethin’ about it, Justin?" And then, in much the same way that Justin just did, Chris reaches his hands and violently shoves at Justin's chest. He stumbles back a bit, as Chris continues on, "A few months ago, I remember you used to talk mad shit about Chloe. But it's not okay for me to call her a whore when it really is the truth now?”

Justin doesn't answer, only steps back, attempting to create distance between them as Chris keeps following his every move. My heart is palpating so hard in my chest, and I can barely breathe in this second. I'm so scared that they are going to fight right now….

Please, God, don't let that happen. This is like watching some kind of nightmare, only I’m awake and it’s not going to just all be a bad dream in a few hours. I can barely find my voice. "You guys..." I try to interject, weakly.

Once again, Chris closes the distance between Justin and himself, pushing him back once more. "C'mon, answer me, you fucking pussy,” he yells. “Or better yet, why don't you just admit you're a fucking bastard and all you're doing is using her?"

"Don't talk about him like that!" I suddenly snap, angrily. Chris is just saying all of these things, and I know he doesn’t really mean them. He’s just hurt. I know he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t.

"It's okay," Justin says, casting me a quick and reassuring glance over his shoulder. Then he turns back to Chris. "I'm not going to talk to you when you're like this," he states, calmly, side-stepping him again. "Maybe you should go cool off or something…”

Chris doesn't budge though, and if anything, he looks even more angry at Justin’s words. "What, you can’t even deny it?" he taunts, harshly. "Like I said, Justin, stop being a fucking pussy."

He shoves him again. Justin looses some of his cool and shoves him back. I bite my lip in paralyzed fear. I just want for this to stop happening…. I'll give anything to make this stop...

Justin growls as he stumbles back a bit from Chris' hard shove. "I'm not gonna fight you, man, so just back the fuck off an..."

A horrified squeal immediately erupts from my throat as I witness Chris' hand instantaneously rising up into the air. He stops Justin in between his words, as in a flash, his fist is pounding into Justin’s cheekbone with what looks to be such heavy force. I quickly jump out of my seat on the couch, running towards them and getting in the middle of the two, pushing at Chris' body. "Get away from him!" I scream at him, loudly. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Chris?"

My teary eyes snap onto Justin, as I carefully push him back. I sit down next to Justin, hesitantly trying to push his hands away. He’s gripping at his face, clutching the spot where Chris knocked his hard knuckles into him. "You didn't have to do that!" I shout in agony, my eyes turning away. Chris is breathing heavily now, his fist clenched at his sides, his teeth gritted in intense anger. It scares me--terrifies me--because I've never seen him this angry before. Chris would never hurt a fly, and now--now Justin is sitting beside me, obviously somewhat wounded by the blow.

Instinctively, I once again try to help him out, pulling his hand away and observing the small, horizontal line that is dripping blood. He’s got a cut.

"Fuck you," Chris suddenly snaps, momentarily bringing my attention away from Justin again. "Fuck both of you," he grits out, weakly. "You two deserve each other. Hope you have fun being his slut, Chloe." He looks as if he's gonna leave, but he quickly stops in his movement and adds, "Oh and yeah, just so you two know--when she cheats on you like the slut she is--and when he fucks you over like the asshole that he is--both of you can go cry to someone else, because I sure as hell will be laughing in your fucking faces...”

The last thing I hear is the slam of the front door, confirming that it’s only he and I again.



****



{Justin}

The slam of the front door does little to soothe my throbbing temples. I weakly lean my head against the back of the couch, as I struggle to push the air out of my lungs. It's not even like I got totally fucked up, but fuck if Chris didn't hit me good. I feel her hand tugging on my arm, and I reluctantly let my hand fall away from my face. I can barely see outta my eyes, they're so glazed over, and maybe one is even fucking closing in on me, I don't know? I attempt to look at her anyways, as I faintly notice the tears trickling down her cheeks. I listen to her shaky breath for a moment, and then quietly, I whisper, "You're not a slut, Chloe. He didn't mean those things."

"I-I know," she answers me, sadly. "Are-are you okay?"

Her hands cup my jaw in place, as she scoots up and inspects my face. I close my eyes weakly, willing the throbbing in my head to stop. "I--shit," I hiss menacingly, her finger gently touching the spot where he punched me, intensifying the pain one hundred and twenty thousand percent.

Chloe immediately shies away, wincing at my pain right along with me. "Sorry...I'm just trying…I mean, you--you're bleeding. I'll be right back."

When she finally comes back, she quickly sets the items she brought with her onto the coffee table. Grabbing a pillow off of the end of the couch, Chloe maneuvers it on the side closest to me and tells me too scoot back. Obediently, I slither over and lay back, allowing her to slide the cushioning below my neck, which is being supported by the armrest. She sits down beside my upper chest area where there's a little free space left on the couch. I close my eyes, as I suddenly feel a damp and cold wash cloth being run over my cut. I whimper just a little, trying to grab it from her hand. Chloe quickly pushes my prying fingers away. "I'm just trying to help you..."

Nothing feels worse than when she lays the heavy, freezing bag of ice onto my face. I hiss in discomfort. "Shhh," she whispers, applying slight pressure. She reaches down and grabs my hand, placing it on the packet of ice. "Here, hold it right like that," she instructs me, calmly.

I halfhearted grab the ice and hold it in place, my eyes still closed, my head still banging in excruciating misery. "Can you go get me some aspirin?" I breathe out, painfully.

She jumps from the couch in immediate compliance. "Yeah, I'll be right back…"

I feel her hovering above me; it seems like only a few seconds later. I weakly open an eye, noticing her crouched down on the floor in front of me, holding out a glass of water. She leans over and puts her hand behind my neck. "Here, open your mouth," she instructs. I do so, and she sticks the medicine inside, lifting my neck up and tilting the water to my lips. "Drink."

I get as much of the liquid as I can down my throat, before I quickly collapse back against the pillow with a sigh. Chloe pulls her hand out from under me. I can't see her because my eyes are closed again, but I can feel the moment she starts to get up, and so I swiftly tilt my head to the side a little. Looking at her through pained eyes, I ask her, “Hey, where are you going?"

She nervously looks around the room before biting her lip at me. "I--I'm going to sit over on the other couch..."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Chloe chokes, shakily. "I just--thought you were mad at me and I don't want to be in your way, or anything like that…”

Closing my eyes again, I sigh, still pressing the ice against my face with one hand. "Did you really mean that?" I whisper, instead of addressing her statement.

"That I'm gonna sit over on the other couch?" she asks me, confusedly. "Or that I think you're mad at me?"

"No," I say. "I meant what you said to Chris. About us being in love?"

She takes in a sharp breath at my words, muttering, "O-oh...that."

"Did you mean it?" I repeat, quietly. I swallow when she doesn't answer me right away. I can't see her, so I can't imagine what her face looks like right now. "Chloe?" I finally ask again.

"Y-yeah, Justin?" she answers me, slowly. My eyes open against their will, only to find that her hand is quickly recoiling from reaching out to my face. I don't know why she's so scared to touch me, but she looks nervous as all hell right now. "Yes. I meant it," she finally whispers, at last.

I start to smile, but quickly stop when it shoots a dagger like pain through my entire skull. "Mmm," I mumble, tiredly. I can’t believe that Chris punched me in the face, but most of all, I can’t believe that she just said that. I was pretty sure that she was a lost battle when she left last night, but now, here she is, and it looks as though she’s changed her mind. I wait for her to say something else, do something else for a few seconds, but nothing ever happens. "Baby? What are you doing?" I eventually ask.

"I-I dunno," she answers me, tearfully. "I'm sitting here. Watching you."

"Why are you so far away? Come here."

I feel her body slowly scoot closer to me, as I reach my free hand out from my side and into the air. "Give me your hand," I order her, lazily.

When I feel her small hand finally land inside of my own, I enclose my fingers around her cold skin. Bringing her hand up to my lips, I silently kiss the skin of her palm and then all five of her finger tips. I lay her hand down on my chest, and sigh. "Don't go over there. Stay with me."

“Okay,” she agrees, quietly.



****



{Justin}

I’ve already resorted to poking and gently shaking, but nothing seems to be working in extracting her from her slumber. Leaning down over her body that is sprawled out onto the couch, I evily stick my tongue inside her earlobe, wincing when her hand comes smacking back and right into the spot where I got hit last night.

"Ouch!" I wail out, slightly pained by her slightly harsh contact. In exaggerated horror, I incredulously continue to whine, "Jesus, woman! Aggressive much? Honestly, I didn't realize the abuse would be starting this early on in the relationship."

Chloe rolls over at my voice, looking up at where I’m hovering above her. She gives me the look from hell, rolling her eyes as she watches me in annoyance. Sarcastically, she mutters, "What in the hell are you talking about, dumb ass?" Ah, the first few sweet words spoken to me by her this morning, aren’t I such a lucky man? Who could resist a woman who calls you dumb ass the first thing she wakes up?

As an afterthought, she continues on to order me, "Stop being a whiny princess Justin; it's too early in the morning for all that."

I tilt my head to the side and squint while watching her in sudden curiosity. I don't know why this idea just popped into my head, but I may as well go ahead ask her about it. "You weren't high last night, were you?" I quickly question her, just a tad bit worried. Now that I think about it, she’s acting a little hostile for the morning time, isn’t she? I mean, shit, she’s the one who is a morning person—not my ass. Oh Lord, what if she was high?! What if she didn't even know what the hell she was saying to me last night? She probably doesn't even remember what happened, does she?! Shit!

"Oh my god--how did you know?" she demands of me, worriedly. "Who told you that!"

My eyes immediately widen in horror, her words confirming my every last fear in the past 32 seconds. I watch as she suddenly bolts up from her laying down position, leaning on her elbows and staring at me in frantic paranoia, waiting for me to answer her questions. Oh my god, this is a--this is a nightmare….

Wake up. I need to wake the fuck up!

"Chloe," I finally gasp, painfully. "What in the hell--how could you--" I begin to stutter.

She hastily collapses onto her back again, interrupting my frazzled inquires all at once. Her head hits the previously abandoned pillow and she begins to laugh her little ass off in her now obviously, utterly amused state. Damn--I knew she was messing with my head with that. I mean, how lame was I to fall for that one? And why did I even ask such a stupid question in the first place? For God's sake people, this is Chloe Marin we're talking about here! Of course she didn't do any drugs last night.

"Justin…" she finally drawls, her giggles slowly wearing off into nothing. "You're such a....well, idiot sometimes. And it worries me on occasion. It really does, sweetheart."

I frown at her words, sitting back with a huff. I was in such a good, a splendid and lovely mood for once in the morning--until I woke her up, anyways. "Chloe," I whine, pathetically. "Why are you being such a bi--" I pause mid-word, quickly realizing that perhaps it'd be wise of me not to finish this question of mine in such an insulting manner. So anyways, being the ultimate P.I.M.P that we all know I am, I smoothly correct myself before I utter that slightly nasty word 'bitch.' I make sure to carefully pronounce each of my syllables in this clever continuance of mine, as I hastily correct myself, "I mean, what I was trying to ask you before was...why on earth are you being such a bi-eww-tah-full ray of sunlight this morning?"

"Well, Justin, I guess it's just cause I'm so freakin' tired!” Chloe answers me, sarcastically. “It's got me in a wonderful mood! And oh!" she suddenly exclaims, snapping her fingers as if she's just remembered something else as well. "And also, I’m probably just wondering to myself why you're even complaining about my attitude this morning-- since well, you know-- it's not often that you're rocking this whole 'Hello, I’m Mr. Happy Sunshine and Butterflies This Morning' status you've got going on for yourself right now..."

I snort at her ridiculous response.

"In fact, you're more of the, "Hello, I'm Mr. Grumpy Ass Timberlake, Who Just Rolled Off the Wrong Side of the Damn Bed, So Do Me a Favor and Fuck Off' kinda guy, don't ya think?" she finishes off, brightly.

"Chloe, I thought you said you loved me," I moan, in an all too pitiful manner if I do say so myself. Oh well, fuck it. "Why aren't you being all sweet to me and taking advantage of all this?” I ask, laying my hands out as if I’m presenting myself to her, “And you know, attacking my body and taking advantage and such like that?"

Poking her lip out in equal dramatization, Chloe reaches out, patting the top of my head. "Aww,” she coos out, “I'm sorry, buster...I was just playin' with you. You know that."

I smile and lean my head in her lap, allowing her to pet my hair. Now this is more like it. "Do you gotta go to class today?" I ask her, curiously.

Chloe reaches her head up for a moment, glancing at the clock on our living room wall. Returning her gaze right back onto the top of my head, she lays back down with a sigh, "My only class for today started about ten minutes ago. "

"Ahh, Chloe," I tisk, jokingly. "How irresponsible of you, young lady. Ditching class and sleeping in...oh the horrors of it all…”

"Yeah well, you're a terrible influence,” she says.

"But do you have to go to work today?" I add, anxiously. "You better not."

Chloe gently pulls on my ear. "Yes, I do have to go into work today. I've gotta be there by three."

"No," I immediately complain with a groan, lifting my head up and staring into her eyes. "You can't go into day. You have to call in sick!" I hurriedly insist.

"Justin, I'm not sick," she shoots back at me, rather argumentatively.

"But cupcake..." I begin to protest once more.

At once, she sarcastically interrupts my words. In a completely mockingly way, she amusedly imitates me, saying, "But sugar cookie..."

"Chlo--ee," I whine, rolling my eyes, unaffected by her teasing because my mind is only on one thing: which of course, is getting my way, mind you. "Stop playin' around. I'm serious girl; you have to call in sick, because--"

"Because why, Justin?" she prods, dramatically interrupting me again.

"Well, let's just say I'll fall into a complete and utter state of depression if you don’t," I begin to explain to her, my tone that of dead seriousness. (Honestly, I could win a freakin’ Oscar for this kind of shit. It's just...brilliant.) "And my entire world will be just...crushed," I continue on. "Oh and... and my heart broken; in fact, I'd probably end up in a hospital from all the agony and internal torture of it all, Chlo." I earnestly sigh, before somberly I add, "Well, that is, if it didn't kill me first, of course."

"Justin," Chloe says, sternly.

I ignore her, another example coming to mind. "...Oh and...there's always the chance that I could get majorly down and start doing crazy shit--you know, crazy shit like-- like slitting my--"

Her hand suddenly smacks at the back of my neck, her voice loudly stopping me from finishing off that sentence, "Justin!"

"Yeah?" I whimper out. She’s so damn violent. Violent, I tell you.

"Why don't you just say that I have to call in sick because you want to spend the entire day with me? Because you wanna be around me more than anything else in the whole entire world?"

I twist my mouth to the side in thought. "Well, I guess that's one way of putting it all," I admit, blandly. Amused, I add, "But I thought my version was just a tad bit better, didn’t you?"

"Justin, why aren't you ever romantic?" Chloe pouts at once, all sadly and shit.

"What are you talking about?" I immediately scoff. Honestly--what kind of twisted question is that? I can be romantic, I mean--I think I've proved that on more than just one occasion by this point, don't you? "I am romantic..." I begin to protest, concluding that fact with a, "...sometimes."

"Not really," Chloe argues with me, calmly. "Like, for example, remember that time I asked you what was your favorite body part of mine?" she asks, pointedly. She doesn't wait for my response as she disappointedly huffs, "Yeah, well, guess what you said in answer to that one. Oh, and I do quote, J: "Your hot pussy" is exactly what you came up with....I mean, you said my hot pussy, Justin!"

"Hey!" I yell, quickly. "I took that back though! Remember, I changed that answer to your eyes instead!" comes my witty attempt at defending myself.

Chloe gives me a look. That look that says, 'get real, bitch.' Ouch...yes, that look. "Yeah, but you didn't really mean it," she scoffs at me, bitterly.

"I...ugh, yes I did!" I stumble on my words, argumentatively. I need to say something sweet here. Something that is romantic, Justin. Think...think. "And God, you know I think your eyes are just absolutely amazing, cupcake," I come up with, finally.

"Oh!" Chloe quickly yelps. "That reminds me! Cupcake! You're always calling me that! And every single time, subconsciously, you're thinking, 'God, what a fat cow she is!' aren't you!?'"

My eyes instantly widen in shock. How the hell did she come up with this shit? I really don't know; this is what happens when women start going crazy with all their psycho-secretive-irrational-bull-shit-games they play with you sometimes. "What the hell? I do not think that at all!" I say, loudly.

"Why else would you name me after a fattening, calorie packed pastry such as a cupcake?" she accuses me, without delay.

"Oh come on," I scoff, incredulously. I don't even have an answer to this one. Honestly, I don't. So instead, I just sensibly argue, "I do not think you're a freakin' cow, Chloe!"

"See what I mean!" Chloe exclaims. "You just said it again! You said, 'you're a freakin’ cow, Chloe!' So thank you, at least you finally admit you think it's the truth.”

"What the fuck?" I retort, exasperated. All of asudden, I'm a little worried about this whole ‘us being in love and in a relationship thing’. Is that what Chloe was waiting for until she hit me with the fact that she....well, she’s a psychotic, bi-polar, something or another maybe? "That's not even what I said, dammit!"

"Yeah," she mutters, scathingly. "But my point is, you really only meant the last half, the 'you're a freakin cow' part of it."

Oh my god, I think I'm going to rip my head off. "CHLOE!"

She suddenly starts laughing at my irate voice, and once again, I realize that she has just fucked around with my head for the second time this morning. Shit. She's really in an evil mood right now, isn't she?

"That was funny," she giggles out, amusedly. "But really, you aren't that romantic most of the time, J," she adds, lightly. "And let's not forget...there's always that little thing you do, where 99 percent of the time, you're staring at my breasts instead of my face when we're having a conversation with each other."

Purposely, I look down at her chest as I jokingly correct her, "Now you know that's not true, baby." I pause, never looking away from her chest even once as I happily add in my smart ass way, "It's much more like I stare at them about--well, I'd probably estimate a very minor 50 percent of the time? While, of course, the other half is spent looking into your stunning brown eyes, my darling cupcake. So then, if I may conclude with my point now, I think that what I’m ultimately trying to say is that all your silly, nonsensical accusations of said '99 percent', are just a tad bit overdoing it, don't ya think?"



****



{Chloe}

"...don't ya think?" He asks.

Oh my god, at last--he shuts up! I think I blocked out practically half of what he was just saying right there. Goodness, how typical that Justin and I would spend our first morning as a couple arguing with each other. Bantering and going back and forth over utter nonsense; discussing stupid shit that really won't make any difference in our near futures. Yup, of course; that sounds just like something Justin and I would be doing.

Oh, yes, and let's not forget that somehow he's managed to avoid the entire point I was trying to make from the very start; the little point I made known, the one which implies that he's not got hardly one romantic bone in his body?

I mean, of course he's done a few sweet things for me, but c'mon! I want him to make me feel all gushy and mushy and happy inside if we're gonna be together. For crying out loud, I'm risking a lot to be with him--so I think the least he could do is sweep me off my feet, right? Not that I'm trying to sound all selfish and needy or anything, and not that his little speech the other day wasn't already practically taking me there; but shit, that was a whole entire day ago! He needs to stop being a pest today and start being that same, charming and too cute Justin again.

But hell, I doubt anything I'm going to say at this point is going to go unanswered. Not without a long winded, witty comeback on his side at least. He's just in one of those moods today, and I guess I sort of am too. Yes, yes, I'll admit I've been kinda of, a little sporadic this morning since he woke me up. But that's only because A) I really was tired when he first starting pestering me, B) I’m just a tad bit overwhelmed about everything that's gone down in the last 48 hours, and C) Because how the hell else am I supposed to act? We're practically...well, I think we are, a couple right now, and I mean what does that mean exactly anyways? Honestly, I hate placing titles on relationships. It's always so....stressful and…well, stressful.

Yeah, anyways, I'm gonna just shut up about it for now and shy away from the whole being a whiny bitch of a girlfriend in such beginning stages of the relationship. I don’t want to scare him off or anything, after all. "Justin," I groan, finally relenting. "Just--forget I said anything. Nevermind, okay? Change of subject--how's your face feeling?" I ask, reaching out to gently smooth my thumb over the now light pink mark across his cheekbone.

Justin sighs. "It's fine. I'm fine. Don’t worry bout it," he dismisses, all at once.

"I'm sorry he did that to you," I comment, softly.

"It's...I don't care. I mean, I deserved it and probably much more," Justin admits to me. "I'm just pissed that he said all that fucked up shit about you. He really didn't have the right to go off and..."

Leaning up, I quickly pull him down by his t-shirt collar, placing a soft kiss to his lips and interrupting his complaints. I'm sorry that I even went and brought the whole Chris thing up already; because honestly, right now, the only thing I want to do is forget that things ever went down like that between us last night. I don't want to think about all the hurtful things he said and how bad they stung. I don't want to think about where Elise is and how I'm going to have to eventually talk to her about all of this, admit to her that the whole deal thing is off because I'm in love with Justin now. I don't want to think or worry about anything; I just want to spend the day with him and be happy together.

"Let's not talk about all that today, okay?" I whisper, at last.

Justin nods, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His hand reaches out to smooth my dark hair away from my face, as he tucks a few strands behind my ear and says, “Will you please call in sick at work? I really want to spend the entire day with you, because you're honestly the only person in the whole entire world that I want to spend my time with…”

He takes a deep breath as he finishes off in a rushed manner. I giggle, quite impressed with his sharp memory, because he did in fact say almost exactly what I had told him I wanted to hear him say in order to get me to call in sick at work.. "Yes, Justin, I'll call in sick," I give in to him at last. "That is, if you're planning on telling me what exactly it is that we're going to be doing in advance?" I add, pointedly.

He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at me, entirely too suggestively to be an innocent gesture on his part, mind you. "Well, I was thinkin' maybe we could stay here and go to bed and all....and then, you know, we could have sex around, oh I dunno, say noon?” he wonders, casually. “Then I’m thinkin’ we could head into the kitchen and get a little food into our stomachs, before finally, we end up having sex once again, but this time on like, the counter or maybe even the kitchen fl...."

I snort, rolling my eyes at him, totally unimpressed with his typical male answer. "Well, in that case, I guess I'll just be going to work then."

"No!" Justin immediately demands, apologetically. "You can't go."

"Watch me."

"Okay, I didn't really mean all that shit about having sex all day long, Chloe. What we're really going to do-- is, well---whatever you want to do, baby. In fact, I am going to devote my entire day to you and making you happy…”

"You really mean that?" I ask him, excited by this new prospect of having Mr. Justin Timberlake devoting his entire day to make little ole' me happy.

