My Stupid Mouth
"Dude, I'm done." Justin announced while walking into the living room. Trace looked at him confused.
"Done what?" he mumbled through the sandwich in his mouth. Justin handed him a beer.
"With the bet." Trace laughed and swallowed what was in his mouth.
"Alonsha didn't fall for your bullshit?" he asked before taking a swig of his beer.
"It's not that, man. . ." Justin struggled to explain without exposing him and Alonsha, "I just feel bad about the whole thing."
"So now you have a conscience?" Trace stated accusingly, "It's been almost five months now. Admit it, you lost 'cause Lonnie doesn't want your ass."
"Like I said man, I'm done."
"You can't be done." Trace whined.
"Why not?" Justin took a seat next to him.
"Because the guys are all into this now, and. . ."
"The guys? What guys?"
"You know. . .Mike, Big L, Marty, Chris. . ."
"You told all those guys?" Justin was pissed.
"I told Marty and JC told Chris. . .and L and Mike probably overheard us talking." Justin looked at him. He was so angry, but it wasn't only with Trace, it was with himself too.
"Well, you can tell them that there's no longer a bet." Justin stated firmly.
"But, Jay! There's a lot of money going into this. . ."
"I don't need any money." Justin reasoned, "You win, you get the money. You should be happy." Trace sighed deeply while rolling his eyes.
"I won't win because I told the guys you'd get her." Justin looked at him suspiciously.
"I thought you wanted me to lose."
"I didn't want you to lose, I wanted you to win. I wanted you to get Alonsha so you could be happy." Justin smiled. It was times like these that he appreciated having someone like Trace.
"I have a confession." Traced made a face.
"Confession?"
"You win."
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Justin laughed. Trace was so slow sometimes.
"You win the bet, dumbass." Trace was confused.
"How?" Justin rolled his eyes.
"What do you mean, how?" Justin asked in a 'duh' tone.
"I thought you forfeited."
"No, I wanted to cut the bet off, man." Justin explained, "Alonsha's my. . .She's my girl." Trace looked him up and down.
"Are you sure?" Justin shoved him while laughing.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."
"How long, man?" Trace asked excitedly.
"A few months. . ."
"A few months?" Justin nodded, "Why am I just getting this info?" He shrugged in response.
"Me and Lonnie wanted to keep it between us for a while to see how things went."
"So that's why you've been so happy." Justin shrugged again, "So, you are hittin' that, aren't you?" Justin smiled and blushed.
"A gentlemen never tells. . ."
"That good?" Trace asked astonished.
"It happened once." Justin explained.
"Damn, Alonsha's a freak ain't she?" Justin shrugged again and raised a brow comically.
"I can't release those vital details."
"Give me the details!" Justin laughed.
"No."
"Did she. . .?" Trace made a face and Justin caught on quickly.
"NO!" Trace sucked his teeth disappointedly.
"Well what about. . ."
"No, Trace. No. No. No!" Justin laughed as Trace pouted.
"You're no fair, I gave you details. . ."
"Against my will." Justin protested. Trace was ready to speak when the doorbell rung. Trace went to get it while Justin retreated to the kitchen for more beers. He heard the 'hello's and 'wassup, dawg?'s from the kitchen and laughed when he heard Chris call Trace a 'bitch'. Sometimes he worried about him. . .
"You gonna stay in here all night or what?" Justin turned and saw Marty by the kitchen door.
"Why don't you do somethin' with yourself?" Justin said jokingly, "Grab some snacks and help me carry these." He gestured towards the six-packs he was placing on the counter.
"Don't try to boss me around, you got Trace for that." Justin laughed.
"He's my best friend, man."
"Right. . ."
"Don't right me," Justin laughed, "When we hang out, we're boys. Which makes you my new bitch." Marty laughed and grabbed the drinks and chips.
"Well, you can kiss my bitch ass." Justin made a disgusted face.
"Nah, man." he said with a small smile, "I think I'll pass."