"Yes,” he says.

"So anything I want to do, you're going to willingly cooperate?"

He nods this time.

"And you're going to pay for everything, right?"

Justin quickly coughs at my comment. "Now, I didn't say all that," he teases me. "You're getting a little too creative over there, mama."

"Fine, be a cheap ass Justin, but you still promise we can do anything I want, right?" I ask him once more.

"You're starting to scare me with this whole repeating that one question over and over again," Justin admits, slowly.

I laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. "Whatever, J. I'm just makin' sure we're on the same page so I don't have to hear any whining later on."

I watch as he slumps his shoulders, waving his hand in the air in surrender. "Aight, aight, I won't complain...whatever you wanna do…just as long as I get to be with you."

"Aww," I coo, grabbing his face and placing a quick kiss to his nose. "I’m gonna go get ready, okay?" I say. "And I'm sooo excited," I add, happily.

Justin smiles, nodding his head at me. "Me too," he says.

Ha--he just doesn't realize how girly and cheesy I'm gonna make this day for him, now does he? Oh well, he'll survive, right?

I excitedly jump off the couch and start trotting towards the bathroom, struttin' my ass side-to-side just cause I know he's watching me. Suddenly turning around to tell him one last thing, I say, "And just because we're not going to stay here and have sex all day doesn't mean that we won't be makin' up for that later tonight," I tell him, seductively winking my eye at him. "I just want it to be special though, you know?" I suddenly add, admitting just how dorky I really am in so many words. I'm sure my face is really red with complete embarrassment right about now as I pace myself to finish off that previous thought of mine. (And yes, you can just shut up now, because I do realize how disgustingly cheesy I'm being at the moment. I know--I said, I know--I'm acting as if I'm straight up sprung-off his-ass, and it's fairly sad. But fuck, this is our first day that we're officially together, okay? This is the first day that I can actually say that I have a real, true, and genuine relationship with someone who really loves me. I mean, he loves me! Me! So, whatever, I don't care how stupid and girly I'm being, because....ahem...because just, yes.)

Finally, I meekly continue, "I just want you to...to make love to me, and..and tell me you love me while you're doing it, kay?" I quickly spit out, turning around and running away from him before I can see his reaction.

Let's just hope that he takes the hint and this day is worth all the hours of class and work I'm going to be missing....

Somehow, I already know I don't have to worry about that though because I just know for a fact that it will be. After all, I've finally made a decision in all of this, and there's just something in his eyes that makes me believe that I'm choosing the right way here. I love Justin, and even though I'm worried about my friendships with a few others because of us being together and what not, I'm really not going to let it worry me any longer. I guess I just don't care enough anymore; it just doesn't really matter to me as much as it did--oh, I don't know--say 24 hours ago?

I mean, I know that might sound sort of drastic to you and all, but coming home and experiencing that whole ordeal with Chris, and just seeing Justin again and suddenly realizing how much I missed him in only that one night of being apart--well, I've just come to accept that whatever happens from now on is just going to have to happen the way that it ends up happening. There's no turning back for me at this point, and for once, I'm just going to do what I want--and not let what I think I should do to please other people dictate my decisions instead. And that's not because I'm trying to be selfish or conniving either, it's just that I can't help or deny the way that I feel anymore. It's too exhausting for me to handle going on living like that. I feel like these last few months have changed so much in my life, and during the entire time that all this chaos has been building up, I've been continuously holding my breath, just waiting for the very moment when I'd finally feel at peace with everything; when everything in my life would finally seem to just be falling into place again. And I couldn't be happier that, at last, everything that I'd wished for is exactly what seems to be happening in my world.

Really, the best part about it is that I'm finally with Justin now--and I mean, really, really with him. I truly do believe in my heart that we have something real together. I know that might be stupid and naive of me, but it's just the way that I feel. And I can't help the way that I feel. Even when I know that we're crazy and our personalities tend to constantly clash, I still hold to the fact that I also know that he loves me and that I love him despite all of this. Somehow or another, we seem to get each other, and we each bring out the best in one another. At least that's what I like to believe. And because of this, I also believe that for the first time in a really, really long time-- that I can truly breathe again. And by that, I mean exactly what it sounds like--that I can just breathe again; that I can breathe without worrying, making myself sick with stress about how I'm going to end up disappointing other people; that I can breathe without trying to hide secrets behind my best friend's back; and that I can breathe without trying to deny that I care more about Justin than I really ever wanted to admit up until last night.

So yeah, maybe things aren't exactly perfect in my life right now--but ironically, somehow, they sort of are, too. I mean, now that we're finally together, I just know that everything is eventually going to be okay, I guess.

I mean--it just has to be, right?

{Chloe}

The sound of the bedroom door cracking open disturbs my concentration as I hastily remove my vision from the television screen to look up at the sudden disturbance. I find my disturbance. It's Justin. Yeah, he's finally walking inside the room; finally meaning that it's a quarter past 1:00 a.m., and I've been waiting practically since 8 p.m. for him to get here. He has on a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt, a grin plastered to his face. I roll my eyes at the sight of him and proceed to watch him stumble over towards the bed. Sloppily dropping his body next to mine, he gives me some sort of silly grin as if he's just completely and utterly happy in this very moment of time. Asshole. A second later, and his pleasant voice is calling out to me, "Hey babe."

I look into his slightly glazed over eyes. "Hey," I reply, coolly. "Have you been drinking?" I add, not really curious to find out because the answer to my question is already quite apparent to me at this point anyways.

"Just--well, yeah--a little," Justin answers, slowly. His hand reaches out to touch my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Changing the subject, he mumbles, "I missed you."

Brushing off his touch, I quickly reach up and pull his hand down and away from me. "Oh, okay," I answer him, nonchalantly. With my own change of subject, I continue on to ask him, "So, um, did you forget about our thingy tonight?"

He bites his lip, and it looks as if he has no idea of what I'm talking about. God. Of course he doesn't. Of course. A few seconds pass until, suddenly, recognition dawns upon his face. He winces at me, his blue eyes now apologetic rather than confused. "Oh....shit... yeah....right....that..." he mumbles out in no orderly fashion as he trails off with nothing more to say.

That, he says. Yeah, you forgot that Justin. That meaning he was supposed to come pick me up after work, and we were supposed to go out to dinner together and go on a date and spend the night being with each other. Well, anyways, that is ruined by now obviously. I sigh, still disappointed, but knowing that an apology is coming on and I'm going to have to get over it, whether I really want to or not. "Yeah, that..." I echo, dejectedly.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he immediately says, as expected. "I mean, why didn't you call my cell?" he begins. "I..."

"I did," I calmly interject him. "You probably have missed calls."

"Oh," he frowns. "I must have not heard it then. Me and T played basketball, and then we went back to his place and had a few drinks, and I guess I just lost track of time. I'm sorry."

I give a slight smile at his explanation. I'm trying not to be depressed about this. I suppose it's not really that big of deal. It's just that--well, I guess I kind of expected things to be a little different between us when we first got together. I don't know though, I've never really been in all that serious of a relationship anyhow. In fact, all the relationships that I've ever had in the past have been completely dysfunctional and disastrous, so what do I really know about being in love anyways? Nothing. And I thought that everything was going to just magically get better now that Justin and I are together and 'in love,' but I'm slowly starting to realize that us getting together, was in many aspects, just the beginning of so much--well, let's just say, so much more.

I mean, I guess what I'm really getting at here is that relationships are just hard. It's only been a week, and already I find myself feeling like the whiny, overemotional girlfriend. It's not that Justin hasn't been great this past week or anything, but it sort of just feels like he's not being completely real with me. And it feels like in every free second that either of us gets at the same time, we're spending it making out or having sex. Not that I'm complaining about having lots of sex because I love having sex with him. But once again, it's just that I expected things to be a little different than this. And I understand that I could very well be tripping, acting like a silly love-sick girl right now, which is why I'm not going to make a bigger deal out of all of this than I already have so far. In fact, I'm just--

"Chlo?" Justin asks, cautiously reaching out to hold my hand. "What are you thinkin' about right now?" he pries, interrupting my rapid thoughts.

I squeeze his hand, offering him another small smile. "Nothin'. Sorry, I just--" I pause, resisting the temptation to blabber on about my worries. Instead, I say, "It's okay. I understand about tonight, so don't worry about it."

He sighs in relief and leans over to kiss my forehead. "Thank you. I really am sorry though, and I promise I'm gonna make it up to you, baby."

Just like you promised you'd make it up to me when we stayed in that day I took off work, and we didn't do any of the things I had wanted to do with you? Just because we stayed in bed all day? Yeah, you were supposed to make that up to me with tonight, Justin. No. I'm not thinking like that. No, no, no...

"Mmkay," I say, at last. "Sounds good."

Justin smiles at me. Seconds later, his face descends towards my own as he twists his body to the side and starts kissing me. The minute his soft lips meet my own, I immediately forget about all of my previous issues, almost as if they never even existed in the first place. It's funny how he can do that. His hand comes out to cup my jaw as he slowly continues to work his mouth with mine. Our tongues are meshing together in a wonderful and pleasurable way, and somehow, Justin pulls me over until I'm on top of his body, straddling his slim waist.

Our lips finally part for a moment as we attempt to catch our breath. Both of our breathing is ragged, the slight exertion of our making out taking its beginning toll on us. Justin's hands are idly roaming up and down the expanse of my back while he stares into my eyes. Eventually, he reaches up to place another soft kiss to my currently swollen lips. "I love you," he whispers, slowly pulling away from the kiss.

I smile softly down at him, gently grinding my lower body into his crotch. It's nice to hear the words roll off his tongue so easily. It really is. My hand smoothes over his buzzed head, as I lower my mouth to his neck. I kiss his warm skin, lightly licking it with my tongue. My cool breath hits his slightly dampened neck and he shivers, as I bring my mouth to his ear and whisper back, "I love you, too."



****



{Justin}

Lowering the strap of my black wife beater she's got on, I place a few soft, chaste kisses to her now bared shoulder blade. She smells so sweet and good to me, just like she always does. Her skin is nice and soft and perfect to the touch. My right hand runs up and down her curves, sliding against one of her breasts and down to the side of her stomach, finally resting on her slightly jutted out hip bone. I'm leaning against my other hand as we lay side-by-side on the bed, exploring each other's mouths with fervor.

I'm no longer much buzzed from my few drinks tonight. I had to sober up a little bit when I got home and she was pissed, so pretty much now the only thing that I'm feeling is horniness. Yeah, I know, you think I'm a horny asshole, but what can I say? Chloe is like my drug. I love that girl, and it's not my fault if I can't resist her. "Mmm," I murmur, slipping my fingers under the bottom of the black beater she's got on. I feel the muscles in her stomach, as my hand slowly inches its way up her silky skin, aiming towards her supple breasts.

Just as I'm about to palm one delicious mound, Chloe wriggles her body, sending my hand flying down and outta her shirt at once. "Wha...?" I mumble, confusedly.

"J, do you think we have sex too much?" she asks me, suddenly.

I blink my eyes at her. One phrase comes to mind at the moment: 'Hell no.'

"I mean, I just--well, I've never had this much sex before, ya know?" she continues, quickly. "And I know you're used to--um--well, having sex a lot though, and um, maybe I'm just unexper--"

Leaning down, I place a few quick kisses onto her lips, interrupting her jumbled words. "Why are you so worried about this right now?" I ask her, carefully. "Let's just..." I bring my hand back down to the bottom of her shirt, sliding it right back up the journey it had been taking only a few moments ago. "Let's just let things happen," I smoothly coax her, at last.

She inhales deeply, as my hand covers one of her breasts. I lick my lips, gently massaging her nipple, as I once again lower my mouth onto her own. Chloe's tongue obediently darts out, slithering inside my mouth with ease. Her smooth leg comes over and wraps around my hip from the side, as she cradles my head in her hand and traps me against her. I finally let my fingers fall away from her breast, as I trail them down her body again. They slide all the way down, from her chest, down and over her ass, until eventually, I start rubbing at her thigh that is now securely holding me in place right where I love to be. I grind my crotch into her, hoping that she'll feel my erection and at least undo my belt buckle or something.

At last, I pull away from our kiss and take a moment to catch my breath. Shortly after, I'm softly saying her name, "Chlo," as I lower my mouth onto her neck and begin to teasingly lick at it. She giggles, squirming a little from the contact. I trail down in my assault of kisses, smirking against her collarbone before I go back up and start to gently suck on her skin once more.

I'm just a tad bit disappointed when she stops me again, pushing my head away and lowering her leg from around my waist. I sigh. "What's wrong?" I ask her.

She bites her lip and stares up at the ceiling. "I dunno. It's just that..."

"What baby?" I demand, a little frustrated. I'm horny, and it hurts, and she's being weird and shit all of a sudden. She hasn't had problems with having sex with me up until now. I mean, we've done it plenty of times this week; trust me, I've kept count. So I really don't understand what's bothering her right now. "Chloe?"

She looks away, so I quickly reach out and grab her face, gently turning it back towards me. I stare down at her with inquisitiveness, searching her eyes for some sort of answer. "Are you okay?" I continue. "You act as if we've haven't done this before, sweetheart."

Chloe shakes her head. "I'm fine," she says to me, at last. "Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the mood..."

I give her a sly grin, raising an eyebrow at her. "You didn't."

With that, we go back right to where we left off, my lips and hands exploring all of her with ardor. I hover over her, pressing my hardness into her thigh. She moans into my mouth and pulls back long enough to examine my face. My eyes are full of lust as I lean my weight against both of my palms which are resting on either side of her. She reaches down and her fingers begin to play with my belt buckle, while she continues to stare at me the entire time. I smirk at her and reach out to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, just as she gets the buckle undone. I wish she'd hurry up and touch me...

She unzips my pants and her hands slide my jeans down my sides, as I helpfully wiggle my legs around to get them all the way down. She caresses my cheek, and gently lifts her knee against me, directing me to remove myself from above her. "Lay down, baby," she whispers out, lowly.

I obediently roll over and remove my t-shirt on the way, lying down onto my back with a content sigh. Chloe straddles me and begins kissing my shoulders, my collarbone and my chest. She licks my right nipple with her tongue before pulling away and softly blowing where her mouth just was. She pays the same attention to the other one, and my skin literally tingles from all the sensations she's causing in me, as she continues her way down my torso, my belly, kissing me anywhere and everywhere...

Just as she's about to reach the waistband of my boxers, she quickly pulls up, smiling down at me teasingly. I immediately groan, lifting my hips up at her in vein. She leans over and grabs inside my nightstand drawer, pulling out a package of condoms and wiggling her eyebrows at me. She tears one off and throws the rest to the side. "Hang on, buster," she orders me, lightly.

I roll my hips up again, holding onto her sides as she works on opening up the package. I just barely notice that she's still got her little shorts on, as well as my beater. This has got to change, and so I lift her up from her thighs, hurriedly lowering her bottoms down her tanned legs. I lick my lips, watching her smooth, bare, and now naked bottom half with desire. Finally, she gets the condom out and pulls down my boxers, exposing my hard and throbbing erection. I close my eyes as she easily slides the condom down onto my penis, breathing in deeply at her touching me. "J..."

"Yeah?" I breathe out, opening my eyes when she says my name. I watch as she crawls up and positions herself to ride me.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

I grab her hips, nodding my head. "Uhuhhh...uhmm," I groan as I start to feel myself slowly sliding inside of her. All of a sudden she stops, a shaky breath heaving out of her chest and then a little whimper. My hands lift higher, as I grip the sides of the beater. Surely stretching out the material, I ask her, "You okay?"

Chloe shakes her head, immediately pulling me out of her and recoiling a little. "We can't...it...it hurts..." she trails off, at once.

I bite my lip hard, willing myself not to go crazy. My poor baby. I'm dying to be inside of her, but I guess I didn't get her ready enough if she's hurting. Gently pushing her down and off of me, I decide to take control of the situation. When I'm on top of her again, I kiss her forehead and just hug her for a second. "Relax baby," I tell her. She nods her head against me as I leisurely lower my mouth down her stomach. "I'll make you feel all better," I promise her against her skin. "Mmkay?"

I look up to see her tilt her head to the side, resting against the pillow as I do my thing. When I finally get down to her hot center, I gently plunge my fingers inside her, noticing right away that's she's not as wet as she should be. I pull my fingers out and lick them clean, before I reach up to start rubbing at her clit. Chloe moans, as I quickly lower my mouth onto her, sucking on her swollen nub as good as I possibly can. I just want to make her feel good, as I continue to lick and suck her until I think she's about ready to let go.

Crawling up, I reposition my stuff and the condom, wrapping Chloe's legs around my hips. She hugs my shoulders and I carefully, slowly start to enter her. Her fingers slightly dig into my skin, her extremely tight walls sucking me in. I lean down and kiss her on the mouth, as our bodies gradually start to mesh into one, moving with each other in sync. My thrusts start off gentle and by the end, I'm wildly moving in and out of her.

Chloe's face is flushed as she grabs onto my neck, moving her hips in time with my thrusts. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I push into her as deeply as possible and explode inside of her. A few moments pass, and I just lay against her, breathing deeply. When I finally pull out of her and roll onto my side, Chloe immediately turns over, wrapping her arm around my waist and laying her head on my shoulder. I smile and kiss the top of her head, letting out a long sigh afterwards.



****



{Chloe}

A loud burst of noise startles me in the midst of pouring my drink as I curiously look up and wait for everyone to make it into the kitchen. It's weird hearing voices other than Justin and my own inside the house because for about an entire week, it's only been he and I. Everytime Chris comes home and I catch him, it's brief and to the point. He'll storm inside his room and grab some new fresh clothes, maybe a Coke out of the fridge, and all the while he'll walk around like we don't even exist. And then he leaves, slamming the front door on his way out, and this horrible feeling that I'm running my best friend out of his own house always washes over me at once.

Anyways, I guess you could say that tonight we're having guests over. Justin insisted that we double date with Trace and his new girl, and even though I really didn't want to, I said okay for his sake. As far as I know, we're making dinner over at our place, and then we're supposed to head out to some pool hall/bar and get some drinks. I don't know how much fun all of this will be, but I guess I could use getting out and doing something exciting for a change.

"Shut up, Trace!" I hear a girl squeal, just as three bodies round the corner and enter into the kitchen.

Immediately, my eyes land on the unfamiliar blonde in the room. Right away, I notice that she's a few inches taller than Trace, and her black heels probably account for that fact. She's an extremely attractive girl, almost as if she's a walking and talking Britney Spears, only a little more pretty. Her blonde hair is long and tucked behind her ears, and she's got to be at most, 110 pounds with boobs that are way too big to be real.

And--eww--I hate her.

Oh my God, I'm being so judgmental. I need to stop. Just cause the girl is pretty doesn't mean I should dislike her or anything. I mean, Elise was pretty and I thought she was just a stupid, shallow airhead until I got to know her. And look how wrong I was about her. So yeah, I need to stop...

Suddenly, I feel Justin's arm wrap around me from the side, as Trace and the blonde still remain standing a few feet away from us. "Christianne, this is my girlfriend Chloe. Chloe, that's Christianne," he points his finger at her, making the introductions right off the bat.

I give her a small, sweet smile, (as sweet as I can manage), and nod my head at her since she's too far away to shake hands with. "Nice to meet you," I say.

She grins. "Likewise."

Trace pulls her to his side, wrapping his arm around her waist and smirking at me. "Isn't she amazing, Chloe?" he comments, happily.

Christianne immediately swats at his arm, giggling shyly at his words of praise.

Oh God, I'm not gonna vomit--I'm really not.

Glancing at Justin out of the corner of my eye, I offer him another small smile and nod my head in agreement, "Oh yeah..."



****



Do you remember the-date-from-hell that I had with Justin? (Well, the few dates-from-hell we had together?) Yeah. I know you do. So try imagining this if you will: imagine going on a date like that, just as horrible, but only ten times worse. And that should about sum up to you exactly what I'm experiencing right now; a.k.a the double-date-from-hell.

Honestly, I told you I wasn't going to be judgmental, right? Right.

But trust me when I tell you, I'm not being judgmental when I say that Christianne is an annoying, blonde twit. First of all, she's spent the entire evening flirting with both Justin and Trace, talking about all the fortune her new breasts implants have created in her career, and just how much she loves modeling. Second of all, she keeps flirting with Justin. Oh and third of all, did I mention that the freaking tramp has been flirting with Justin?

And the worst part is that he's sort of flirting back with her. Of course if I said that to him, he'd get all defensive and claim the high road, as if I was just imagining things or something. Whatever, though. I mean, I understand that her little, skimpy black top leaves little to the imagination, and I understand that her tits are huge and practically sticking right out at him, but does he really need to be looking at them as much as I think he is?

Yeah, probably not.

"Did I do that right?" Trace asks, snapping my attention away from listening to Christianne's obnoxious giggling at some joke Justin just made over by the stove.

I look down at his paper and wearily start to study his work. Trace insisted that I help him on his math homework before we go out and start the real fun tonight, so lucky me; I get to tutor him while Justin and Christianne flirt it up and prepare our dinner. Disgusting, I swear.

"Yeah, you got the right answer," I mutter, looking over my shoulder and rolling my eyes when "the bitch" (my new name for her) teasingly smacks Justin's arm, laughing loudly. I wonder what the fuck they're talking about that's so damn funny to her? And why the fuck is Trace off in his own little rainbows, sunshine, and trotting trolls’ world, not even seemingly realizing that the two of them are acting rather friendly towards each other?

I mean, I'm not a jealous person and I've never been bugged by Justin and other girls before, but right now, this is really starting to get under my freakin' skin.

"Damn, babe!" Justin suddenly yells.

I look up and find him staring at me, snapping his finger in annoyance. "We forgot the bread."

"We did?" I ask.

"Yeah," he answers, glancing over at Christianne. "But that's okay, just stir the noodles for me in between your studying, and I'll go run up to the corner store and grab some."

"Okay," I say, reluctantly. Now I have to cook, too? Great. Just great.

"Oh, I could go up to the store with you if you want," Christianne pipes in, at once. Smirking in the direction of the table, she adds, "I don't wanna interrupt my baby while he's learning."

Stupid bitch.

"Cool," Justin says, throwing a paper towel into the trash. "We'll just be on our way then..."

"Kay," she giggles. She waves as they walk pass us, smiling broadly. "See you two in a bit."

Stupid tramp.