*-*-*-*-*-*
It was Saturday. Justin had decided that he wanted to have a much needed "Guys Night Out." I didn't understand, he'd rather hang out with Trace than have sex with me? Not that I offered sex to him. In fact, I encouraged his night out. He looked so happy and excited with the thought of hanging with his boys that I couldn't tell him no. I'm a push over, so what? Sue me.
"Now what?" Tiffany looked at me confused. I forgot to mention that I was teaching the girl how to cook. Believe me, I had my work cut out for me.
"Take the chicken and place it in here," I explained as I pointed to the bowl of batter, "Make sure you cover it well before you place it on the baking pan." She looked at me like I had six heads.
"You expect me to touch this stuff?" She gestured between the raw chicken breast and the batter.
"Well it's not gonna batter itself." She made a face and huffed before poking at the chicken.
"It's cold and jiggly." she complained. I rolled my eyes. She was impossible.
"Quit ya bitchin'" I groaned while moving her out of the way. As usual, I'm taking over the entire situation. She smiles, satisfied with the job switch, she was now chopping veggies.
"You know what?" I look at her.
"What?"
"Something's missing. . ." I looked at her like she was insane. What the hell was she talking about? I looked at the counter, looking for a missing ingredient.
"All the stuff is here." I inform and she rolls her eyes.
"Not food," she whines, "Our freeloader. Where's Justin? Doesn't he know you cook on weekends?"
"He's having a guys' night." I say nonchalantly. I can feel her stare drilling a hole in the side of my head. I finally turn to face her. She's grinning.
"You know, I think that there's plenty of food to go around. . ."
"No." I say flatly, "Justin was quite clear on the fact that it was a guys' night. I don't think we should show up uninvited."
"Why not? He does it all the time." I place another piece of chicken on the baking pan.
"Do you really want to stook to his level?" I joke as she rolls her eyes.
"Come on, it'll be fun."
"Tiff-"
"We can win them over with your cooking. . .He loves your cobbler. . ." I wanted to hold back the smile, but I failed miserably.
"He did say my cobbler was almost as good as his granny's. . ."
"Uh huh. . .so?" She wanted me to say yes so badly.
"They might be watching porn." She rolled her eyes.
"So what? You've done half the things that's on those tapes anyway." I push her.
"I have not, you freak!" We laugh before Tiffany picks up the phone and dials.
"Wassup, Trace!" She did not just call his house, "Where's Justin?" I stand corrected.
"What are you doing?" I whisper angrily. She shushes me and she smiles.
"Yo, Blue. Lonnie wants to bring some food over. You up for it?" she asked giddily into the phone.
"Tiffany. . ." I try to interrupt, but I'm cut off by her laughter.
"I'm gonna tell her you said that." Said what? He was talking about me? What the hell was so funny?
"Said what?" She laughs again, completely ignoring me.
"Yeah, she's right here. Hold up." The next thing I know, the phone is pressed to my ear.
"H-hello?" Tiffany's grinning like a village idiot.
"You can't go one night without me, can you?" I smile at his cockiness and roll my eyes.
"Yes, Tiffany's the one who called. Not me."
"So, you don't want to see me?" he asked sadly. I can already picture his pouting face.
"No, I do want to see you, ba-," Oh shit, I can't call him baby, "Justin." I correct quickly. Tiffany makes a face and raises a brow.
"What the fuck is a Ba-Justin?" he laughs.
"Do you prefer bitch?" I ask smartly. He breathes in deeply.
"See, why'd you have to say that?" he asked, "You're always tryin' to bruise my ego."
"Good!" I hear, who I believe is Chris, shout in the backround.
"Hold on." Justin says. I wait and hear some shuffling around. A scream, and some 'oh's.
"Speed up the convo." Tiffany complains as I roll my eyes.
"Sorry about that," I finally hear Justin say, "I had to leave the room."
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"So we can talk dirty." he states in a 'duh' tone. I laugh and roll my eyes for the millionth time.
"Justin, please!" I huff. He groans.