I wanna rip her fucking hair out.



****



Dinner sucks.

The conversation sucks.

Everything about this entire double date so far simply sucks.

And so that's why I decide in this very moment that I'm no longer going to subject myself to such suffering. I've had enough of Christianne and her blatantly flirty self. The girl could practically write a sign that said, 'Please Sex-Me-Up' and it'd be less obvious than the way she acts around men. I think the high point of the night so far though was when I walked by the living room and heard her asking Justin if he wanted to feel her breasts. Apparently, her implants feel just like the real thing, and she wanted him to know this little tid-bit. If it hadn't been for the fact that Justin immediately stuck his hands in his pockets and sort of awkwardly muttered 'no thanks' to her proposal, I probably would have kicked the bitch out along time ago.

Anyways, like I said, I'm no longer going to subject myself to such suffering. Clearing my throat, I drop my fork and look up from my half eaten plate of food. "Um, I think I'm gonna skip out on the bar thingy and just go head up to bed..." I quickly say to everybody.

Trace drops his fork too and gives me a disappointed face. "Chlo, you don't wanna hit up the Lounge with us?" he asks, dramatically. "Come on, it'll be fun."

I shake my head and feel Justin nudge my leg under the table. He's got a confused and slightly annoyed pout going on as he probably wonders why I'm canceling out on the second part of our date all of the sudden. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna just go to bed," I repeat myself. "I just don't feel really good all of a sudden," I lie. "But y'all have fun. And it was nice meeting you, Christianne," I add, throwing an indifferent smile in her direction.

With that said, I hastily stand up from the table and head for my bedroom, ignoring Justin's voice calling out for me to 'hold up.'



****



{Justin}

Storming into Chloe's room, I shut the door behind me as I have just followed her into her bedroom where she's apparently having a fit. "What are you doing?" I quickly demand, crossing my arms over my chest and staring her down as she sifts through her closet.

Chloe turns around for a second, shrugging her shoulders at me. "I'm changing my clothes and going to bed," she mutters at me.

"Why aren't you going out with us tonight?" I say, slightly annoyed. I mean, she just dissed my friends and ditched us at the table for no apparent reason. She was fine before, and I don't buy this shit about her not feeling good all of a sudden. "You look fine to me," I add, defiantly.

"Whatever, Justin. I do feel fine," she finally snaps. "I just don't want to go with your stupid friends to some stupid bar and get drunk, okay?" she adds, crossly.

I roll my eyes as she pulls her top off, quickly replacing it with a white t-shirt. "Why are you being such a bitch?" I growl at her, losing my temper. "They're waiting for us, and you're acting like a little spoiled brat right now." She doesn't say anything or even acknowledge my words so I continue on. "You know what your problem is? You always pull this shit. You're so damn uptight. You can never just have fun. And I mean real fun, not the stupid shit you think is having fun because sitting around and reading books and playing on your dumb laptop aren't fun, Chloe," I say, bitterly.

Chloe gives me a dirty look, pulling back her comforter and crawling into bed as she snidely replies, "Well, I'm sorry I'm not Mr. Popular like you Justin. I guess some of us just aren't cool like that. So have fun with Christianne. Bye."

I chuckle bitterly, shaking my head at her words. "Jesus Christ, is that what this is about?" I say, at once. "You're fucking jealous of her?! She's dating my best friend for God's sake!"

Chloe scoffs at me, adjusting her pillow. "Why would I be jealous of that bitch?"

"I don't know, maybe cause she's a model and she has bigger tits than you," I mutter, sarcastically. The moment the words fall from my mouth, I immediately regret saying them. I was just pissed and I didn't really mean that anyways, and now Chloe looks like she's ready to kill me or something.

"Fuck you, Justin!" she yells at me. "Yeah, I'm just so jealous of her since her fake boobs are bigger than my real ones," she continues, sardonically. "Just get the fuck outta my room and have fun with your little friends, okay?"

I groan, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand. I'm not in the mood for her PMS, and I'm not in the mood to fight with her either. My friends are downstairs waiting for me, and if she wants to overreact and act like a little bitch than I'll just let her. "Whatever," I say, at last. "I'm not gonna deal with your shit right now, and I will have fun....so see ya."

With that said, I quickly turn around and make sure to slam the door on my way out.

[let it burn]

{Justin}

"Did you want anything else, Justin?"

I shake my head, glancing over Shelly's shoulder and trying to get a better look at Chloe as she waits on a couple at some table only a few feet away from my own. "No thanks," I sigh, at last. "Does she seem to be changing her mind yet?" I add, hopefully.

Shelly tilts her head to the side, giving me a look that clearly shows her pity for my pathetic ass. "I don't think so," she starts out, apathetically. "Like I said before, I tried telling her that you were in her section, but she refused to come over here and serve you. So, uh—yeah, I don't think so," she repeats in conclusion.

"Great," I mutter under my breath, disappointed at her words. "Just great."

"So you didn't want anything else, right?" she awkwardly asks me, ignoring my statement and interrupting my frustrated thoughts all together.

"Actually, if you could just bring me another cup of coffee, that'd be great," I finally answer her, reluctantly. After all, I've been sitting here nearly two hours now and with no luck whatsoever; Chloe absolutely won't talk to me, and she's literally avoiding me like the damn plague or something. And to make matters even worse, she still has at least another four hours more left to her shift—at least, if not more.

So, in case you haven't guessed it yet, I'm at the coffee house, waiting for her shift to end and praying that she'll talk to me when it finally does end. You see, when I came home last night, her door was locked, so naturally, there was no point in me even trying to wake her up and redeem myself for the stupid way I had acted. Then, this morning she simply gave me this dirty look as I woke up, only to find that she was on her way out the door for work. Yeah, as you can tell, my luck isn't really going all that great right now; I haven't even gotten one chance to talk to her, and she's admittedly pissed off about our little fight from last night.

Fuck.

I'm practically like, on stalker status right now. It's quite embarrassing, the way her co-workers keep looking over at me, wondering what the hell is wrong with me, I presume. I even tried grabbing Chloe's hand once as she hurried by my table to help out another customer, but she quickly brushed me off, continuing on her way as if it never even happened.

I'm hoping that she gets a break soon though, because I'm starting to go a little crazy here. Last night wasn't exactly as fun as I had originally thought it was going to be. The entire time that I was out with Christianne and Trace, I kept worrying about what Chloe was doing and how bad I had fucked up with her earlier. I tried calling her cell phone from the bar, but she didn't answer. So anyways, I left early, and I was planning on coming home and apologizing to her. But by the time that I got home, as I told you before, her door was already locked and she was probably sleeping.

Shelly suddenly appears in front of me again, placing the mug of coffee down onto the table and giving me a slight smile. She pats my shoulder, as she turns and starts to walk away, saying, "Cheer up cutie, her lunch break is in an hour."

Thank you, Shelly. Did I mention that I really like that girl? I don't know her all that great; well okay, I don't know her at all, but at least she's giving me some sort of information here, yes?

I smile a little, my spirits picking up just a bit. Taking a sip of my coffee, I decide that maybe I should just try to keep myself busy until her break comes. It will be better than sitting here, staring at my watch and waiting for the seconds to tick by me, right? Right. And maybe I'll even try doing something nice for her while I wait...

Yeah—something nice, that's a good start for pleading forgiveness from her. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do for her, but I know I can figure it out. I'll just write her something; say sorry to her, or something, you know?

Leaning down, I pull out a notebook from my book bag that's lying under the table, determined to come up with something special for her. I drop the black book in front of me, turning the pages until I come across a blank sheet of a paper. I stare at the white, striped sheet for a bit, until finally, I lean down once more, pulling out a black pen to write with as well.

My hand reaches up to pull my baseball cap off, and I toss it towards the middle of the table. I stare down at the paper with deep concentration. My mind is racing, as I attempt to think of something clever here. I was always told in school that even when you don't know exactly what you wanna write, you should always just jot down whatever comes to mind at the moment, and more than likely, you'll find your way.

With this thought in mind, I swiftly bring the pen down and start writing away.



****



"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

My head quickly snaps up at the familiar voice. Right away, I'm met with the sight of my two friends. Not-so-eloquently, they begin to sit their asses down at my once lonely and singly occupied table. Fuck, why in the hell are they here right now?

I distractedly look down again, as I feel something rapidly being slid from under me. I reach up to stop him, but I'm way too slow, and he already has got the notebook before I can even grab it back. Narrowing my eyes at Darnell, I hastily snap, "Give it back, fucker."

Darnell twists his mouth to the side, glancing over the paper with mock interest. "Man," he starts, jokingly. "Tell me you didn't write all this pussy crap yourself?" he continues, utter amusement lacing his voice. Trace holds his hand out in curiosity, as Darnell quickly passes the notebook over to him.

Turning his gaze onto me with raised eyebrows, he sarcastically mutters, "Oh, Chloe, I love you so much, baby." He blinks his eyes and then adds, "I'm Justin fucking Timberlake, and I'm so sprung off your luscious ass--blah blah blah." He finishes with a snort and Trace snickers right along with him, throwing the notebook onto the table in the process.

"Great shit, my man," Trace laughs.

I roll my eyes at them, flipping them both off and biting in the inside of my cheek. "Shut the fuck up, you fucking dickwads." Smoothing my hand over my head, I ask, "Why are you dumbasses following me around anyways? I told y'all I was gonna be here for a while."

"We just came to see your pussy whipped ass in action," Darnell laughs, at once. "It's been a while, so we had to come check this for ourselves, bro."

"Yeah, well, Chloe is going to be on break in a few minutes," I say, annoyed. In brilliant conclusion, I finish, "So fuck off."

"Alright, alright," Trace immediately relents, holding his hands up. "No need to get your panties in a twist, we're leaving in just a—"

Wait-a-fucking-minute.

No, I am not seeing things, am I? I know I just didn't see that motherfucker walk into here and take a seat in her section—okay, wait—yes, yes I did.



****



{Chloe}

I notice him walking over to us and fight the urge to roll my eyes. Great. The asshole is going to come over and cause a scene at my job while I'm on break, talking to a friend. Ridiculous. I honestly can't believe him, and I want him to go home and leave me alone, because in no way, shape, or form have I forgiven him for all the shit he said to me last night.

Bastard.

He comes over and takes a seat at our table like he owns the damn place or something. I give Alex an apologetic look, glaring at him next. "Back off, Justin," I say, rudely. "I don't want to talk to you right now, so just leave before you embarrass us both."

He clearly ignores my statement, turning his head in the opposite direction of me. "Do I know you?" Justin asks Alex, looking at him with distaste.

Alex rolls his dark eyes, obviously unimpressed by Justin's rude demeanor. "I don't think so, but can I help you with something?" he bites back at him.

Scratching his chin, Justin nods his head with a condescending smirk. "Yeah, actually," he begins. "I think it'd really help if you got up and left, so I could talk to my girlfriend alone."

"If Chloe wanted to talk to you, she wouldn't have asked me to come and see her," Alex replies, derisively.

I widen my eyes. Justin looks ready to maul his ass right about now. His jaw locks in place as he stares at Alex with intense anger. "Like I said, I want to speak to my girlfriend in private, so back the fuck off and leave before I make you leave," he finally grits out an answer.

"Justin," I say, at once. It will be over my dead body that they're going to start fighting like two idiotic, egotistical males and then get my ass fired for it all. "Stop it, okay? I'm at work." I know that the only way he is going to back down though, is if he gets his way. Turning my head to Alex, I apologetically start, "I'm really sorry Alex, but I didn't know he was going to be here. Can I call you later?"

A deathly staring match seems to be going on between the two of them, and right when I think they're never going to stop, Alex backs down and glances in my direction once more. "Yeah—yeah, sure," he relents, at last. "Sure sweetheart." He quickly gets up to leave, placing his hand on my shoulder as he walks by me, "Talk to you later," he says, sweetly.

"Fucker," Justin mumbles, as he walks off.

I roll my eyes at him, glaring at him with much the same anger he had just been directing towards Alex. "I told you I didn't want to talk right now, Justin. What part of I don't want to talk to you don't you understand?" I ask him, bitterly.

Justin's eyes darken at me. "I think the better question is why the hell were you meeting up with your ex-boyfriend? And why the fuck would you want to talk to him instead of me?"

I fight to control my temper, as I lower my voice to an angry hiss, "First of all, he was never my fucking boyfriend," I spit out, rudely. "And second of all, maybe I don't want to talk to you, because you were a fucking jerk to me last night."

Justin's face softens, as he reaches his hand out to place on top of my own that is resting on the wooden table. I quickly pull my hand out from under his own, the same angry look never leaving my face. "Don't touch me."

"Look, I'm sorry," he frowns, hurt. "You're right; I was a jerk last night."

"Sorry isn't good enough," I say, coldly.

"Well, what do you want from me, Chloe?" Justin asks me, incredulously. "I'm sorry. I messed up. Jesus Christ, I'm not perfect."

I shrug my shoulders and then shake my head at him. I don't even know what I want from him, but his sorry doesn't make me feel any better, and it doesn't help lesson any of my doubts about us. "Justin, I can't do this anymore, okay?" I say, at last. "We're obviously not meant to be together, so you're off the hook."

Justin's face crinkles in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about, Chloe? We had a fight, that doesn't mean we're not meant to be together. I don't get why you're making such a huge deal out of all this. I said I'm sorry."

"You just don't get it, do you, Justin?" I bite, dramatically. "You and I are nothing alike, okay? We don't like the same things, and we don't agree on anything," I begin. "Half the time we're together, we're arguing with each other. I'm a nerd and you're a social butterfly," I continue, dully. "And I'm sorry I like to do lame things like reading, and hanging out with older people and playing bingo, but that's just who I am. I'm not like you and your friends, and I never will be. You should be with someone like Christianne...or Elise."

"I don't even—"

I hold up my hand to stop him for interrupting me. "Maybe not them precisely, but someone else who is flirty and pretty and bubbly just like they are, Justin. They're your type—and I'm not. So let's just end all of this while it's just begun, and stop pretending, because Chris was right all along. You and me--are just a--a joke."

"Why are you doing this?" Justin suddenly asks me, his eyes sad. "I said I was sorry, Chloe. I'll do anything to make it up to you...whatever you want...please...."

"Justin," I whisper. "It's not about that. I forgive you, but I just don't think you and me are gonna work out," I conclude, gently. Licking my lips, I look around the semi-busy room and let out a small sigh. "I gotta get back to work."

I hurriedly get up and turn to leave, but Justin quickly reaches out and grabs for my arm. "Don't just walk away from me, Chloe," he says, desperately.

"Why? You did the same thing to me last night."



****



{Justin}

Rejection sucks. And for some reason, I seem to get a lot of that when it comes to Chloe. I've been dejectedly laying here in my bed for hours now, listening to depressing music and just being depressed in general. I don't know what to do with myself; I'm a pathetic idiot.

I think this is about the thirtieth time I've listened to Usher's "Burn," but I could really care less, as I reach over for my stereo remote and turn the volume up a notch. If I wasn't such a lovesick loser, maybe I'd go out and try to mack it up on some girl or something right now, but I really don't want to.

I just want Chloe, but she doesn't seem to get that fact. Maybe it's my fault though. I don't know. I mean, I try to show her I care about her, and yet, just a few hours ago, she's telling me that we aren't going to work out and that I should be with other girls...

Whatever...

I twist over in the bed, shoving a pillow over my head, the words of the song penetrating my skull with force.

I'm twisted cuz one side of me is tellin' me that I need to move on
On the other side I wanna break down and cry (ooooh)
I'm twisted cuz one side of me is tellin' me that I need to move on
On the other side I wanna break down and cry (cry)

When I feel like I've sufficiently cut off my air supply, I roll over onto my back again, angrily tossing my pillow away from the bed. It lands on the floor, and I groan, rubbing my hands over my eyes in frustration.

I just don't know anymore, you guys. I'm sick of all this shit. I mean, sometimes, I feel like it's sucking all of the fucking life out of me to even be in this damn relationship. I've lost a best friend over it, for God's sake. And I constantly feel guilty about the bet I made with Trace back when I hated Chloe in the first place.

It all seemed to be so much easier back then, when we both hated each other...

And I guess maybe Chloe is right; maybe we just don't belong together...

I don't know though--I just don't know anymore.

It just seems like no matter how hard I try, Chloe Marin is always going to be a losing battle.

{Justin}

Pulling my reading glasses off for a moment, I rub at my blurry eyes. I rapidly blink them, avoiding a further gaze at the glossy pages of the magazine I'm skimming through right now.

Shit.

What am I thinking here? Really---just what am I doing here?

I'm wasting time, that's what I'm doing!

For God's sake, I'm blinking my eyes; and I'm blinking them when I know in the back of my mind, that clearly, I'm far from even close to making this into something that, even slightly, could resemble a somewhat decent, finished product. And who knows when she's going to get home and interrupt all of this, turning my plan into yet, just another disastrous attempt of me trying to impress Chloe with a kind gesture on my part. Yes, you're exactly right folks; I say this, as I'm referring to that dreadful day, back when I took a shot at shocking her, as I had stayed home and prepared her a surprise dinner of shrimp fettuccini. And in case you've forgotten about all this, I'll also go ahead and kindly remind you of the fact that my once sweet idea of a romantic dinner for her, quickly shot to hell that day, as it ultimately ended in disastrous ways instead of the preferred amorous ways I had originally been shooting for.

Furthermore, on the off chance that you do remember this day as clearly as I do, I guess it's safe to say that you also recall what happened to destroy the evening. (You know, the part where I was left only to find out that utter nuisances like Darnell, Trace, and shall I just call the rest of them all 'the whole gang,' were coming over to ruin everything? Oh and yeah, the part where I realized that even if it weren't for them crashing in on the dinner, other problems would have went down instead; still managing to end the night in the same ole' shitty, disastrous way that it did anyways?) For example, other things-- like me practically and unknowingly torturing Chloe, as she was forced to swallow down a dish that consisted of shrimp, which come to find out, the girl freakin' loathes...

Honestly, it's bringing me down to even think about it again.

Letting a somewhat drained (yet still determined) sigh escape passed my lips, I quickly push my glasses back on and flip to the next page in her magazine...

Yeah, I know--you don't have to spell it out for me--I'm not making much sense right now, and you're wondering exactly what the hell it is that I'm doing? And what I'm rambling on and on about, more importantly? Well, in a quick and hopefully sufficient enough summary for you, I'll go right on ahead and try my best to explain things to you even a little better...So yeah, here's the deal:

Basically, a few hours have passed since I left you all, suffering through my sad and tortured tale of that real, living, breathing, and pathetic ass moment I just had in my life. The moment that most likely, could have easily appeared on one of those lame-teenybopper-high-school-shows that they always play on the WB channel. And of course, said moment in my life also could have easily inspired itself into an episode on one of these said 'lame-ass-drama-TV shows'. And in such cases, it would have had to have just an equally, if not more so, lame episode summary to go right along with it...

You know, it'd probably go a little something like this: "Justin sits on his bed, sulking in the dark and just being an all around loser for a while. Temporarily in a state of pure insanity, he listens to sad Usher songs, troubled with darkness and melancholy. Why, you wonder? Maybe because he's madly in love with Chloe (a.k.a. the girl in the show that he's in a relationship with at the moment). And oh yeah, maybe simply because that relationship is no longer, as Ms. Chloe has just dumped his sorry, pathetic ass in this episode--with not even so much as a second thought on her part, mind you. Finally, you will watch, as Justin is left to ponder, what happens next?"

Okay okay-- a tad dramatic of a description on my part, but you get the point, right? I mean, you're still following me, yes? I sure hope so; and with faith that you are, at last, I'll go ahead and conclude this somewhat ridiculously jumbled summary of recent events in my life. So here it is, where finally, I bring you an explanation as to why I even started this trip down memory lane in the first place; to explain to you just why I'm sitting here at the table, blinking my eyes as I flip through one of Chloe's old magazines, of course.

You see--after overcoming that temporary breakdown of mine I just told you all about--well, I guess you could say that I just magically got over it all of the sudden, or something. I don't quite know how to explain it to you, but let's just say some source of inspiration struck down on me much like lightening would. So I quickly moved onto bigger and better things, excluding the act of me lying around in shambles all night, of course. (Translation: rather than laying on my fat ass and feeling sorry for myself just because I think I've finally lost Chloe for good, I'm working my ass off to make her this scrap book of happier times until she finally gets home from work.) I just pray that it gets done by the time that she gets back here, in complete hopes that by doing this for her, it will somehow manage to show her how wrong she is about us not belonging together. Because we don't belong together, and I need to change her mind about dumping me and ending this very good thing that we have going on with each other.

Ahem. Once again, I'm wasting time here, aren't I? Yeah, yeah....you're right again. I better get back to work and stop with all this reminiscing nonsense, huh?

Exactly. You're damn right I should...

'Cause damn it, I don't know how much longer I have till she gets back. And damn it, God forbid this doesn't work like I want it to; I just really might find that my life has turned into one of pathetic, mess of a drama series. A drama series at the point in which the characters lives' are all royally fucked up and completely unlivable, that is.



****



{Chloe}

I quietly walk inside the apartment, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. This is the moment I've been dreading ever since Justin left the coffeehouse. When I realized that I would eventually have to come home and face him after all of what was said between us; the moment where I'd probably have to talk it out with him again, even further making myself out to be some idiotic fool who's in love with someone who just doesn't seem to feel quite the same way.

Then again, I did most of the talking today, and I made the decision not to hear him out. I was the one to break up with him, so it's not like he's completely getting the upper hand here, right? At least I'm the one who called things off, and perhaps that is enough reason for me to have even just a glimpse of dignity about all of this.

God, I can't believe I actually broke up with him though. I'm so stupid; I love Justin. And what do I do? I break up with him.

I know--it doesn't make much sense to you, right? I'm sure you're thinking I'm stupid and crazy, wondering why on earth I could possibly think that we can't be together?

But honestly, I didn't know what else to do. Last night, after we had our fight, it was like I instantly woke up or something. I snapped out of my 'I'm so happy and in love with him" bubble at once, probably even before I had time to process the slamming of the front door, confirming that he really had just left me alone that night, after saying what he said to me. Those words he said--and how easily he said such hurtful things to me--well, like I said, it quickly burst my little love bubble, promptly replacing it with sadness and doubts instead. It brought me to this harsh landing of a realization that felt something like, 'Shit, maybe I'm a little more serious about this whole relationship than he is.'

I mean, I thought about it rationally, I really did. I was up almost all night, just thinking and thinking about it all. Something I've been doing a lot when it comes to our relationship, what it all means, and what I should do about it. And finally, I realized that, sure, Justin and I have shared some moments in time where he has said these things that completely and utterly floored me. These things that made me want to fall to the floor at his knees, in a pile of complete putty. But then I thought about it some more, and I started to wonder how important that really was in the grand scheme of things, anyways? I mean, Justin tells me he's in love with me a few times; Justin tells me he thinks I'm perfect; Justin tells me I make him want to be a better person; and Justin tells me I have small boobs, that I'm a boring, dull human being who doesn't know how to have fun if it came and kicked me up the ass.

Okay--so he don't use those exact words, and he said it in a bit of a blunter, less offensive way. My point is though, is that doesn't even matter, because who cares what exact words were used; what matters is that he said them. And for so long, I've been letting his words dictate my feelings, my thoughts. He thinks I'm perfect; and I feel happy. In not so many ways, he insinuates that I'm not good enough for him, and I let it painfully burn away at my heart. And honestly, for as long as I've known Justin, on some level, the things he's said to me have always had this uncanny way of affecting me in a huge way. Even when I hated him and shouldn't have given a rat's ass about what he had to say to me; somehow I always managed to let him get under my skin, whether is was by pissing me off or not.

So why do I this to myself? More importantly, why have I been doing this to myself for so long? And over just the things that he simply chooses to say to me? Because let's face it; no matter how good or bad something someone says can make you feel, in the end, it's just like they all say: "Talk is cheap."

It's so cheap...

Which makes me think, honestly, what has Justin really done to prove that he truly loves and cares about me?

Because I see myself ditching work to be with him. I see myself skipping class now and again, just so I can spend as much time with him as I can. I see myself doing his laundry, cleaning up after him, cooking him dinner just to make sure that he's taken care of. I see myself constantly having sex with him, even when for just once, I would like to spend a night where all we do is talk to each other. A night where we go out and have a real date with each other for once. A date that isn't from hell--and a date that doesn't turn into a double date from hell, where he ends up flirting with some blonde cow right before my eyes, most likely not even realizing he was even doing it in the first place.

I see myself doing all these things because I love him, and then I wonder is this really what love is supposed to be like? So much effort on my part, and then me feeling like it's so one-sided? And the hardest part about this is, is that I don't even know the answers to any of these questions. It seems like that's always the case with me; I have all these questions that need answers and no true way of ever finding them out.

For example, experience really gets me nowhere here. And without experience, how much can you really know about something? I can't decipher from the few serious relationships that I've ever been in my life what love is. Because I can honesty say that I've never been in a situation where I was in love with someone else who ended up really loving me back. Until Justin, that is. Or so I thought for a while there...

But how am I really supposed to know? To know that it's real? I've been fooled before, and I don't' want it to happen again. And if I don't feel sure in my heart about us, that what we have is real, then does that mean it's really not?

I mean, I know that he's done nice things for me before in the past. I'm not saying that he hasn't, by any means. He's definitely done more than talking at times, and he has done things that show me he cares. But we're supposed to be in love here, and like I've started to wonder a lot of things, I'm also curious at to why I can't help but want more right now? Because if the honest truth is that we're in love like we think, then why do I feel this way? Like it's not enough--that even though we're finally together, our relationship still isn't enough to live up to what I had hoped for it to be. Just like the rest of us, I've always had that fantasy in my head; that fantasy of what ideally, it's supposed to be like when you're in love with someone who loves you in return. Up until last night, I fooled myself into believing that I truly had that ideal fantasy with him. I really thought that what we had was going to be enough for me...but I just can't help but wonder now, that what if maybe I was wrong?

So that's why I broke up with him, okay?

Because maybe I wanted things to be different, but maybe the cruel fact of the matter is, is that Justin and I are too different to be together. Maybe Chris was right all along; we're just fooling ourselves, wasting our times with each other until the moment comes where we undoubtedly destroy what could have at least turned out to be a good friendship.

And maybe Justin has fooled himself into believing we're in love, too. Maybe it's not even intentional on his part. Maybe Justin truly does believe that he's in love with me. And maybe on some level, he really does want a serious relationship with me like he says; because I'm just not the type of girl that he's used to being with, and for some reason, this inspires him a little, intrigues him a little--fools him into thinking his feelings for me are love, when they're really not.

More than anything else, I just wish that what we had going right now was enough for me still. But the truth is, is that it's not anymore. I know now, that I want to be with someone who I can truly feel secure with. Someone that I don't feel like I have to change myself as a person just to be able to deserve having them; Justin wanted to change for me, but maybe I just can't change for him in return in the ways that he wants me to, so that's why we can't work.

I can't live like that, worrying about the next time we get into a fight and he goes off, accidentally showing me that deep down, it's just the opposite of what he's always said about us. That I'm not the one that's too good to be with him and needs to change because of that. And what's even scarier, is that maybe somewhere deep down in the same way he might be feeling this, I might feel it, too. After all, I'm the one who's been deceiving him for so long, pretending like we're something that we're really not, I guess. At first he was just a job to me and nothing more, and if he only knew this, he just might finally wake up and see that he's much too good for somehow like me. Which just goes to prove that I'm being selfish right now. Because maybe I want too much from him; especially when you consider how we wouldn't even be in a relationship if it weren't for my stupid fucking job with Elise right now, if you consider how deceitful I've been to him all along.

But it's just like it was when I first decided that I should be together with Justin; even when I knew how it would hurt other people, how in some ways, it would be totally wrong for us to be together. I couldn't help what I felt and wanted then though, and that's what made me disregard the small doubts lingering in my gut when I finally got with him. And in much the same way, I still can't help how I feel now, either. As selfish as it may be, I want to feel like being in love is just like I always dreamed it would feel like. Right now, it doesn't feel that way though; and that's why we can't be together anymore, because instead of ignoring these little doubts, I think I need to listen to what my gut is saying this time.



****



{Justin}

"Hey," she says, quietly.

I jump at the sound of her voice, pulling out the Coke I was getting from the fridge right now, looking up at her with a sullen expression on my face. She looks sad--sad and tired--and not happy like I always wish she could be. "Hey," I repeat, softly.

"I guess we should probably talk," Chloe says, staring at the kitchen floor as she watches it, looking as if she wished it would swallow her whole or something.

I clear my throat and glance over towards the table, my eyes landing on the closed black book that I've got waiting for me to show her. "Yeah, if you don't mind," I say, at last, my sentence sounding equally as awkward as hers just did.

I hate this awkward feeling between us right now. I hate feeling this scared. I hate feeling like I've failed her because I was too blind to see that I needed to make her realize how special she is to me. And I hate feeling like I'm about to lose her, and there's nothing I can do about it, because there's no way in hell my stupid book is going to be able to make up for lost time. I should have realized it sooner, but I was too stupid and content with the fact that I finally, actually had her after wanting that for so long...

Pushing everything out of my head at once, I carefully make my way over to the table, after I notice she's taken a seat in the midst of my thoughts. I walk over and sit across from her, staring at her, not knowing how I should handle all of this. Chloe's eyes bore into my own, penetrating me to my bones. I remember all those times we used to have staring contests with each other, how I never even once got the urge to look away. I could have stared at her forever back then, but right now, the sadness I see in her brown eyes just makes me want to break her gaze as fast as I can, and pretend that she doesn't look so....

"I'm sorry about ignoring you and everything today," Chloe finally says, at last. She stares at me as she speaks, her voice coming out shaky. "I was angry about our fight last night and I wasn't ready to forgive you yet," she admits. With a heavy sigh, she pauses, and then adds, "But I do forgive you now...."

Oh, thank you, God.

She's forgiven me--she's not going to end things between us.

She's going to give me another chance...

Her voice suddenly continues on, though. "... And I don't want you to think that I'm a horrible person and that I've been playing all these games with you, Justin. 'Cause I know it probably seems like I change my mind a lot, but the truth is, is that I think despite how bad I wanted this to work out between us, I'm just starting to realize that...well, it just... it really can't...."

I frown, my heart dropping into my stomach at once, twisting in agony with each word she speaks. Fuck. How did I mess this up so much? "Chloe, that's not true," I argue, as calmly as I can at the moment. I mean, I just don't understand it. I don't get what I did that was so wrong to have to cause this to be the end of us. I know I messed up last night, and I'm sorry for that, so why can't she just forgive me?

"How could you decide that we shouldn't be together, just because we had one fight?" I add, weakly. "I didn't mean what I said...and....I had the worst night without you there. I just wanted to come home, but you were asleep when--"

"It's not that," she snaps, frustrated. "It's just that I'm confused about us, okay?"

I close my mouth, watching her helplessly.

"And I'm not breaking up with you because we fought, J. I mean, how many times have I been in fights with you?" she points out. "It's not exactly new to us. I'm ending this because our fight made me realize that I don't think you feel the same way about me as I do you. And I honestly don't even know if we're right for reach other anymore. I mean, I feel like we're so different--on different pages in this relationship--and just simply different people, you know?"

I take a few deep, controlled breaths, trying my best to stay cool in this moment. I kind of figured this was going to be the problem when I came to my senses earlier, but it's still so frustrating to hear her say it and really look like she believes it as she does so. And even worse, it's not the truth. I can't understand how she could even think like this and be saying these things to me. Why am I always the one that has to be pushing us to be together, the one that wants to make an effort to change in order for us to have what we have?

My breathing is heavy, my hands gripping the notebook tightly now. For the first time, I lose my reign at never being the first to look away, as I just can't take it anymore. I bring my gaze up to the wall behind us. Chloe taps her fingers on the table, obviously uncomfortable, obviously waiting for me to say something.

I bite my lip. Hard...

"I still want us to be friends," she finally says the dreaded, cliché line that I just can't bear to hear right now.

Right away, I painfully blow the shocked air out my lungs, my eyes landing on her face again, pleading with her eyes that she takes it back. "You can't do this to us, Chlo. I can't just--" I say at once. My voice trails off, my throat burning with unshed tears. It's so pathetic. I can't cry--but it hurts. It hurts that she's going to just throw this away, and all because we're different. What the fuck does she want? That's what makes her interesting to me. That's part of the reason why we work. She helps me keep on track in my life. I help her forget about being perfect every once in a while, I help her have fun. At least I thought I did, but apparently I was wrong.....

She makes me want to do good in school and all that important stuff that I somehow just let myself pretend I didn't have to deal with, that I didn't have to do. She's smart and pretty. She makes me happy and she makes me laugh. She's different from every girl, and she thinks that's why we shouldn't be together, when all I can see is that's what makes me love her even more.

We're different in some ways, and she doesn't even realize just how much alike we are, either. I close my eyes and re-open them, pleading with her once more, "I can't just let you go, not if you don't realize how--"

My voice tails off again. I don't even know what to say anymore. And I really don't think anything I can say is going to change her mind. I wish I could say all these things that I'm thinking and it mean something to her, but I just know by looking into her eyes, that it just won't matter somehow. My arm involuntarily reaches out, holding out the notebook to her in our unsaid silence. "I can't...." I try again, weakly. Once again, I come to a halt as I speak. I'm lost as to what I should say...

Maybe nothing at all is the best that I can do right now.

She hesitantly grabs onto the notebook, accepting my offer. So at last, I stand up; ready to walk away from her this time. Chloe is always the one walking away from us when it comes to us being together, and for once, I think it's time that I be the one to do the leaving. If she ever really loved me like the way she said she did, then she'll be the one to come back, too.



****



{Chloe}

I open the book with a racing heart, my insides pounding with all of my scattered emotions. It felt horrible seeing that look on his face when I told him I was breaking up with him. Really, really horrible. Part of me wanted to just to take it all back as soon as I said it, as soon as he at least appeared like he was so crushed. I wanted to make to make it all better, I really did, but I couldn't. I just couldn't...

Even now, I shouldn't even be torturing myself like this, reading whatever it is that is in this book. Right? I mean, it's bad enough that I had to let him go, and now I'm going to sit here and read this, when everything in me is screaming in my head that it's not a good idea. Somehow, I just don't think that anything in this book can make matters any better at this point in time. And if luck goes against me like it's been known to in the past, then whatever is in here will only end up making me miss and want him more than I already do.

Despite these thoughts, I can't stop myself, as my eyes quickly start to scan the first page. I'm weak, what can I say? I notice that it's a letter. His writing was never the easiest to read, but somehow I manage, as I slowly begin to take in each word:

Dear Chloe,

I figured that if I could find pictures that simply reminded me of you and why I loved you so much, and just by flipping through some stupid magazines and visiting a few web pages, then maybe you could see just how much you really mean to me. How much I love you, and in so many different ways, you probably don't even realize it...I know I'm not the best at showing you that sometimes, and I don't even exactly know how, but somewhere along the lines you've become someone who is so special to me. It's funny, because, when I first met you, it only took a week for me to decide that I hated you, and when I first got to finally see the real you, it only took me a second to fall in love with you. And I know that if I've screwed this up with you to the point where you can't forgive me, that it will take me forever to get over you.

You honestly mean the world to me, Chloe.

I love everything about you, every part of you, and I wouldn't change this last year for anything...

P.S. When you're done with the pictures, please try to remember that I can't exactly say I can write poetry. So just don't laugh too much, okay?

I wipe a tear from my eye, flipping to the next page of the notebook in anticipation. A little giggle involuntarily erupts from my throat, as I look at the pictures he's pasted besides each other onto this first page. One of them looks like he printed it offline; and it's a photo of the ugly villain herself--yup, you guessed it--Miss Cruella freakin' de Ville. His writing labels it as, "The Evil Chloe." I roll my eyes, remembering all the times he used to sing that dammed song to me. It's seems so long ago, but I guess it really wasn't. We've come along way, that's for sure. I notice the picture beside it next, realizing that it's none other than a picture of a delicious looking, pink frosted covered cupcake with sprinkles on top. "The Sweet Chloe," is how he labeled this one...

I laugh. He blows my mind sometimes.

I flip the page again, tilting my head to the side and staring at the new set of pics with intrigue. He cut specific letters which spell out, "Vivian Green," and placed them at the top of the page. Further down, there's a picture of 50 cent performing at some concert, throngs of people in the crowd. I laugh again, wondering how on earth Justin ended up thinking he could put Vivian Green and just pretend that she somehow reincarnated into the rapper 50 cent...

"I couldn't find a pic of Viv. Who would have thought that 50 was easier to find? Anyways, it just reminded me of our first date. I know we got into a fight at the end of the night, but hey, it was fun up until then, right?"

Well, I wouldn't exactly describe it was mind blowing fun, but I guess the whole situation is kind of funny looking back on it all. We couldn't even stand each other back then....

The next page has a picture of a bowl of shrimp. I immediately scrunch up my nose, imagining the nasty taste that it would leave in my mouth if I were to be eating it right now. I read his little note next...

"Note to self: Chloe hates shrimp. And I spent a lot of energy on that dinner; I'll have you know...."

I smile to myself, as I continue to flip through each page, touched with each image. I find a picture of a map, with the ever still lame ass line that says, "I need directions--to your heart, baby." There's a page where he drew a bingo sheet onto it, a page with a big picture of a cup of coffee, a page with a picture of a red heart, and lastly, a page that has a few butterflies, with writing that says, "I'm not good at math, but JT + CM = < 3. Wink, wink."

It gets even better though, because the next few pages have those poems he warned me about. Honestly, they're some of the worst things that I've ever read--but I couldn't love them any more because he at least--uh, well, he tried. The words are slightly scribbled out and marked over in some parts, and all around, it's just a complete mess--a beautiful disaster as Kelly Clarkson would say, if you will.

See for yourself:

These are all for you, baby girl. Don't fall in love with them too much. (I know they're really deep, but just try to stop yourself from thinking about how good they are when you read them.)

"The First Try" by Justin Timberlake
You know that I was in denial when I wrote that intro, don't you?

Chloe rhymes with doughy
And that's how you make me feel
And if you were a chicken I'd eat your thigh girl
Your love makes me go "my oh my"
I don't know why
But whenever I'm around you I feel so high
You're my cupcake
And your ass reminds me of a milkshake
When you smile, I melt in side....
Please tell me that this is real....


"The Second Attempt" by Justin Timberlake
A little better, no?

I know that you hate shrimp
So I had to find another way
To convey the way I feel about you
The feelings that strengthen everyday.

You used to piss me off with your
Organization and your sass
But now you turn me on with your
Kisses and your ass.

I know I was such a jerk
In the beginning to you
But I'm glad that those days
Are finally through.

So I told you that I liked
Your hot pussy the best,
But, now you have to believe me:
I was tripping you could say.
Cause I love you in every single way,
And want to show how much I adore you,
Each and every day.


"The Third One" by Justin Timberlake
Yeah, okay--so three isn't exactly a charm...

Your love is like a gentle breeze
That envelopes me by the beach.
Your kiss is definitely sweeter
Than the ripest Georgia peach.
I feel happy around you
No matter the time, and I'm so happy to finally admit
That you, my love, are mine.

I sigh, closing the book and closing my eyes. He said that three wasn't really a charm, but I'm actually thinkin' he was wrong....



****



{Justin}

She just knocked at my bedroom door. And I'll be the first one to admit to you, that for a second here, I was really starting to get worried.

I jump out of bed and make my to the door, pulling it open in utter anticipation.

I knew she would be back. I knew it. She loves me....

It's been an hour or so since I handed her the notebook, and as soon as I see her again, I can already tell that she's looked at it. Her eyes are back to normal--and she looks happy again. I smile slightly, watching her as she stares at me for a quick second. Before I know it, she leaps into me, wrapping her arms around my neck without even some much as a word.

I immediately hug her back, relieved beyond belief in just a matter of the thirty seconds she's been standing before me again. I burry my nose in her hair, as she sniffles against my chest and starts to cry. I just kiss the top of her head, rocking her back and fourth in my arms for what seems like forever.

We don't say anything to each other, yet I know that everything is going to be okay now. It's like an unspoken understanding between us or something. I squeeze her tighter to me, silently thanking God that it worked. She continues to cry against me, as we gently sway back and fourth to some unknown rhythm in my head.

No words are needed in this moment, because we only need each other right now. I guess it's like that old song says: Sometimes we say it best, when we don't say nothin' at all....

{Chloe}

I slowly apply mascara to each eye, blinking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror a few times after I...

"Chloe!"

When I hear my name, it momentarily breaks my concentration away from applying my make up. I drop the black eyeliner I had just picked up and let out a small groan. Justin, who by the way, yes, was the one to just call my name, seriously has got a knack for whining out loudly when he wants to. His voice booms at me all the way from down the hallway, confirming that he's definitely on his way to pester and whine at me right now; and just because I'm running a few minutes late while getting ready for us to go out tonight.

Geez.

He only called my name once, so I know that he's given up until he can regulate with me face-to-face.

Yup—here he comes, y'all. In 5—4—3—2—

"What in God's name is taking you so damn long, woman?" Justin suddenly demands, at once.

Smacking my lips at the mirror, my eyes involuntarily roll inside my head, as I quickly turn to look at the spot he's now occupying, casually leaning against my bathroom door. "Hi Justin," I greet him, happily.

He rolls his own eyes, his face contorting in exasperation. "We're gonna be late to the movie if we don't leave right now."

"I know, I know," I relent, guiltily. In a much too sappy, sugar coated tone, I sweetly add, "And I promise I'll be done in less than five minutes, okay sweetheart?"

Justin sighs, lightly banging his forehead against the door frame a few times. "Females," he whines, at last. "Completely impossible to deal with... I swear."

I snort at that one, turning back to watch my reflection again. Amused, I comment, "Funny that you say that when we all know it's really the other way around."

"You've got to be kidding!" he suddenly exclaims with fervor.

I laugh again, dismissing his comment off with a wave of my hand. "Okay-kay-kay, sweetie. Go start the car and I'll be down in like two seconds," I say, cleverly changing the subject.

I mean, there's really no point in arguing it out, right? Because I think we all know where this conversation would go if it continued on. Yeah. I'd end up being right, 'cause let's just face it; women are just a tad bit more clever when it comes to comparing their brains with that of the male species. And since this is a fact in my own humble opinion, then I'm also guessing that poor Justin would either end up a) in denial or b) in shambles when we finally finished with our little, mini battle-of-the-sexes convo that I'm nipping in the ass right now.

Tuning into his words again, I hear him asking me, "No more than five minutes then? And what all do you have left to do? "

"Yes, yes," I answer, dropping my eyeliner. "I just gotta put on my shoes and get my coat now," I explain. I walk pass Justin and he turns to watch me move around the room, as I quickly remember, "Oh yeah, and print out the directions."

"Directions?!" he shouts. Damn. In a blink of just a freakin' eye, he's already back to 'I'm-Justin-and-I'm-a freakin'-big-ass-drama-queen' status again. Seriously. The boy even threw his hands up in the air for emphasis and shit when he said that one simple word.

Okay, so I guess I should have just kept that little detail on the down low, huh? Oh well, too late now. I shrug my coat on and give him a disapproving look. "Yes directions, Justin," I confirm, sensibly. "It's not like we frequent the Cascade drive-in-movies or anything, so I think it's best if we know how to get there before we actually go, don't you?"

"Please, woman," Justin scoffs, at once. Pulling his keys outta his pockets, he smugly continues, "I know exactly where it's at."

How much do you want to bet me that that wasn't complete and utter bullshit? Oh wait, I know; you wouldn't bet against me, right? Yeah, I guess you're too smart for that 'cause you and I both know that what he just said was a bunch of crap, indeed.

"Oh really?" I finally ask him, though I already know the answer to my own question anyways. I'll just amuse him, if you will...

"Yes, it's right over by Darnell's cousin house," Justin answers me, arrogantly. "And I've been there a dozen times before, so don't you fret my pet—"

I roll my eyes, giving him a disgusted look when he says that last part.

Justin stops speaking and chuckles at me for a second. Then he smiles that crooked grin of his, confidently continuing on, "So as I was saying--I'm pretty sure we'll make it there--and pretty damn easily if I do say so myself."

"Right, okay," I snort, smartly.

"Sooo," Justin says, ignoring me and emphasizing the word 'so' as if just to prove how little he cares about my obvious suspicions. Extending his arms in my direction, he finishes, "I'm going to start up the car now, so just get your shoes on and then hurry that fine ass out to join me a.s.a.p. You got it?"

"But..."

He claps his hands. "Chop-chop, woman!" he interrupts me, joyfully.

I open my mouth again to protest, but he quickly holds his hand up and starts trotting his smug ass towards the exit before I can even utter another syllable. "Chop-chop!" he repeats himself again, amusedly disappearing through the doorway.

"Ugh," I mutter to myself.

You see that? Men are the ones who are impossible to deal with! Well, almost impossible, anyways. Luckily enough, us women are clever enough to find loopholes that come in aid when dealing with their impossible asses...

Yup. You heard me right.

No more whining and bitching and complaining about our relationship and how wrong it's going already so far. I've had all night to think about it, and Justin's little gestures reminded me of three very, very important things:

1) Firstly, I was being way too much of an overly sensitive girl about us this week. So basically, I decided that I really need to stop acting like an overemotional cow and just see how good it can be with us without me freaking out all the time. Because clearly, I'm entirely too smart for all that, and even more clearly, there are way more productive ways for me to be exerting my precious energy instead.

2) Secondly, I really was being overly sensitive because in all honestly, Justin isn't all that bad anymore. He's really changed a whole lot, and the boy has got lots of 'great-boyfriend-potential' if you ask me. He just needs a little guidance to help his slow ass along the way sometimes because for God's sake, it's Justin we're talking about here.

3) And finally, if anyone is going to push Justin to shape his ass up even more, then I'm just the girl to do it. After all, he did say I make him wanna be a better person and all. Heh. Not that I'm bragging about it or anything, though...



****



About ten minutes later, I stand in front of Justin's black truck, reaching out to open the door. I come prepared and ready for our evening out, directions off MapQuest.com brilliantly tucked inside my black purse. Ahem, don't look at me like that! It's not like I printed them out because I doubted his word when he said he knew where he was going; it's just more like I printed them out, since I know from experience, that it never hurts to have Plan B ready in case Plan A fails for some tragic reason or another. (And it especially can't hurt to have a back up plan when the brains behind Plan A happen to be coming from a male brain, if-ya-know-what-I'm-sayin' and stuff. But let's pretend we didn't just share that with each other, okay?)

Slamming the door shut, I crawl into my seat and smile at my boyfriend once I'm situated. "Let's roll out, baby..."

Justin immediately starts to reverse, reprimanding me as he does so, "Chloe Marin, look at the damn clock! You took exactly 13 minutes to..."

"Aww!" I exclaim, reaching over and grabbing the single-stemmed red rose that lies on Justin's lap. I finger the bow tied in red ribbon around it, as I excitedly coo out, "You got me a flower! That's so cute! And that's cool, because I have a present for you, too..."

We stop at a red light, and Justin smiles, forgetting to bitch at me for being late as he playfully comments, "Yeah, I did get you a flower--and luckily you made it to the car before it wilted away and died."

Okay, so he didn't quite forget to bitch about the whole me being late thing. I smack at his shoulder, letting out a small giggle. "Very funny," I say to him. "No less hilarious when you consider just who's saying it and all."

"Excuses, excuses," Justin chides me. "But then again, I guess it really isn't me who should be upset that we're gonna be fifteen minutes late to our movie. It's not like it'll be a huge disappointment to me if we miss the first part of Dirty Dancing," he states, sarcastically. "Much more like a blessing than a let down."

"Ha!" I say, reaching out to change the radio station. "You must be crazy, boy." I press another button, deciding that I'll just go ahead and find a good song to listen to instead of acknowledging Justin's little confession. Grinning when Jojo's 'Leave, (Get Out)' reaches my ears, I joyfully say, "Oh—I love this song! The girl who sings it is so cute. I saw her on MTV the other day. And plus, it's such a great message for those girls who need to just dump their deadbeat men and move on, ya know?"

"Oh no," Justin whines, at once. "Not this shit, please...I mean, can't we listen to rap or rock or just something--anything else--but this?"

"Um..." I pause, pretending to think about it for a second. Finally, I let out a loud sigh, dramatically slouching against the seat. "Fine, I guess so," I reply, reluctantly.

His eager hand immediately reaches out for the stereo, more than ready to change the station. Before he can halt Jojo's voice though, I quickly add the rest of what I was waiting to tell him when I agreed to listen to something else. "But if you wanna get laid again anytime soon, then you'd probably just stick with this song and use your wandering hand to turn the volume up instead of changing the station."

Heh—and that's all it takes, ladies.

Just as quickly as he had stuck his hand out, he pulls it away, landing it right back on the steering wheel where it belongs. Then he huffs, pouting his lip out in surrender. "You ain't right, girl," he whines, at last. His voice is gloomy, as he again mutters, "You know, you just ain't right..."

I comfortingly pat his shoulder. "You speak the truth. I ain't right," I sympathetically agree with his analysis. My sympathy quickly leaves though, as I cheerfully share an even better analysis of my own, "But at the same time, at least I get my way just for being wrong, wouldn't you say?"



****



"I still can't believe you printed out the directions," Justin mumbles, forty-five-minutes into the movie. Oh and we've only, actually, truly watched a good damn ten minutes out of these said forty-five-minutes, mind you.

"Oh my gosh!" I snap. "Would it have been better if I didn't point out you were going the wrong way? You missed the exit! I was only being helpful when I pointed it out to you," I defend myself, yet once again. You'd think after the first five times he complained about it, he'd get sick of doing so. Wrong. "And besides, I wasn't even going to look at the directions until you started whispering curse words under your breath. It made me nervous. I can't help that..."

"Curse words? Under my breath?! Did not."

"You did too."

"Did not."

"The longer you bring this up, the more and more of the movie we're missing."

"Fine," he says. "I won't talk to you anymore."

"Thank you."

He gives me a dirty look, but doesn't speak. Praise Jesus! I think he's finally getting the hint. So I smile at him. Then I kiss his cheek and lean my head against his shoulder, attempting for a second time tonight to get into this freakin' movie...

Ahh, shit. Wait a second. Before I try again, I better boost his ego up a little bit. (Not 'cause I feel sorry for him or anything, but just to ensure that he really stops complaining and finally shuts up about the whole direction thing once and for all, of course.)

"Don't worry, baby--even though you got us lost, I'll still let you talk to me when the movie ends," I assure him, sweetly breaking our short lived silence.

Justin grunts, not entirely impressed.

"Besides, I'm sure you knew exactly where we were going the whole time," I continue. "And I'm sure the only reason you missed the exit is 'cause you must have lost your head from listening to all my really good music that you don't like, right?"

He's quiet for a few seconds. Come on, Justin. I know you want to answer me. Answer me...

"The music was a bit distracting," Justin finally agrees, nodding his head at last.

Yes, I knew he'd fall for it...

I lean up and place a small peck onto his lips. As I pull away, he thoughtfully adds, "And it's sort of stressful trying to drive and listen to all that—err—sort of good--but just mostly crap music that you played. No offense or anything."

"Uhuh," I agree with him, half-heartedly.

My ass I agree with him! But hell, I wanna watch my movie in peace, so why not? Sometimes you gotta sacrifice things in order to get what you really want, ya know?

"It was mostly all my fault that we missed so much of the movie," I fib, easily. "So, I'm sorry; I know how much you were looking forward to seeing Dirty Dancing in its full length and all, but will you forgive me?"

"Of course," Justin immediately says. He squeezes his arm that's draped around me. "You know I can't stay mad at you, cupcake. You're too sweet..."

He really does say wise shit sometimes, don't he? Hopefully he shuts up now that he's redeemed himself with that line, though.

"Very true," I smirk, expecting my golden silence to finally come now that we got that shit over with.

Unfortunately, Justin has to fuck it all up with, "Yeah, and I was--"

"Shh," I hiss at him, suddenly losing a little of my patience when my plan doesn't seem to be working quite yet.

"Okay, okay," he relents, at once. He pauses for a second. "Just one last thing before I shut up though."

"What?" I groan.

"Most of the time, you are too sweet," he repeats. "And the only times you aren't, you're letting that Cruella side get the best of you. Which is okay, 'cause we all have our bad days—"

"Yeah, um, okay, right." I hold my hand over his mouth. "It's definitely about that time for you to shut up again."



****



{Justin}

"Hey, Justin?"

My eyes drift away from the windshield where I have full viewing of the silver screen, landing on Chloe with curiosity. I was finally just starting to get into the movie and now she wants to go against that whole shut-the-hell-up-and-watch-the-damn-movie rule she made up a little while ago?

Unbelievable. "What?"

Pointing to a car up ahead, she says, "That guy just brought back some snacks to his car."

I look in the direction she's pointing in, as I wait for her to finish. A few seconds pass, and I'm still waiting...

"Um. That's nice?" I finally provide, nonchalantly bringing my attention back to the movie.

This part is probably a little more interesting...

"Justin."

Ugh. "Yes, honey?" I ask, mustering up the strength to sound somewhat sweet.

"I guess that means you want me to go get something from the snack bar myself, right?"

I have no clue what the hell this girl is talking about right now! Do you?

"Um, what?"

"My throat is kinda dry and I really want some popcorn, so I'll be right back, okay?" Chloe asks me instead of explaining herself, quickly pulling away from our embrace and all.

Ahh—hell. I get it. Of course she couldn't just ask me straight up to go for her, she has to play those evil little mind games that you women like to play with us men and shit. "No, no," I say. "I'll go get you something. What did you want again?"

"Aww--are you sure you don't mind?" she asks me, innocently.

She's not that innocent though, trust me. "Of course not." After all, it's not like we're going to be having dinner soon anyways, and it's not like I haven't already missed half the damn movie as it is, right? Right. "Just remind me what you wanted again."

"Coke and popcorn, please."

I nod, as I hastily start to open my door. Hopefully there isn't a line or something...

"Oh, wait."

"Hmmm?"

"Can you please get me some sour patch kids, too?" she requests. "Those sound really good right now."

"No problem." I climb outta the car and shut the door behind me. An afterthought quickly comes to mind though. So I turn around and tap on the window, waiting for her to roll it down. She comes into clear view again, leaning over and staring at me with curiosity on her face, as she has just rolled down the window for me.

"What's up?"

"Whatever you do, do not," I pause for dramatics, "I repeat, do not unlock the car doors until I'm back." She immediately pulls a face at me, one which says for me to 'shut the hell up' again. Of course, I continue on anyways. "I mean it, Chloe. They stay locked until I'm back. No matter what."

In another afterthought, I quickly correct myself, "Well, unless you're like dying or something and you desperately need help. But I doubt that would happen, so..."

Again, she flashes the 'shut the hell up' look, stopping me from further exaggerating that statement. "Anyways, if some fucker tries to get you to open the door, or unroll the window, or something sick and twisted like that--then just call my cell and stay put, aight? Or you can call the cops if absolutely necess—"

"Justin!" she says, forcefully. "I'm sure nobody is going to—"

"But if they do," I insist, admonishing her with a stern voice. "All I'm sayin' is I don't want any psycho asses havin' access—"

"Yes, I know, dad, I know!" she huffs, interrupting me at last. "I get the point--loud and clear--okay?"

A smile immediately breaks out onto my face. I give her a thumbs up and nod my head. "Good," I say with a wink. "And I didn't really think you would actually open the door for a stranger anyways, 'cause I know you're way too damn smart for that, but I was just makin' sure in..."

I'm a little surprised—okay a lot surprised-- as I notice that the window is suddenly being rolled up. It's completely cutting me off, and right in the middle of me telling her my explanation!

And damn...I can't believe she's just locking me out of my own car like this...

Well—okay fine; maybe I can.

Before I know it, my vision of her is fully blurred by tinted glass, as the window is now entirely shut again. I can't help but chuckle to myself as I finally turn to head for the snack bar in resignation. I start to walk, shoving my hands in my jean pockets as I do so. "Yup, that's my girl..." I mumble to nobody in particular.



****



"Thanks," Chloe says, as I hand her over another pile of red sour patch candies. She hates all the other colors, (very picky, I tell you), so I've been taking out all the red ones for her while I eat the others colors that she doesn't like. I'm nice; I know.

Thankfully enough, the movie is almost over by now. This is great for me, because I'm really hungry and I wanna eat dinner already. A few minutes later, and Chloe lets out a small yawn, interrupting whatever small fraction of attention I had been devoting towards watching the movie right then. "You're not gonna fall asleep on me before we eat, are ya?"

She shakes her head against my shoulder, mumbling something along the lines of 'not uhh' under her breath. I smile, bringing my lips down to softly kiss her forehead. "Good."

Although I do try to focus my attention back onto the movie after this, it really doesn't work. Unlike me, Chloe's actually paying attention to the film, which leaves no room for her to entertain me as well. So I just start to keep myself busy by toying with her fingers in the dark instead. I glance down at her profile after a while, lazily watching her watch the movie.

"You look really pretty tonight," I mumble my thoughts, at last. I was going to be quiet, but boredom got the best of me, and besides it's the truth. "You're all beautiful under the moonlight."

Chloe gazes up and smiles at me, kissing my lips and rubbing her nose against my own a few times. She pulls away and sighs out, "I love you..."



****



{Chloe}

"You know what we should do this summer?" Justin asks me.

I finish taking the sip of my iced tea before I shrug my shoulders at him from across the table. We're sitting inside a dim little Italian restaurant, enjoying our dinner and just talking about whatever comes to mind. So far it's been fun. "What's that?" I reply, interestedly.

"You should come with me somewhere," he says. "I mean, like we could go on a trip together for a while or something."

"Where would we go?"

"I dunno. My uncle who lives in New York is gonna be leaving the house to my cousin for a few weeks when him and my aunt go on some vacation they've been planning. So we could stay there for a while and then--I don't know--we could maybe take a road trip when we get back."

I smile, excited at the idea. "Yeah, okay. That sounds like fun."

"Really?" Justin raises an eyebrow, his own face breaking out into a smile as well. "You're agreeing to it that easily?"

I laugh, shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, why not? It'll be fun spending the summer with you."

My cell phone suddenly starts to jingle in my purse. I quickly hold up my finger, pulling it out. I bite my lip when I notice that it's Elise calling me again. I feel bad that I'm not going to answer it again, but I really can't talk to her right now when I'm out with Justin. And as horrible as this is, I've been avoiding her ever since we got together anyways, because I just don't know how I'm going to explain myself to her. I know I need to face stuff sooner or later, but there's this little part of me that likes to think the right time will come for all that and I'll just know it. So far, I haven't felt like the right time has hit. So yeah...

"Who was that?"

I place the phone down onto the table with a sigh. "Elise."

"Oh," Justin says. "Why didn't you answer?" he adds, curiously.

If I didn't know any better, I'd think he looked a little uncomfortable or something all of the sudden. Maybe it's just awkward for him, since he used to date her and all. That and I'm pretty sure that he doesn't like her all that much. I don't really know what he has against her or anything, but who knows? I don't really care all that much right now, either. "Because," I say, at last. I reach my hand and grab a hold of his from across the table's surface, giving him a small smile. "I only wanna talk to you right now."

Justin licks his lips, a cocky grin in place. "Yeah, I guess I can't blame you for that," he says. "If I were you I'd only wanna talk to me right now, too."

I giggle at him, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, whateva," I say. "So do you wanna open up the gift I got you today?" I add, changing the subject again.

"What'd you get me?"

"Hang on." I pull out a little brown package with a white bow tied around it from my purse, sliding it over to his side of the table. "Okay, open it."

A low chuckle escapes his mouth when he's done unwrapping the gift. "You got me a black daily planner?" he asks me. Teasingly, he asks, "What are you tryin' to say, that I'm not organized enough for you or something?"

"Of course not," I drawl out, amusedly. "What on earth could ever make me wanna say all that? I just got it because I figured you could start striving to be a little more like me, even if school is almost out for the year and all. And besides, I also left you some laundry detergent and fabric softener on your bed as an extra bonus since you really need to do your laundry and all."

"Such thoughtful gifts," Justin says, sweetly. He flashes his white teeth at me in a perfect smile before quickly lifting his hand up to blow me a kiss. "Thank you so much, baby."

I lightly kick his leg under the table, tilting my head to the side as I watch him. "It's okay; you don't have to pretend that you love my gifts. But trust me, you'll appreciate them in the long run, when all your clothes are clean again and you have all your shit together and organized into a nice little schedule..."

"Well when you put it that way," he jokes, lightly interrupting me. "How can I not just love them to death already?"

"I don't know," I laugh. "But since you've impressed me with your pretending to love them just for my sake and all, I think I'll go ahead and just let you know that—"

Justin raises an eyebrow at me when I trail off, licking his lips in anticipation for me to continue. "Let me know that what?" he pries, curiously.

"Well," I pause. "I'm kinda hoping that you'll like your last surprise a little better than all the rest, 'cause if you don't then I'll be worried."

"Explain."

"Um--let's just say that I also bought a little somethin' somethin' to wear for you tonight when we get home."

He widens his eyes at my words, staring at me in surprise. A grin slowly breaks out on his face, his eyes frantically starting to dart around the dim restaurant all of the sudden. "Oh shit—oh my god—where's our waiter at?" he blurts out, all at once.

I scrunch my nose up, a little confused as to why he's worried about our waiter right now. "Why? You wanna get dessert or something before we go?" I ask him, perplexed.

He quickly glances at me again, his face now just as perplexed as I probably just sounded a second ago. "No, of course not," he exclaims, slowly. "Why, do you?" he adds, worriedly.

"Uh, no, not really..."

Justin lets out a breath of relief at that. "Good 'cause I'm tryna get the check and get you the hell home, so I can worship your body in all kinds of special ways..."

"Yeah, um so," I say, glancing around the room as well now. "Where the hell is our waiter when we need him?"

{Chloe}

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Trace dramatically exclaims, carelessly dropping his pizza slice back onto his plate.

My eyes roll on their own accord, and just as I’m about to open up my mouth with a smartass reply, Chris appears in the room. He heads towards the fridge and the table suddenly grows quiet; an awkward tension is now circulating throughout our kitchen.

As Chris hunches over and rummages through the fridge, Justin is the first to speak up, “Hey, do you want a slice?” he offers, friendly.

Chris finally grabs a can of coke, shutting the refrigerator door and looking into our general direction, a bored expression adorning his face. “No thanks,” he replies, coldly.

Without another word, he scatters out of the room, once again leaving the three of us alone. In my peripheral vision, I take notice of my boyfriend’s disappointment, as his shoulders slightly slump and he frowns in defeat. I quickly reach out, placing my hand on top of his. Giving him a gentle squeeze, I softly assure, “He’s not gonna stay mad at us forever, baby.”

Justin directs his gaze on me. The sadness in his eyes almost about breaks my heart right here and now. “I know,” he nods at me, solemnly.

Trace suddenly clears his throat, confirming his remained presence at the table. “I don’t even know why you two even care anymore,” he comments, apparently ready to open up with some of his own emotions towards the matter, “I mean, I don’t have anything against the guy, but personally, I just don’t see what his deal is. He needs to get over y’all being together already.”

Not to imply that he didn’t just make a good point or anything, I decide that it’s time for a change of subject for now. I can barely get Justin to open up on the issue with me when we’re alone as it is. So I let out a sigh and move the conversation right along, as I smartly remark, “Let’s not loose sight of the real problems here, Trace.”

He raises an eyebrow at my words. I grin sarcastically. “As I was telling you boys earlier,” I start out with them authoritatively, “You two are absolutely not allowed to throw me a birthday party tomorrow! I hate celebrating my birthday’s period, and I’m not going to get trashed just because it’s my prerogative to do so now that I’m turning of age.”

Trace blinks and Justin belches once I’ve finally finished with my sentence, causing my eyes to roll for yet another time tonight. I swear talking to a man is like talking to a fuckin’ wall sometimes. And right now, I’m talking to two walls. (Lucky me—please insert the sarcasm). “I hate alcohol,” I stubbornly point out in addition, absentmindedly picking at the pepperoni on my pizza slice.

“Chloe,” Trace cuts into the conversation again.

He’s using that tone that guys use when they think you’re being a foolish little girl who needs a big strong man like themselves to simply guide you along into the right direction. Yes, I know—idiot, right?

“You can’t just refuse to get drunk on your 21st birthday,” he continues, matter-of-factly. “Think about how lame your kids are going to think you are when they ask what you did to celebrate your 21st and you have to answer with…”

“Shut up and eat your damn pizza, Trace,” I interrupt him, flashing a sweet grin after I do so.

He holds his hands up innocently. “Touché.”

I slowly chew on another bite of my food, watching the two of them scarf down their own bites rather quickly in comparison. In an afterthought, I indignantly add, “And my kids would never think I’m lame, by the way. They are going to be smart, well-rounded, and highly educated—just like their mommy is.“

I notice the snorts that are just waiting to escape from their mouths. Jackasses; I’m still not going to shut up yet. “Who, mind you guys, thinks getting trashed just for the sole purpose of celebrating a stupid birthday, is a rather reprehensible thing to do.” I snap my finger and sardonically finish off, “Oh yes, and of course, just completely retarded all together.”

Okay, I’m done. I’m stepping off of my soapbox.

And this time, Trace isn’t the only one with a blinking problem. Justin is doing the same damn thing that his friend is doing right now, appearing just as easily as dense to everything I uttered in the last sixty seconds or so.

But hey—who am I to be complaining about such minor details, anyways? In fact, I suppose I should feel somewhat pleased with their reactions. I mean, at least there was no belching involved this time around, right?



****



“Whatcha readin’?”

Placing the magazine down on my nightstand, I divert my attention to the inquiry; which just came from a freshly showered Justin, who just hopped into bed besides me while voicing his curiosity. At last, I start to respond, “Some article about this lady who was having irregular periods and then—“

Justin immediately scrunches up his nose. He distastefully interrupts me, “Whoa…sounds really disgusting already.”

I giggle at him. Lightly kicking one of my legs against his from sideways, I comment, “Oh gosh, that was so unoriginal of you—I mean you’re such a typical boy, J.”

“No,” he disagrees, at once. His arms reach out, pulling me down and against his body, so that I’m snuggled against his side, face-to-face. Our foreheads connect and our eyes become directly focused on one another in the intimate proximity that we’ve now created with each other. “I’m not a typical boy, Chloe—I’m a man—a very sexy one,” finally comes his correction of my comment.

“Right,” I laugh at him again. “My bad…my bad.”

Justin lays his hand on my waist, playfully dipping down to tug at my bottom lip with his teeth for a second or two or so. Then he pulls a few centimeters away, an offended pout gracing his features, “So you don’t think so, huh?” he asks me, sadly.

I briefly kiss his lips, reaching out to smooth my thumb against his forehead afterwards. I stroke my finger back and forth across his skin, scoffing at his question, “Yeah right, stupid. You know I think you’re sexy—sexy beyond all words that is.”

His pout turns into a smile and then his lips keep tugging upward until at last, his smile turns into a cocky grin of satisfaction. His hand suddenly slides down my waist, as he mischievously pinches my bottom from out of nowhere. “Mmm, yeah—but you’re more sexy though, baby girl,” he huskily whispers, trying to sound all seductive-like and shit in the process.

I laugh, stealing my fingers away from where they’d been caressing at his face and hair. Pulling his hand from behind me, I place it back onto its appropriate position, where it gently lies atop my right hip once again. “Stop trying to make me horny, Justin. It’s not going to work; I’m too tired for all that shit.”

It’s his turn to laugh this time. “Who said anything about getting you horny?” he asks me, smugly. Teasingly and in an annoying sing-song-type-of-way, he dramatically reveals, “Well, well, well—ooh—my, my, ooh my. I do think somebody is trying way too hard here to suppress her underlying…and quite frankly…madly burning desires to take advantage of my body 24/7 in naughty, kinky and oh so very nasty kind of ways. What do you think about that though, huh sexy mama? Hmmm?”

“Wow,” I say, more and more giggles spilling out of me by the second. I return my hand to his face, resting my palm against his forehead with concern. “Baby, are you feeling okay tonight? Because you’re sort of starting to sound like a Kellogg’s Froot Loop…or something crazy like that. You know what I mean, hone—“

His lips gently graze against my own, and he gives me one of those slow but thorough and really, really perfect Justin-kinds of kisses, only he knows how to give me. We share a few more short pecks in between some other more lingering ones—and shit-okay, yes-dammit—he has successfully halted me from completing whatever the hell it was I had been trying to say before all this kissing mess began occurring between us in the first place. Oh well—fuck it. I think I’d rather just stay kissing his perfect mouth instead, anyways…

He suddenly pulls away from my lips though. A reprimanding kind of tone is now laced throughout his voice, as he brings our previous conversation back into progress, “Little girl, I know you weren’t tryin’ to call me crazy before I kissed you just now. I mean, damn—don’t make me hafta to spank that little, fine ass before it’s even your birthday yet, cupcake,” he teasingly warns me. “I know you like it like that, but you’ll be getting twenty-one of those babies tomorrow, so you just must be patient for them, aright?”

“Ha—you wish I liked it like that, J. You’ll give me birthday spankings over my dead body,” I reply definitely. Justin lazily grunts in response to my response. I take this as my cue to pull away from our embrace. Sliding over to my nightstand, I cut off the light from my reading lamp, which had been emitting annoyance on my eyes by now for a while anyhow. Then I crawl back over to Justin’s side and scoot down a bit, resting my head on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. My leg wraps around him from the side, and I hug my arm against his lower stomach. “I’m sort of sleepy, but sort of not sleepy,” I whisper out loud.

His lips softly caress my forehead and then they pull away, his fingers begin sliding through some of my loose locks with ease. “Mmm,” is the only reply that eventually comes out of those pretty lips of his.

We lay there in silence for a while, and I let out a sigh of contentment. For the most part, I’m extremely happy with the way my life is going right now—and overall, I’m way happier than I have been in a very, very long time. Tonight was a good night and I had fun hanging out with Justin and Trace (even though they are mildly annoying in certain moments of time together).

These past few weeks have been really nice though; being with Justin and in love with him, him being in love with me, too. We’ve managed to balance each other out pretty well lately; he’s been making me loosen up about…well, just everything I always seem to stress out about in general. And of course, I’ve continued to stay on his ass when it comes to his academics and such. But yeah—it’s been really amazing with us these last few weeks—it really has. And I’ve even started to become closer friends with his friends. Which is pretty cool. I mean, it hasn’t even been a whole year since the only true friend I really had here in Chicago was my best buddy Chris. And now, all of the sudden, I feel like I’ve actually found other people to care about and share friendships with.

Speaking of Chris though, ironically enough, he’s one of the few things that have been bringing me down lately. I know what Justin and I did and how we did it was wrong. I mean, going behind Chris’ back and stuff—it wasn’t right of us to sneak around and betray his trust like that. I really do believe that I’ve learned my lesson in all of this. I don’t even blame him for being upset the way he is; but at the same time, I guess I just thought that my old best friend would already have come back to me by now.

I knew he wasn’t going to stay at Marissa’s forever, allowing Justin and I to just inhabit his apartment all alone. I knew that. We’re all roommates for God’s sake—we can’t quite change that, not in any easy sort of way at least. So Chris came back and we’ve all been living under the same roof again, just like before. Only now, Chris barely acknowledges our existence; he acts as if the mere sight of either one of us disgusts him in really horrible, terrible ways.

At first, I’ll admit I was really pissed about this. I had figured by the time he came back from Marissa’s, he’d be ready to forgive Justin and I—thought he would be willing to accept the fact that we really are serious about each other. But it turns out that I was wrong—very, very wrong. And even though this still makes me mad sometimes, it mostly just hurts anymore.

Especially because it’s not only hurting me; it’s also hurting Justin, too. It’s not as though he’s actually claimed it does, but I just know it does. The thing is I see how Justin’s entire demeanor changes whenever Chris shuts him out or treats him like he’s still angry at him. And I can just tell by the way he acts, how bad it hurts him—even if he won’t admit it to me or anybody else out loud. I can’t imagine having your best friend punch you in the face and still feeling like you deserved it somehow, but that’s what Justin feels like is the truth. It’s about the only thing he’s said when it comes to conversations involving Chris these days…

“Justin?” I suddenly murmur into the darkened silence.

“Yeah?” he whispers back.

“Do you think Chris will say happy birthday to me tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Justin answers me, softly. He pauses and lets out a heavy sigh, kissing the top of my head and tightening his arms around me. “I hope so.”

I gulp; my throat is unexpectedly tightening with emotion, my eyes are starting to burn with unshed tears. “What if he never forgives us though?” I worriedly ask him next, the thought painfully crossing through my mind like a ton of bricks falling onto the top of my head at once.

“I- I don’t know, baby.”

It’s not what I’d wished to hear from him.

What else could he have honestly said though?

Our breathing goes back to being the only sound again. I just lay in Justin’s strong arms, troubled with all these abrupt worries. For the first time in a while, I allow myself to remember my whole job/deal with Elise. I’ve been trying to pretend like it’s all just going to somehow magically go away or something; like I’m not avoiding her because I don’t want to deal with things, because I don’t have to worry when magic’s involved, right?

Deep down though, I always realize its only wishful thinking. And there’s always this part of me, this part of me that feels so, so guilty inside. I mean, what if Chris really doesn’t forgive us ever again, and what if it ends up that I’ve cost Justin his best friend? All for falling in love with someone who was paid to make him fall in the first place?

Sometimes I really wish I could just tell Justin and everything would still somehow turn out all okay for us—I honestly wish for that more than anything else in this whole entire world right now. A nagging fear always reminds me that things can never truly be that simple for me though. I know he would never forgive me if he found out about everything; and then he’d go back to hating me again—only forever this time.

The thought of that happening is almost unbearably too painful for my heart to handle. And I guess that’s why I’ve been trying so hard, to run away from all these terrible thoughts in the first place. Because maybe—maybe when it truly comes down to it—living with guilt is better than living with loss.

A few minutes pass before I find myself softly asking him yet another question tonight. “Do—do you ever—like...maybe…do you wish things could go back to how they were before?”

It takes a while for him to answer me, and I almost think he isn’t going to—until finally, I hear his low reply, “I’ll never regret falling in love with you, if that’s what you mean.”

You don’t mean that, Justin.

You really don’t.

And I know maybe you truly think you do, but if you only knew everything, maybe you would realize how wrong you were when you said that.

“That—yeah, that’s what I meant,” I answer him, weakly.

As much as I try to fight it, a tear slips out of the corner of my eye, trailing a jagged path down my cheek. It’s completely lame of me to be crying like this right now, but I can’t help it when the sniffles start to pore out from within.

“Its 11:48, you know,” Justin tells me, at last. His thumb brushes away my tears and he shakily says, “You’re not allowed to…you can’t be crying when I’m the first one to tell you happy birthday in 12 minutes…you promise me?”

Nodding my head against him, I whisper, “Okay.” I carefully sneak my hand up from around Justin’s stomach, resting my trembling palm against his heart. I feel it rhythmically beating beneath my skin and smile through my tears. “I really do love you, Justin.”

“I know.”

When twelve more minutes finally pass us by, Justin still keeps his promise. At 12:00 am, I hear him say my name, wondering whether or not I already fell asleep. I keep my eyes shut and I try not to forget to keep myself from crying; I have to keep concentrating on the feel and sound of his each and every heartbeat instead.

“Well, I guess you fell asleep already,” he continues into the dark when I still haven’t answered him. “But umm…anyways. Happy birthday, beautiful,” Justin softly breathes out, finishing at last.

And then he falls asleep—for real.



****



{Justin}

This isn’t supposed to be happening again. I slam the front door shut and step inside our empty apartment, going back to the kitchen and taking in the scene with anxiety.

All of the food probably grew cold long before I ever returned back here again…

It’s my girlfriend’s 21st birthday—and I don’t know why she’s not here right now.

She could be hurting and there’s no way for me to know, no way for me to help her. Jesus Christ, it’s nearly 10:00 fucking pm right now, and I have no fucking clue where my girlfriend is at. She’s supposed to be here. She was supposed to come home from work, and I was supposed to finally pull off that whole cooking her a romantic dinner thing I tried back when. It didn’t exactly go down how I had planned for it to last time…and this time…it was supposed to be perfect for her, on her perfect birthday.

And it would have been; only she’s not here with me, and she hasn’t been since she last left this morning. She should be though...she belongs here with me, where I know she’s safe and I can protect her. I don’t want to believe or even think about things like her being in some kind of horrible accident—to wonder if she’s laying dead somewhere, on some cold pavement in the city of Chicago, Illinois.

My collar begins to feel tight, and I quickly start to unbutton my shirt, loosening my tie and yanking it above my head. I throw it down and the knots that have been forming in my stomach since the first fucking full hour she was late start turning way too intense for me to handle anymore.

I just got back from the coffee house. She wasn’t there—she left a long time ago. I’ve called her cell phone a million times; I’ve left her a thousand messages on her voicemail. She always answers her phone when I call—she always calls me back if she doesn’t.

“I don’t understand,” I cry out loud, stupidly punching my fist into the table.

My hand begins to throb and I don’t even fucking care about the pain. I begin to wonder if there’s a reason why she would do this to me. Did I do something wrong before she left for work? Did I forget to say happy birthday to her again this morning? Did I forget to tell her I loved her when she was about to leave?

No. I told her. I told her everything.

And she told me she loved me too—that she couldn’t wait to see me tonight when she got off of work.

I keep racking and racking my brain for answers, for some kind of fucking clues. But there’s none that aren’t obvious. None. And if she’s not hurt and she’s not at work, then why wouldn’t she have already come home to me—or at least called me to tell me that she’s safe and where she is? She knows I would worry about her if I expected her to be home, and it’s already been hours past that time she was supposed to be here. She knows I love her…she has to know. And there’s no way she could be angry at me…she couldn’t be. So why doesn’t she care if I’m worried about her or not?

The only possible explanation that I can think of is that somehow, she suddenly began to hate me within the last 12 hours of the day.

But that’s impossible, right?

I mean…unless.

Unless...no.

I...there’s no way.

She couldn’t have…

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I gulp down the lump in my throat, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. My fingers numbly dial her number and I wait in pure agony for an answer. My heart sinks to the depths of my insides when I hear her finally say, “Hello?”

I try to keep my voice as calm as I possibly can in this very moment of time, but it’s nearly fucking impossible to do when I’m feeling how I’m feeling right now. “Is she with you?” I choke out, not even bothering with the basics.

I just need to know. I need to know…

“Justin, is that you?” she asks me through the phone. “What the hell are you even talking about right now?”

My voice comes out weak. I force myself to repeat it again, “Is she—is she with you?”

“What? Who is ‘she’ supposed to be? You’re talking about Chloe?”

“You know who I’m fucking talking about,” I suddenly snap, angrily screaming into the phone. My nerves are going haywire. I can’t take her fucking mind games on top of everything else right now. I just need to know where Chloe is at, so I can try and repair the damage that’s most likely already been done by now. “Where the fuck is she at, Elise! Tell me!”

“You know, even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell your pathetic ass the answer to that one, Justin,” Elise answers me, dryly.

I grit my jaw in despair.

Her voice is cold as ice, as she continues on, “But I haven’t seen her even once today—and you’re an asshole— but I’m sure you knew that one already. So do me a huge favor Justin…don’t ever fucking yell at me…or ever fucking call me again for that matter. I have nothing more left to say to you, so goodbye, you fucking jackass.”

The line goes dead and I drop my phone on top of the table, burying my head into my hands with defeat. I don’t know where the hell Chloe is right now—but I do know that no matter what, I’ll just hug her and hug and hug her until she can’t breathe anymore—if and whenever I get the chance to hold her again, that is.

{Chloe}

“Hey Elise.”

“Come in, come in,” she says with a fake accent, her huge smile in tact.

My insides do a flip flop as I grin, sidestepping her and then entering into her apartment. I just know my hands are probably shaking with nerves right now, and for damn good reason, mind you.

You see, Elise came by the café and begged for me to come by and pick up this huge birthday surprise she has for me tonight whenever my shift was over. So naturally, I agreed, with a smidgen of reluctance on my part of course. I mean, what else was I supposed to say to her but yes, sure I’ll come? No, I can’t come, because I’ve been doing a good job of ignoring you lately, so don’t go and fuck this streak up for me on my birthday now, okay Elise?

Yeah, right…I didn’t think so.

I couldn’t possibly.

So, Justin is waiting for me at home, and I’m going to be there…eventually. If he has to wait a little while longer than originally planned, then so be it. I’ll just say my shift lasted over time, or something. I mean, I’ll come up with a story that’s believable. It’s all good…

“I want you to open up your gift!” Elise cheerily announces, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I smile, briefly wondering inside my head how we ended up in her living room already. I take a seat on the pristine beige couch, nervously crossing my legs. “Aww, Elise. You really shouldn’t have—but what’d ya get me?” I finish off, jokingly.

She holds up one finger, signaling a short return. I laugh to myself as she runs off, disappearing into another room. When she comes back, she practically bounces into the room, dangling a crisp, white envelope in front of my face. “Ahem…here you go,” she singly chirps at me.

I smile and take it into my hand, sliding a finger under the seal. Fully expecting a sweet birthday card, I pull out the contents and almost pass out right then and there. The thin paper trembles within my grasp and my wide eyes meet hers with despair.

Jesus Christ. I- I know what this is.

And this—this isn’t good.

This isn’t just some lousy birthday present.

This is—it’s a check for ‘my services’.



****



He called looking for me.

I was supposed to be home hours ago.

Why did he even fucking bother?

Elise stops at another red light, and I hold back the urge to break down into sobs again. “Are you okay?” she whispers for the thousandth time tonight.

Am I okay?

Let’s think together here…

One minute, you’re enjoying your 21st birthday, thinking you’re blissfully in love and all else is just great and dandy. Then, you go see a friend you hadn’t seen in a while and you try to tell her that you can’t help her anymore because you love him and he loves you, too. Your friend sadly laughs at you, explaining how she didn’t want to have to tell you this huge thing she’s been keeping from you, but now it seems you’ve left her no choice. Apparently what she’s been hiding could in fact be considered huge. I mean, the fact that you’re a fucking bet is pretty god dammed significant, right?

So am I okay?

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

Yeah, sure; I’m fine. And everything is just fucking great in my life right now.

Yup.

Happy Birthday to me.



****



I don’t know quite how to react as I feel Justin’s arms wrapping me up in a tight embrace. He lets out a relieved breath of air against my skin. “Chloe,” he says in my ear, “Jesus, baby, I was so worried about you.”

Was he really worried?

My brain insecurely shouts the inquiry, and I almost would like to cry with sorrow because of it. I wish I didn’t have to question his word right now. I wish this wasn’t happening to us. If we could just go back to yesterday, then I would be so sure about what he said. I would know without a doubt in my mind that he was telling the truth, that he really cared. And now…well now, everything is fucked up beyond belief.

“You’re shaking,” Justin whispers, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

His voice sounds concerned. At least, I think it does. But maybe it’s just in my head, or maybe it’s just another part of his act? I feel like I’m not sure of anything anymore, and it’s all starting to drive me crazy. I’m on the brink of insanity here.

I thought I could handle this. When I left Elise’s house, I was sure I would be okay. I would come in here, tell him I knew about his stupid little charade, and then I would tell him he could burn in hell for all I care. Obviously, I wasn’t anticipating the overwhelming emotions I’d have thrown at me when I saw him again.

Justin suddenly pulls back enough so that he can look down into my eyes. His hand delicately smoothes over my cheek, his face contorted with distress. “Baby, I’m worried. Are you okay? Where were you at tonight? Did something happen? Say something to me.”

I blink my eyes at all of his frantic questions, fighting back the urge to cry. It’s greater than ever now. I mean, what should I do? A part of me wants to just break down and pretend that everything is okay. I want to let him comfort me, and I want to let myself believe that he really does love me.

But I can’t do that, right?

No, of course I can’t.

“Justin,” I say, pushing against his chest and wiggling myself away from him. “Stop.”

His eyes widen, and he even has the nerve to look somewhat hurt by my actions. “What’s going on?” Justin asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

Shaking my head at him, I protectively cross my arms over my chest, willing myself to be courageous. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I begin to explain. “I- I was at Elise’s and she told me some stuff.”

Justin’s eyes close as if he’s in a great deal of pain. He whispers under his breath, “Oh my God…I knew it.”

“Knew what?” I snap out loud.

His blue eyes pop open again, and he looks at me with the most pathetically apologetic gaze ever directed towards me before in my life. “Please, just let me—I can explain everything.”

Yeah right.

I should’ve known better. I should’ve known he’d react like this. Of course he has an explanation all ready in case I ever found out. He’s a fucking mastermind at this game, isn’t he?

“There’s really nothing for you to explain to me right now, Justin,” I answer him coldly. “She told me about it…and I’m cool with it.”

“You—you’re cool with it?” he stutters. “Chloe, I—”

“Look, I think we both owe each other an apology here,” I continue as if I had this all planned out and it means nothing for me to say, “Or we could both just take our slightly bruised egos here as punishment enough and save ourselves the trouble of the insincere declarations for each other.”

Justin bites his lip, shaking his head at me. He looks pale. He looks confused. And he looks like he wants to cry. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells me. “I’m not sure what she told you, but there’s something I have to tell you…”

Oh God. It’s worse than I thought. He’s better than I ever imagined. I admit I’ve been blind to it all this time, but I mean, does he really think I’m this dumb? That he can just pretend like he’s going to take the high road and tell me the truth right now because he loves me?

Surprise, I’m not going to let that happen. “She told me about your bet,” I snap, interrupting him. I cross my arms over my chest, “Was that what you wanted to tell me?”

He solemnly bows his head, taking a sudden interest to the floor. Barely above a whisper, he says, “I’m sorry.” Then he swiftly lifts his head, raising his eyes to my level once more.

Oh, good move. His pleading gaze is almost too sickening for me to bear. This seems more sincere of him though, to be looking at me like this right now, now doesn’t it?

“I should have told you, but….” He lets out a shaky breath, “I-I’m just….so, so sorry.”

“Stop,” I demand, holding up my hand as signal to my word. I have to be strong right now. I can’t allow him to fuck with my head anymore than he already has a this point. I won’t be listening to more of his lies, naively thinking them as truth.

His face is looking more confused than ever. My voice is flat as I explain to him, “Before you say anything else, there’s something you should know, too.” I take a deep breath. “It might change whatever you have to say.”

I look at his worried face, feeling the urge to throw up. Oh God, am I really going to do this? I mean, what if I’m making a huge mistake? What if I’m not? It doesn’t matter. I’ve made up my mind. If we’re being totally honest here, it’s been a long time coming. So I’m doing this.

Justin catches me off guard, his arm reaching out to touch me. I snap my hand away, taking a step backwards. “Chloe…”

“Don’t touch me.”

He swallows back a reaction. “Chloe,” he whispers. “There’s nothing…”

“The reason I’m with you,” I stubbornly interrupt, my eyes growing heavy with unanticipated tears as I watch him. He’s biting his bottom lip, and his eyes seem glazed over with unshed tears as well. This is so damn hard. I’d give anything to not have to be doing this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice out, “The reason I’m with you is because…” I close my eyes tight, “Is because Elise paid me to do it.”

“What?”

“Elise wanted to get you back. She knew I hated you. She offered me money to get you to fall for me, so I could turn around and hurt you the same way you…”

“You’re lying.”

I blink my eyes, anger rising within my stomach. His ego is so huge. He can’t even fathom that someone could ever beat him at his own game, can he? “Why? Don’t like that you’re not the only one who can play with someone’s mind,” I state more than question, bitterly. “I admit it was disappointing when I found out that I couldn’t really finish the job right tonight. I mean, how could I when you never had a heart to begin with?”

He doesn’t say anything, so I continue, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His silence is killing me. “You know, if you think about it, we both sort of made out well here. I mean, Elise felt sorry for me and gave me my check anyways, and well—we both know you got what you wanted out of me all along.”

His eyes bore into my own, the betrayal a mirror image of my own.

“Congratulations to us, huh?” I finally break the silence when I can’t take looking at him any longer.

“Yeah, congratulations,” Justin slowly replies. Just as I’m about to force a smile, he bitterly adds, “To you.”

“And to you,” I protest.

“No really,” he corrects me. “Congratulations, Chloe. You’re the one who deserves it, not me.”

I smirk weakly, “What makes you sa…”

“Job well-done.” He throws me a spiteful look and turns to leave. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”

Shit. Shit. He’s leaving. That’s what I wanted, right? No. He can’t leave…he just can’t. My insides begin to cry: I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t.

“Justin,” I start in a sudden panic, “Justin, wait.” I struggle to follow his large strides, as he yanks his keys out of his jean pocket and then reaches for the front door.

Oh no, what have I done? “Justin, wait. Where are you going?”

He snaps around, and it’s so quick and so violent, it reminds me of that part in The Exorcist where her head spins. He looks so upset. A tear slides down his cheek. “Stay the fuck away from me, Chloe!” he yells.

I take a step back at his angry outburst, swallowing the tight lump in my throat. I don’t know what to say, and even if I did, I don’t have the time. He just slammed the door and walked out…leaving me alone…alone.

Without him and with my broken heart instead. My hand comes up, covers my mouth, holding in the sobs.

After a while of stark silence among my cries, I decide that maybe what I need right now is a glass of cold water to calm my nerves.

So I walk into the kitchen, taking in the dinner table. It’s beautifully set and there are two candles, their flames almost burnt. I helplessly lean over, forcing the air out of my lungs as I blow them both to a finish.

Just like me and Justin.

{Justin}

My back is facing the doorway, and I don’t even have to turn around to know that she’s here now. I can feel her presence from somewhere behind me, as I continue to hastily shove clothes inside my bag. “Leave,” I order with out turning around, leaving her no time to do so much as knock.

“We need to talk,” Chloe tells me.

“No, we really don’t,” I snap, spinning around to face her for the first time. She’s standing close to the door, a meek expression gracing her face. I’ve kept away from the apartment for two days since everything happened, and I thought I’d given myself enough time to cool down; I thought I could at least face her if I had to when I came home to get some clean clothes to wear. But seeing her right now has caused all of my anger to rise up onto the surface again. “Just get out. I’ll be gone in a little while, and I’d like it if you stayed out of my way until then,” I tell her, harshly.

Chloe noticeably takes a deep breath before she speaks to me again, “Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but can we just talk about this at least? Did you get any of my phone calls? I’ve been really worried about…”

“Shouldn’t you be out shopping—spending all of your precious money or something?” I roll my eyes as I rudely interrupt her. I don’t bother to gauge her reaction while I turn around and get back to my packing. Hopefully she’ll leave me the fu.ck alone now.

“Ok, I deserved that,” she states, her footsteps growing nearer as she speaks, “But you’re being such a hypocrite right now, Justin. You can at least admit that I’m not the only bad guy here, because you have to know I’m not.”

I choose not to answer her, instead heading into my closet and pulling out two pairs of jeans. I return to where I’d been before, throwing the denim onto my mattress and taking a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She looks distracted all of the sudden, and I follow my gaze to where hers is fixated, gritting my jaw in the meanwhile.

I realize she’s about to bend down and start picking up the broken pieces. This pisses me off more than I imagine it should. I angrily find another reason to speak again. “Don’t touch it,” I order.

“How did it…did you break it?” she slowly asks me, having the audacity to sound hurt as she does so.

I look down at the floor. Broken shards of glass from a picture frame that once neatly held a photo of the two of us together on my nightstand are now scattered along the carpet. “Obviously it didn’t break by itself,” I snap once again. “Didn’t I tell you to go away?”

She stubbornly answers me, “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Then I guess you’ll be here a lot longer than I will,” I reply, scathingly. I step to the side when I feel her hand reach out and touch at my upper arm area.

“Will you just stop? I can’t believe you’re treating me like this.”

I don’t say anything in response. It seems to be the only easy way out of this conversation between us.

“I don’t know if you listened to my messages or not,” her voice slightly cracks, “but I wanted you to know that—that I didn’t mean a lot of the things I—“ Chloe stops and I watch her as she shakes her head, looking down at the carpet with defeat. She tries again with out looking up this time, “I guess, first…well I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

My face hardens. “I don’t care.”

“Well, I do care…I care about you, Justin.” Chloe slides between me and my bed mattress, staring me in the face. “I care about you so much.”

“You think that fixes anything?” I ask her, sharply.

She frowns. “Maybe not--but doesn’t it at least mean something to you—anything at all?”

For the longest time, I stare down at her without speaking a word. Until the point where she seems ready to break down, cry right here in front of me. I guess I’ll always be able to beat her at this one thing, won’t I? She never was good at the staring game.

“Don’t you dare fu.cking cry right now,” I tell her, angry at the nagging guilt within the pit of my stomach upon seeing her like this.

Her voice sounds wobbly with unshed tears, “Does that mean anything to you?” she repeats.

I don’t care what she sounds like. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for this.“I swear to God, Chloe, if you’re gonna cry right now…”

“Does that mean anything to you?!” Chloe screams the same question again, shoving me backwards by the chest when we’ve gotten so close our noses are almost touching.

I’m shell-shocked by the push for a moment, but I quickly recover. I know enough by now to realize I shouldn’t provoke her anymore than I already have today. But @#%$ it. I don’t give a damn. I don’t care anymore.

“You don’t mean sh.it to me,” I lie to her, another pang of guilt when she winces. “And you know what else?” I sneer. “I just wanted you to know…”

Why the fu.ck do I feel like the monster here? This is her fu.cking fault. She’s the one who betrayed me. At least my feelings were honest the whole time. I wish I could say the same for this lousy bi.tch.

“What?” she finally yells. “You just wanted me to know what?!”

This is it. As mean as it may be, I’m going to say this to her. Besides, it’s too late to turn back now, ain’t it? “…if I would have known how easy you were, I never would have made the stupid @#%$ bet in the first place.” I gulp. “Would of saved me a lot of time and trouble to write a check, you know?”

“What are you trying to say?”

I force myself to smirk. With a shrug, I sate, “If the shoe fits.”

Chloe bites her lip, shaking her head sadly. She looks at the floor for a moment, before she wipes at her face. She shoves past my shoulder, quickly heading for the door. I watch as she reaches for the door knob and my stomach slightly churns at the site.

“Oh yeah. By the way,” Chloe starts lowly, her back still facing me as she speaks. “One more thing.” And before she fully leaves my room, she turns back around and looks my way. Her voice growing in volume and strength and looking into my eyes, she says, “Fu.ck you, Justin.”

I shrug my shoulders, gritting my jaw to stop the waterworks. Sucking back a sniffle through my nose, I simply answer, “I already did that, remember?"

* * *

{Chloe}

I slam his door and head towards my own room, covering my mouth with my hand to stifle my cries. I flop down into my bed and lay my head on the pillow, staring at the wall as I weep.

I’m such a fu.cking idiot.

Justin hasn’t been home for two days and I don’t know how many times I called his cell phone to apologize. I started thinking more clearly about things when I looked past my hurt and anger. And I thought we could maybe work through this and maybe we were both just overreacting. It was just traumatic to find out about such a fu.cked up situation, but we could both get over it since we loved each other….

Obviously fu.cking not.

He just made it pretty clear that he wants nothing to do me and that he hates my guts. I wish I hated him, too.

But I wonder where he’s been and where he’s going? Has he been okay? Is he eating well? And if he’s not staying here, where is he going to stay? Who knows when he’ll come back again—when I’ll even get to see him again?

I hear his bedroom door shut and I cry into my pillow harder than ever.

I miss him.

I really miss him.


* * *

{Justin}

I don’t know how long I’ve stood in front of her bedroom door just listening to her, but I’ve finally brought myself to knock in the last few seconds. Now I’m patiently waiting for a response. Finally, a weak, “Come in” reverberates through out my ears.

I nervously twist the handle, prepping myself inside of my head not to get angry again, to let my anger to take control. Because I really don’t want to say anything I’ll regret—I don’t want to hurt her anymore than I already have. I step inside and find her crumpled position on her bed. I wish I could hug her. Instead, I gulp, watching her sit up.

She stares at me blankly.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I nod my head at her and apprehensively lick my lips. I open my mouth up to speak, but nothing seems to come out. Nothing at all. What the hell is wrong with me?

Chloe looks down at her hands; a frown is on her pretty face. It’s as though there’s a mutual understanding that all the fighting is over. All the fight is gone from within her—I can see it just by standing here and watching her. She’s broken, has nothing left to say to convince me of.

And God, I don’t know. This makes me really sad. I’m talking almost to the point of tears sad. When she finally looks up at me again and whispers, “You’re not coming back, are you?” I’d really just like to cry instead of confirming her question.

Stepping further into the room, I cautiously take a seat on the bed next to her slumped figure. It shifts with the weight of my body, as I hold the silver key to our apartment out with an open hand in silent response. “I was wondering if you could give this to him for me,” I softly answer her. “I- I don’t know when I’ll be back again to get the rest of my stuff.”

“Oh,” she whispers.

A tear slides down her cheek, damn near breaking my heart all over again. No, no, no. I’m not going to reach out and hold her. And no, no, no, I won’t care about her anymore, either. I won’t…

“Please don’t do this, Justin,” she cries, at last. Before I can stop her, she scoots over and wraps her arms around my neck, burying herself against my upper body. “Please don’t leave me,” I vaguely hear, as she shakes atop me with whimpers. “I don’t want to lose you. We can get through this. If you’ll just…” She stops short, lifting up and glancing at my arms that have remained stiffly in place. Her chin trembles before she’s concealing her face in her hands and quietly sobbing into them.

I don’t know what to say. Of course I hate seeing her cry. I do still love her. I love that girl. And I feel bad—l feel like complete @#%$—but it has to be this way. I can’t deal. Everything is just too @#%$ up with us anymore. Or maybe the real problem is that it always has been too @#%$ up with us, and all along, from the very start.

“I love you,” Chloe weakly whispers, finally breaking us back into conversation. Timidly, she asks, “Don’t you love me too?”

I still don’t know what to say. So I opt for the same ole’ same ole’—I say nothing at all.

And then she seems to cry even harder. “Don’t you, Justin?” Chloe asks me again.

I swallow, my Adams apple straining in my throat with the pressure of it all. What does she expect me to say? Yes? As if it even matters? Well, guess what. It doesn’t. Love isn’t always the @#%$ answer. In fact, sometimes it’s the problem.

“I did,” I admit, at last.

What? Don’t you look at me like that.

How many times do I have to repeat myself? I’m not the bad guy here...so what if I’m sort of lying to her?

“You did?” Chloe asks. Her voice is lifeless, “Meaning that you don’t anymore.”

“I’m…” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

I am. I really am so damn sorry. I hate seeing her look broken like she does now.

She sadly whispers out a weak protest, “But I love you.”

I look down at my lap. “I know,” is all I can think of to say back to her. I just--I have got to leave. I really have to, but my feet won’t seem to move in sync with my head, and it feels like I’m stuck here to her bed or something.

I don’t know when or how, but finally, I manage to push my body up and head for the exit wordlessly. I force myself not to take one glance at her as I do so, and I momentarily want to curse her when I hear her sweet voice calling out to me again, just before I have the chance to leave, “Justin?”

I pause in mid-step, slowly reaching my hand out to the doorknob. “Y

“You don’t have to go,” she tells me. “I mean—I’ll—I’ll be the one to move out.”

This causes me to spin in a circle. I automatically protest her offer, “Chloe, you don’t…”

“You’re only leaving because you don’t want to be near me,” Chloe reasons gently. “You lived here a lot longer—way before I came around—so I should be the one to go,” she finishes off, sadly.

“You’re staying,” I shake my head with adamancy.

“Just—.”

Holding my hand up in the air, “I can’t live here anymore, okay?!” I tell her. “I don’t want to have to be reminded of you every-fu.ckin’-day!” I loudly snap.

Dammit--that came out a lot harsher than I meant for it to come out. Chloe bites her lip, and I shake my head to myself, getting ready to leave. I can never do anything @#%$ right, can I?

“Justin!” her voice interrupts me on my way out once more.

Jesus! How much more can she possibly take? It’s almost as if she enjoys this @#%$. Maybe she can see my torture…the pain she causes me. Damn her. Damn her for ruining everything and then sounding all innocent, looking at me the way she does. “What Chloe?” I demand, harshly. So much for me being nice to her. I guess being mean is the only way I can get rid of her.

“I’ll miss you. I mean…” She pauses.

Damn it. I hate her. And it’s all her fault she misses me, anyways. It’s her fault we’re over. I don’t feel sorry for her. Damn…it.

“…I mean…you’re my best friend. I mean, I guess, well, you were,” Chloe stutters out.

I close my eyes, reaching for the doorknob. I let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” she squeaks.

I nod my head, signaling the end of this awkward conversation. I open the door and I force my feet forwards, finally ready to leave this time. For real. But her voice predictably stops me before that can happen; she really does want to torture me, doesn’t she?

“I really love-d you. I just...”

Still, I don’t bother turning around, as I wait for her to continue. I wish she’d just stop. I stand here for a few seconds, waiting in the silence. Then finally, she changes her approach, and asks, “Justin?”

Should I even bother to answer this time? I mean, maybe I should turn around and…

“Take care of you,” she whispers, at last.

With that said, I realize she’s finally done. I realize it’s time for me to go. And so I do just that: I leave, and this time, I’m never turning back.


* * *

{Chloe}

A few hours later, I realize that he’s not coming back. He’s really not going to come back. I just laid here in my bed, thinking maybe he’d change his mind and turn around. But as the minutes have slowly ticked away, I’ve slowly come to accept his absence for good. Who knows when I’ll see Justin Timberlake again?

So I decide to go into his room instead of wishing for his return. I’ll just sleep in there tonight. It’s the closet I’ll be able to get to him, anyways.

Slipping out of my own bed, I walk my path to Justin’s cracked door and step inside. It’s not exactly clean, a little emptier in fact, but then again, when did he ever have it perfectly tidy… unless I @#%$ at him for it? A soft giggle emits my throat, as I picture his annoyed face when I used to call him a sloppy pig. He would get so riled up over the littlest of things.

Shaking my head, I walk inside and crouch down to start and pick at the broken shards of glass Justin wouldn’t allow me to touch earlier. With a few pieces in my hand, I lean over to the wastebasket under his night stand and pull it out. I gasp when I see what’s inside, dropping the glass right back onto the carpet before I ever get to properly do away with it.

Inside, he’s ripped the pages of the notebook he made for me with all the little poems and pictures he did to make up for our fight. I lift the battered book out of the basket, falling backwards onto my butt and sadly flipping through the destroyed pages. Things couldn’t get much worse than this. I really don’t think they could, anyways.

But then I dump the trash can onto the floor next to see what else he’s gotten rid of, and find something that is much worse. Much, much worse actually. More pictures of us, ones he’s taken off his wall and ripped apart and….and an envelope with my name on it. It’s what’s inside that makes me break down again though: Two plane tickets. Tickets for us to go to New York this summer together. Tickets he was going to give me as a gift, with a note that says, “Happy Birthday, baby. This is going to be the best summer ever. I love you. – Justin”

Here I thought I had no more tears left to cry, at least not after all the ones I’ve shed lately. But apparently I thought wrong, because the damn note is growing blurry to my vision. And apparently, this heart that I had thought was so unbreakable of mine, really was the one in danger all along.

I can’t help but cry. This is all so messed up. For once in my life, I don’t know how I’m going to put myself back together to that perfect girl I’m always trying to be. How will I even function with out him?

I won’t.

I guess I’ve really fucked everything up, haven’t I?

{Justin}

“Dude, what the hell is this?”

Popping another chip into my mouth, I acknowledge my friends sudden presence with a scowl. He conveniently planted himself right in front of the movie I was watching on TBS, a look of disgust on his face. “Move,” I state, simply ignoring his inquiry all together.

“Look at yourself,” Darnell counters, turning around and shutting the television off. “You’re watching You’ve Got Mail and eating junk food at four in the afternoon. What are you? Some premenstrual @#%$?” he asks, with revulsion. “Get your lazy ass up off my couch.”

“I’d rather not,” I contend.

“Did you even go to class today?”

I take a swig of my beer and then stick it back down onto the coffee table. “Nope.”

“When’s the last time you showered?”

I let out a loud belch and then shrug my shoulders. “Dunno.”

Darnell comes over and grabs the bag of potato chips off my lap, smacking the backside of my head with his free hand. “What the hell is wrong with you man?” I rub the back of my head with an angry glare. “What the fu.ck was that?”

“This is my apartment and you’re staying here rent free as of now,” he informs. “If things are gonna continue this way, you’re going to stop being a pu.ssy. Look what you’ve been reduced to,” he continues, holding his hands out as if displaying the room for an audience. “Chick flicks and a fat ass?”

“I don’t have a fat ass…” I pause. “…bi.tch.”

“Get in the shower now!” Darnell sternly tells me.

“Why should I?”

“You mean why should you take a shower besides for the fact that you smell like you live in a trash can?” He smirks when I flip him off. “Because we’re going out tonight, you pu.ssy. That’s why.”

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning further into the couch, my jaw set stubbornly. “No.”

“No you won’t shower?” He ponders, shrugging his shoulders. “Alright, but I don’t think the ladies are going to appreciate…”

“I’m not going out,” I correct him.

“Don’t make me call Trace over to help beat you,” he immediately responds. “I said we’re going out and we’re going to meet hot chicks, so go get ready.”

“What’s the point?” I scoff. “None of them are her.”

“I talked to Lisa tonight,” Darnell informs me out of nowhere. “She said she and Chloe are going to some party tonight.”

My shoulders tense at his words, my curiosity peaking at just the slightest mention of her name. “She’s going out?” I repeat with a hint of disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, man,” he confirms. “I guess she’s been pretty down lately and wanted to go out and have a good time for a change. Well, that’s what Lisa said anyways.”

“You’re just saying that.” I shake my head, not willing to believe it.

“Look,” Darnell starts. “Chloe and you aren’t together anymore. You made your decision, right?”

“So?”

“So now it’s time to move on,” he says, as if it’s the biggest discovery of the year or something.

I lean over and pick up my beer, taking another gulp. “I’d rather sit here and die, thanks.”

“Alright,” Darnell shrugs. “Sit and be a bum while Chloe’s out living it up. I tried to be a good friend and get you out of the house, but if you insist on…”

Living it up? She’s living it up? He’s right. Fu.ck that sh.it. If she’s out, then I’m sure as hell not gonna sit around pining after her like some loser. What have I been thinking, anyways? Chloe and I are over. And that’s a fact I need to get used to.

Jumping up from the couch, I announce, “I’m getting in the shower.”

* * *

“Wuz up baby girl?” I sit down on the couch besides the woman I just met tonight, slinging an arm over her tiny frame and smoothly resting it there. She’s not exactly wifey material, but whatever. I mean, she’s someone to pass the time away with and help keep me distracted at this boring party. I lean into her and she does the same, sending all the right signals to let me know she’s digging this too. We’re all nice and cozy now.

And damn, she is fine. Her smile is adorable and she’s got a great rack. I tear my eyes from her cleavage, bringing it back up to her face again. God, I love blondes. Blondes are my type, you know? Definitely not brunettes—brunettes like Chloe for example—okay, so not thinking about her right now.

After all, I’ve got a beautiful woman who’s interested in me right in from of my eyes. So obviously, I need to focus my attention on other things. Other things like @#%$ the hell outta this hot ass chick. Which I definitely can make happen by the end of the night; if I even want to do her that is.

Smirking confidently, I hand over the Cosmopolitan I had just got up to retrieve a few minutes earlier. “Here you go gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” she smiles. She takes a small sip of the drink, and then coquettishly runs a fingertip over my forearm. “You’re so sweet.”

“Mmm,” I lick my lips, raising an eyebrow at her. “Not half as sweet as I bet you taste,” I flirt right back.

“Yeah?” She giggles.

“Yup.”

She leans down and places her cup on the floor, grabbing onto the collar of my polo once she’s returned to my side. Hell yeah. She’s about to kiss me.

Yup.

Score one for Timberlake tonight.

***

{Chloe}

“I need another shot,” I mutter, my eyes drifting back towards his direction. I can’t believe this. I can’t @#%$ believe this. For the first time in a while, I felt like going out and actually doing something fun. Something to get my mind off of him. I just wanted to start over with my life. And what do I get in return? I end up at the same party, watching him with another girl.

Of course, he has his hands all over some blonde @#%$ who just can’t seem to keep her own hands off of him either. She keeps touching his arm and giggling and being a big @#%$ all together. Kind of reminds me of that @#%$ Christianne.

God, I don’t even know why I’m standing here and watching this.

Next thing I know, I see her grab onto his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Covering a hand over my mouth, I fight the urge to vomit as I go off in search for another drink. Either that or I find Lisa and curse her for bringing me to this damn party when she must have known that Justin would be here.

I can’t believe I thought he might actually miss me. I’m such an idiot.

“More vodka?” a male voice unexpectedly proffers.

I realize I’m standing in front of the drink table and I nod my head graciously. At least something is going right. “Please.” I hold my cup out and he pours me another shot. Out of the corner of my eyes, I suddenly spot Lisa, hanging off Darnell’s arm none-the-less. Jesus, I want to kill her. Is there no such thing as human decency these days? “Thanks,” I say, heading off in their direction.

Lisa pulls away from Darnell when she sees me coming, walking over and wrapping an arm around me. “Hey girly. I thought I lost you there for a sec.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Hi Darnell,” I greet.

He nods politely. “Hey Chloe. You look great tonight.”

“Thanks.” I take my shot and gulp it down, glancing at Lisa when I’m done. It’s almost as if she knows what I want to say to her. She begins to explain, “I just found out that Justin is here with Darnell. I’m really sorry. I had no idea he was coming with.” She turns her gaze to Darnell disapprovingly and he gives a guilty shrug. “If you want to go somewhere else, I totally understand.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” I ask, forcing my voice to sound cheerful.

“Well, I mean….I didn’t know if you were worried about running into him or whatever. I just don’t want you to see him and torture yourself if he’s acting stupid or something. You know how Justin can….get,” she slowly finishes.

I roll my eyes. “Torture myself?” I question with nonchalance. “Over what?” A slight pause for effect. “Him? Please, girl.”

Darnell coughs uncomfortably and Lisa looks at me like she pities me even more. I guess my acting skills aren’t academy award fu.ckin’ winning after all. For some reason, I still feel the need to continue and justify my whole not caring attitude anyways. "I've been over him,” I easily lie, desperate to get away from their unnerving gazes. Grasping at straws, I hurriedly continue, “And I think I just noticed someone over there, who looks like fun. I think he smiled at me. So yeah. I’m gonna go say hi."

“Well—okay,” she answers, almost confusedly, “but make sure you check back in with me soon!”

“Yeah, sure,” I nod. “See ya two later?”

“See ya,” Darnell says.

“Good luck!” Lisa smiles in an encouraging manner that does little to hide her feeling sorry for me.

Adjusting my low-cut dress and making it a point to push out my breast, I smile at them one last time before hurriedly walking off into the crowds in search of both a cute guy and most definitely, another round of vodka.

* * *

{Justin}

“You wanna go somewhere more private?” the soft feminine whisper rings throughout my ears, a small hand rubbing up and down my chest in a suggestive manner.

Jesus. I knew I could have her when she first kissed me, but couldn’t she make this a little more difficult? I mean, she’s practically ready to fu.ck right here on the couch and we’ve barely just met. I sigh, feeling her lips briefly press against my own once again, and then again. “Justin?” she finally whispers in question.

Do I want to go somewhere more private? Not particularly. But ah, well...fu.ck it. What do I have to lose anyways? “Yeah--let’s get out of here,” I breathe out, at last.

She lets out an appreciate giggle, climbing away from me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I didn’t ask, you dumb hoe. “Uhuh. Can we head to your place? I’ll drive?” I ask, rolling my shoulders back as I stand up and stretch my body out.

“Sure. Just let me tell my girls real quick.” Grabbing hold of my hand, she begins leading me through the hustle and bustle of the party. She smiles and waves at a few people who greet her in recognition, and I roll my eyes when she stops and makes small talk with one of them. I don’t have time for all of this. I really don’t.

Glancing around the room in boredom, I briefly hear her introducing me to someone as my eyes land on something that causes me to do a double take. It’s almost like déjà vu minus the whole making out thing and that prick Alex. Instead, I find my girl, (okay so I know she’s not my girl anymore, fu.ck off,) pressed up against some steroid popping clown in conversation. My better judgment tells me to just turn away and leave it alone, but since when do I ever listen to what I should do anyways?

Besides, Chloe has a drink in her hand and she looks amazing. She’s wearing this short, tight black dress and I’d like to cut the dude’s eyeballs out for the way he’s checking her out in it. She’s not a big drinker and if he thinks he’s gonna get anywhere with her tonight and take advantage of her perfect, sexy body—well, he’s got another thing coming—because it’ll be over my dead fu.cking body that happens.

I almost forgot about the blonde I’d been planning to fu.ck until she lets out a small gasp, reminding me she’s still holding onto my hand as I hurriedly pull away in the opposite direction. “Whoa—what are we doing?” she laughs, nervously.

“I need to talk to someone real quickly,” I explain with mild annoyance underlying my tone of voice.

Chloe’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing in anger as I approach her general area. I smirk at her once I’m finally standing before them, gently shoving the @#%$ I’ve dragged over here forwards a little bit. “Chloe? Amazing finding you here. Thought you hated parties—but then again—you do tend to hide things,” I state sarcastically. “This is Dawn, by the way.”

“Hollie.”

“What?”

“My name is Hollie.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

“Great. Nice to meet you Hollie. And what do you want, Justin?” Chloe interjects, bitterly.

Ignoring her comment, I ask the muscle guy standing next to her, “Baseball season already buddy?”

Chloe frowns, stepping into the conversation again before he gets a chance to respond. “Why do you always have to be such a fu.cking jerk?”

I innocently hold my hands up. “Hey, don't be mad at me because your boyfriend shoots up and his di.ck has probably shrunk up so much that he pees on his balls now." I blink my eyes after I say that, thinking about just how stupid and immature and well—stupid that came out sounding. It sounded a lot better running through my head, I swear. Sh.it, I just might be getting my ass kicked in mere seconds for that one. I worriedly look over at the guy, relieved to find a blank expression on his face. He looks utterly confused at the moment. Thank God. He’s a moron.

"First off he's not my boyfriend…and even if he was...it wouldn't take much for him to be bigger than you,” Chloe tells me. I feel my face burn in anger, as she reaches out and touches Hollie’s arm. “You might want to get a magnifying glass to find his di.ck, mmkay sweetie? Just a word of advice, you know.”

Hollie noticeably gasps, steroid poster boy looking back and fourth between everybody. “Huh?” he asks.

I clench my fists in anger, staring Chloe down with a look of irritation. “Hahaha...hilarious,” I spit out. “You weren't saying that sh.it when you were riding this di.ck though.” I clench my teeth, trying to hold myself back from saying things I don’t necessarily mean. “Bi.tch.”

“Whatever.”

“I gotta admit you definitely picked a keeper, Chlo. Just too bad they don't make steroids for the brain. Because Muscle Man Randy Dumbass over here clearly has worked out every muscle but that one."

“Look at your date!” She responds defensively.

“You think I care about that sl.ut?!”

Hollie takes it upon herself to kick me in the shin with her heel at that very second, and I realize I’ve opened my mouth one too many times for tonight. I lean over in pain, rubbing at my leg as she storms off yelling out, “He is an @#%$!”

“Don’t I know it,” Chloe mutters, scowling at me. “I’m sorry about him,” she tells steroid guy, who in turn shrugs his shoulders.

Standing up straight again, I shake my head, wondering where the hell this all went wrong. Sometimes I just really let my anger get way too out of control. And now I’ve made a @#%$ fool of myself and worst of all—accomplished nothing with her. Defeated, I decide to suck up what little pride I have left and end this entire encounter. “You two have a great night.”

I turn around to leave, faintly hearing him ask her, “Wait a minute, did he say I was on steroids?”

* * *

{Chloe}

I run after Justin, slightly stumbling on my way a few times. The alcohol mixed with large crowds of people never did help any, but somehow I manage to make it outside where he’s walking towards his car. I don’t know why I should be the one to follow him, or why I even am, but for some reason I just can’t let him get away with what he just pulled in there.

He wants to act like he’s so much damn better than I am in all of this, like he hasn’t done equally as much @#%$ up @#%$ as I have to him. And I hate it. I really do. I’ve felt like @#%$ for the past few days, and for what? To watch him kiss another girl and then humiliate me in front of a whole bunch of strangers at some party? It pisses me off to no end, but at the same time, I can’t help but still love his @#%$ ass.

“Justin, wait!” I say.

He unlocks his door, turning back to look at me with a frown. “Look it's been a long night, I don't wanna fight anymore,” he tells me. “I know I was a jackass. You know I was jackass. But I'm tired and I just want to go to sleep.”

I look down at my hands nervously. “I didn’t come out here to fight either,” I softly state. I get the courage to look him in the eye, and sadly shrug my shoulders. “I just…I was trying to have a good time and forget about things for once, and then I saw you kissing that girl and I...” I stop short, shrugging my shoulders again. “I don’t know. I guess I just wish I could be like you.”

“Be like me?”

“Not care.”

Justin lets out a loud sigh, leaning his head against his truck and closing his eyes for a moment. “Look, I’m really tired and---”

“Justin, can’t you just talk to me?” I beg him. “God, Justin. We need to talk. I think we should discuss this like adults instead of just running—or fighting like children about it every time.”

He sighs once more. “See, this is exactly what I didn’t want,” he tells me in frustration.

I look at him in confusion, “What is exactly what you didn’t want?”

“This!” He says, gesturing wildly around himself. “Dammit, Chloe. You’re making me crazy. That’s what you women do; you drive men insane with your ‘adult discussions’ about your feelings! Why can’t you just be angry at me and leave it at that? Why do you always have to make me feel like @#%$ about all of this?”

“Justin, I—”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling right now? I’m feeling like carrying my ass to bed, but do you care? Nooo, because you just gotta discuss your damn feelings!” he lectures. “I mean, @#%$! Don’t you understand? It’s not that I don’t care---it’s that I don’t want to care anymore!”

I bite my lip, cursing myself for being such an emotional basket case. I promised myself I wasn’t gonna cry over him anymore, yet I’m standing here and I can already feel the waterworks starting up. I have that familiar tickle in my nose, the tightness in my throat, the heavy eyelids. It’s not fair. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. And it’s not fair. A few tears slide down my cheeks, and I quickly reach up to wipe them away in embarrassment.

Justin runs a hand over his shaved head with another loud sigh once I start to cry. He looks down at the pavement, kicking a few rocks around, muttering a few choice words under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Stop crying.”

I nod my head, realizing he must be thinking how pathetic it is of me to crying like this right now. A small breeze suddenly hits me, and I feel a chill run throughout my body as I cross my arms against my chest to warm myself up. I sniffle a few times and shuffle my feet around, not knowing how to respond to him anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Justin says softly. He adds, “You know how I get cranky when I’m tired though.”

Wiping at my eyes one last time, I glance up at him with a slight smile on my face for the first time since we got out here. “You can be a lil’ @#%$ when you don’t get your sleep.”

He gives me a little smile in return, shrugging his shoulders. “Hey, hey---let’s not get back to the insults. I think we’ve already done enough of that for a week’s worth of Jerry Springer episodes.”

I giggle at him and for a moment we both just stand here in a calm silence. I look up at the stars, and hold myself a little tighter, as I quietly break the silence with something I just can’t stop myself from asking even if maybe I know it’s not something I should say, “So who was she?”

“Who was who?” Justin asks me.

“Don’t play.”

He licks his lips and says, “Nobody.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”

I look up at the stars again. “Good.”

“Yeah,” Justin whispers.

He follows my gaze and we just stand here staring up at the sky for what seems to be a bit of a few lingering moments.

“So who was he?” he finally asks, switching the question up.

I answer the same as him, “Nobody.”

The tiniest hint of a crooked smile touches his face at my answer. “Good,” he says. Finally, he tilts his head to the side, and announces, “I guess I’m gonna get going now.”

“Oh, okay.”

“So I guess I’ll see ya.”

“Yeah.”

He nods his goodbye and just as he’s about to get into his car, I find myself calling out to him before I can even stop myself from doing it, “Justin?” It’s just so hard to watch him walk away from me though. Especially when I don’t know when the next time I’ll get to see him again will be. I notice his heavy sigh, and quickly go onto add, “This isn’t an ‘adult discussion’ about feelings, don’t worry,” I say jokingly. “I-I just wanted to say…” I trail off.

“Say what?” He asks.

I love you. “I just wanted to say…just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Justin doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Is that what you want? For us to do the ‘let’s just be friends’ thing?”

“I guess,” I shrug.

“If that’s what you want,” he tells me, his voice barely above a whisper. “Night Chloe.”

“Goodnight Justin.”

{Chloe}

As I sit here flipping through the channels on TV, I wonder when my life got so boring. Okay, so that’s a lie. I know when it got so boring. It was right about the same time Justin found out about my deal with Elise, dumped me, moved out, and then left me living here with a hostile, rarely existent ex- best friend.  

It was of course then that I realized I had nobody special to me left in all of Chicago. Well, no one who I was on speaking terms with anyways. Sometimes I do find myself wondering how my luck can be so twisted. I have no idea what the answer to that question is, but with this twisted luck of mine, it would only be appropriate to say that there’s not shit on television to watch tonight while I’m in my lonely state.

Yup, I think it’s pretty safe to say that this whole new hanging out by myself thing totally sucks.

I flip through the channels for a while longer before finally settling on one. I sit and try to focus my mind on the screen but watching the evening news just doesn’t seem to hold my attention for too long of a time.  I can’t help but find myself wondering what Justin’s doing right now at this very second in time? Is he watching television, as bored as I am right now? Is he wondering about me too? Maybe he’s sleeping? Or as horrible of an idea this is for me to imagine, is he out with another girl?

Shit, is he even freakin’ alive?

I wish I knew where he was, what was going on in his head. But I can’t bring myself to call him.  I don’t want to be pushy. I’ve tried to salvage our relationship and I’ve made a fool of myself. He’s not ready to trust me and until he makes a move for us to start talking again, I’m going to back off.

 I sigh because in spite of all of this, I can’t help but still miss him terribly. It’s been a week since the whole party fiasco, and although he said we’d be able to be friends again, it doesn’t much feel like we’re friends when he never comes around me or the apartment anymore.

A part of me was really hoping he would come back here to live, but it’s been a week and I just don’t know what’s going to happen anymore. Maybe he’s really serious about living somewhere else and I’ve been stupid thinking he’s gonna actually get over things enough to come back. I don’t even know if he’s told Chris what’s going on; I’ve been too afraid to mention it the few times I’ve been home at the same time as him, and as far as I know, he and Justin haven’t talked since the whole blow out.

The apartment just doesn’t feel the same without them around though, and honestly, something has got to give with this situation. It’s so lonely. ..and dare I say it, I’d probably rather go back to the days where Justin and I used to fight with each other all of the time, Chris breaking up our arguments, then I would like to live like this any longer.

Wallowing in my self-pity with you for the last five minutes has been so delightful, I almost don’t believe it that I’ve been jolted from my thoughts by the knocking of a door. I carefully walk over to the entry to our apartment and look through the peephole, trying to get an idea of who’s here. I honestly have no idea, considering there’s no one I’m expecting to visit.

Good God, it’s him. My heart practically falls into my stomach, as an onslaught of butterflies shake my nerves. He’s here. Justin is here, but why is he here?

That’s the main question running through my mind, along with a sudden concern towards the state of my appearance. But no time to think, he’s waiting. Looking down at myself, I smooth out my top and run my hands through my hair before quickly opening up the door.

I smile at him and move aside so he can come in, no questions asked.

He returns the gesture and walks inside, brushing past me as my eyes follow his tall frame the entire way. Oh my god, he looks so, so good. Not to sound like a little school girl, but damn I’ve missed seeing him. His eyes, his hair, his mouth, his outfit—he’s just perfect.

“Hey,” I finally force myself to greet him as we enter the living room together. “What’s going on?”

Please, please, please let him say he’s here to see me and not just grab an item he left, or something random that will just crush my hopes….

“Well, um…I was in the neighborhood…” He starts off awkwardly, “And I just thought maybe we should hang out. I brought some movies,” he quickly explains, holding up a little plastic baggy from the video store. “Are you busy?”

Is he kidding? Of course I’m not. Oh thank you God for bringing him back into my life. This is such a good sign, he wants to spend time together and he’s not acting weird about it.

“No!” I hurriedly squeak out, almost shocked that this is actually happening. “I mean, I’m not busy. So…yeah,” I bite my lip, hoping that didn’t sound too desperate of me.

 He smiles and nods. “Good, ‘cause I picked out some good ones.”

I highly doubt that’s true; Justin isn’t exactly the greatest when it comes to a stellar choice in movies, but hey, what can ya do? Just being with him will be worth it.

Hell, maybe my luck isn’t so bad after all. I mean, a week and my prayers have been answered. Sort of.

* * *

{Justin}

I don’t know how I ended up here, it just kind of happened. I was sitting at Darnell’s place, drinking beer and watching TV, bored as fuck while he was out and it hit me hard. I miss her. I miss her a lot, and it’s not even just that.  I miss our apartment too. I miss having Chris and Chloe as my roommates, and I miss the days when I didn’t feel like I was imposing on a friend who I know doesn’t have room for me in their place.

I mean, this is where I’ve lived my entire time at college and it’s difficult to adjust to another environment at the end of the year. Even worse, I know I need to make things right with them again, and sometimes that thought is all that weighs down on my mind. It’s just hard and really complicated. And that’s why I’ve been staying away for this long. You know how it is. Sometimes it’s easier to run from your problems than just facing them.

 I’ve had time to cool off though and I’ve done a lot of thinking lately. I realize now more than ever that I don’t want to lose my friendships with them. Things haven’t been perfect but I think I figured out that this is a situation that is worth trying to fix. The semester is almost over and even if Chris decides to get new roommates next year, I don’t want to leave for summer vacation on bad terms with either one of them.

So I’m here because I figured now was as good of time as ever to face the music. I grabbed my keys and here I am almost an hour later, waiting for Chloe as she works inside the kitchen, preparing pop corn and some other snacks for us to eat during our movie watching.

Since she’s left the room, it’s been the first time I’ve been able to take my eyes off of her, because the only way I’ve had the willpower to do so is when I’m not able to see her. I still can’t stop thinking about how good she looks tonight. She looks great. Really great, and that’s why it’s hard to be here too.

It’s hard to go from boyfriend to friend, but I know that’s what’s best for us right now. I just can’t be with her anymore. I can’t be with someone I don’t trust and what’s even worse, as egotistical as this is going to sound, it still digs under my skin to the fucking core that it took making a deal with that bitch Elise to get her to notice me in a good light.

I know how that sounds. It sounds like I’m a big, stupid, hypocritical prick.

Well, I’m not-- and me making that bet with Trace--it’s not the same as what she did to me. It’s not the same, and I don’t care what Chloe says about how much she’s in love with me still. I don’t care if she ripped up that stupid check and didn’t even cash it, or that she thinks what she did shouldn’t matter because she didn’t want to go through with it once she got to know me. 

The truth of the matter is, if you really want to know it, is that when I made that bet with Trace, I didn’t actually want to just sleep with her as some sort of revenge on her. The honest truth is that I liked Chloe from the moment I met her, and for some fucking reason, she was the one who hated me from the get-go.

So what if I was stupid and nervous when she walked in the first day I met her? I was trying to impress my buddies and I whistled at her. Was that a reason to hate me? I never could figure it out. Maybe it wasn’t the smoothest thing to do on a first impression, but the fact that she treated me like shit ever since that day bugged the hell out of me for the longest time and come to think of it, it still bugs me, now more than ever.

It especially pisses me off because I had a crush on her and I was always jealous of her friendship with Chris. I wanted her and when she wasn’t yelling at me, I saw things in her that I admired. She was smart and beautiful and sarcastic as hell. So when Trace challenged me to sleep with her, it was just an excuse to pursue her. I’d psyched myself up to treat her badly in return for so long that it was like an opportunity to try and get her without swallowing all my pride and admitting it was for more than sex.

I’ve gone over it and over it in my head and I can’t get the perception that what she did is so much worse than me out of my mind. Chloe’s intentions were fucked up from the start. She had no reason to hate me and instead of getting to know me, she wanted to hurt me. She wanted to hurt me and so did Elise, and maybe I deserved it, but Elise knew from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for something serious with her, and Chloe should have never…

“I brought you a Coke,” I hear her announce, as she walks into the living room with a bowl of pop corn in her hand and a can of soda in the other. I brush my thoughts aside while she sets the stuff down on the coffee table and tells me she’ll be right back again with the rest of the things.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I offer, standing up and following her into the kitchen.

I guess I could have come in and joined her a while ago, but she had volunteered and I needed a moment to myself. As much as I want everything to be good between us, I have to stop myself from remembering how much she hurt me sometimes ‘cause it just causes me to get pissed all over again. And I don’t want that. It’s time to move on.

“When did you make these?” I ask while glancing at a bag of home baked cookies she has set out on the counter.

“The other day. I was bored.”

“They look good.”

“They are good,” she says. “Have some if you want.”

I grab the cookies and offer a free hand when she holds out another soda and a bag of chips for me to take. “How’s work?” I ask her.

Chloe switches off the light in the kitchen as we head back for the living room, answering on the way, “It’s been good. I’ve been taking a lot of extra shifts lately.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah….did you put in the movie?”

“No not yet.”

She grabs the DVD off the coffee table where I had laid the movies at and I sit down while she goes to put the movie on. This small talk is awkward and I can tell she’s kind of uncomfortable right now, but I don’t know what to say to make things easier. I haven’t talked to her in a week and its obvious there’s certain topics that don’t need to be rehashed at the moment.

Chloe turns around and sighs once she’s put the DVD in, making her way over to the couch and plopping down on the furthest end from where I’m sitting. The food is scattered in a sporadic manner in front of the both of us.  I reach for the pop corn bowl and start munching on it to keep my mouth busy.

“At least you picked out something decent this time,” Chloe tells me, working with the remote when it comes to the main screen of Déjà Vu. “Not to mention, Denzel is hot.”

“I always pick out good movies,” I defend.

She giggles and presses the ‘play’ signal on the screen. “Mmmhmm.”

The opening credits begin to pan out when something in my stomach churns. I can’t act like nothing has happened between us without getting this out in the open. Weird timing, but it’s now or never. “Chloe. Wait a minute. I need to tell you something.”

Her head snaps in my direction and I reach forward to set the pop corn bowl down before turning my eyes on her. Her hair is down and she’s got a thoughtful look on her face as she watches me.  She questions me further, “What is it?”

I don’t know what has compelled my sudden haste of honesty, but I’ve wanted to get this off my chest since the moment I saw her tonight. It’s the reason I came in the first place. Bowing my head, I glance down at the couch before locking my eyes in on hers. “I’ve missed you a lot,” I finally admit to her in a quiet tone.

A soft smile forms on her face, though there’s a solemn look in her eyes. “I miss you every day,” she tells me back.

Scooting a little closer to her on the couch, I reach out and grab the remote from her hand. I pause the movie and then lay the remote down before grabbing her hand in mine. “The thing is…I don’t want to miss you anymore.” I trace my thumb over her knuckles and continue to explain, “And I don’t want to lose you from my life, Chloe. This week has sucked more than you‘ll ever know.  I just…”

Chloe squeezes my hand and takes a noticeable gulp. Her voice is hopeful, “Justin, are you saying…?”

 I realize she might be taking this the wrong way, and so I’m quick to continue with my thoughts, “I’m saying I want things to be normal around here for once. I want us to talk to Chris and tell him everything. And I want you and me…you and I to start over as friends. I know I said that before but I’m ready for that now and I’m hoping maybe you are too.”

The moment the words fall from my lips, Chloe pulls her hand out of my grasp. She looks down at her lap and nods her head slowly. It’s only after a minute later that she finally raises her eyes to meet mine.

“I’d really like that,” she eventually speaks up.

“Are you sure?” I ask her. “I know it’s kind of weird, but I just think…”

“No, no,” she stops me. “Its fine, Justin. I mean, I’m just glad we can be friends again. This is what I’ve hoped for.”

“So we’re friends.”

“As long as you promise not to disappear on me anymore.”

I smile and grab for the remote again. “I can handle that.”

 

** *

Sometime or another, Chloe fell fast asleep on the couch as we were watching the movie. I don’t know when, I just know that she’s sleeping now. She has a tendency to fall asleep during films for some reason though, so I’m not all that surprised.

 

She looks so peaceful that I don’t want to wake her, and so I stretch my legs out before standing up from the couch. I reach my arms over my head with a yawn and turn my head to glance at her over my shoulder.

 

She’s curled herself up into a little ball, her head resting on one of the couch pillows. I figure she’s gonna need a blanket or some kind of warmth if she’s planning on sleeping the entire night through, so I walk over and grab a blanket off one of the living room chairs before draping it over her body.

 

Maybe out of habit, but my hand itches to touch her. I find myself crouching down and smoothing a strand of hair from her face. I lean down and place a slow kiss on her forehead before pulling back to look at her for one more moment.

It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders tonight, and now, I have one more person to make amends with before I can finish out this school year the way I wanted to. It seems like things are falling into place about the right way. I just hope Chris and I’s conversation goes over as smoothly as Chloe and mine did.