"You're no fun." I'm tempted to tell him I was the other night, but Tiffany's less than three feet away from me.
"You say that now." He laughs.
"I don't what you're talking about." I could smack the grin I know he's wearing off his face.
"So now you have amnesia?" He laughs again.
"No. . .but how about you refresh my memory when you get here?" Oh, there goes that sexual tingle.
"And how do you suggest I go about doing that?"
"By doing me." This time it's my turn to laugh. My heart skipped a beat when he said that.
"Sorry, but it's guys' night. I'm not one of the boys. . ."
"Then I guess that guys' night has to end earlier than intended." He couldn't be serious.
"No, Justin. Enjoy your quality guy time. We can. . .hangout later." I explained as he laughed.
"'Hangout?'" he questioned completely amused by my choice of words.
"That's what I said." I state coolly. He laughs again.
"Tiffany's like two feet away from you, isn't she?"
"Yep."
"Well that explains it." he says more to himself than to me, "You should probably tell her about us." I'm caught off guard by his words.
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"Because-" Nothing. Dead silence.
"Hello? Justin?" No reply. Then there was nothing but a dial tone.
"What's wrong?" Tiffany asked worriedly.
"I don't know," I answered as I placed the phone back on the receiver, "He hung up on me."
"Don't worry about. Food's almost done, so lets wrap it up and head out." I nodded in agreement and pulled out the tubaware.
-*-*-*-*-*-
We pulled up to Justin's house and stepped out of the car. We grabbed the containers of food and headed for the door. I used the key Justin gave me for "emergencies" to get inside. Everytime I walk into this place I'm taken back by it's beauty. It had a spanish flare to it. Lots of ivory walls with oranges, reds, and yellows lighting up the entire mansion.
"Yo! Justin! Somebody!" I shouted throughout the house. The next thing I knew, there's an echo of 'FOOD!' and a total of six men running towards me and Tiffany. Before I blink, everything's gone except for the potato salad in my hands.
"Wassup, baby!" Justin greets me as he walks over to me, kissing my cheek and grabbing the potato salad in the process, "And my lil' mami." Justin squealed in a horrible spanish accent. He kissed Tiffany on the cheek also.
"You hung up on me." I complained and Justin mocked my pouting face.
"So not my fault." he stated innocently, "Marty thought it would be funny to cut off my conversation." I nod before I heard Chris and Marty arguing over a chicken wing.
"Your friends are so greedy." I commented as Justin opened the container, sniffing it with a gleeful smile.
"They're just hungry. We've been drinking beer and eating pizza all day." I rolled my eyes.
"Well maybe if you cooked something for yourselves. . ." Justin groaned loudly.
"You women and this cooking thing you want to enforce." he complained, "It's so gay to cook for your guys' night out."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Justin makes a face, "Everything has to be gay. If you guys weren't so insecure about your sexuality, you wouldn't have a problem with cooking."
"I am very secure with my sexuality," He winked at me, "Some guys cook, others don't. It's as simple as that."
"Whatever." I huff walking into the living room. Tiffany is gone, probably in the kitchen and Justin is walking next to me to through the room.
"Did you make cobbler?" he asked excitedly.
"Yeppers, but I think Chris took it."
"Chris took what?" I heard Chris ask as we walked into the kitchen.
"The cobbler." I answer as I walk over to the fridge. Everybody's in here, sitting on counters and at the table.
"Oh yeah, I left you a piece in the fridge." Chris informed Justin.
"Whoa, that was Justin's?" Dan, one of Justin's back up dancers, asked worriedly.
"Dude!" Justin groaned as Dan looked at his now empty plate. Justin looked like he was ready to cry. It was too cute.
"Sike nah!" Dan said after a few moments of silence. Everybody laughed as Justin pretended to tackle Dan. Mean while, I rumaged through the fridge and spotted his defenseless cobbler. I picked it up and begin to nip at it.
"Justin, ya girl's eatin' ya cobbler." Marty announced. My eyes widened in shock. How dare he tell on me!
"Marty!" I whine. He smiles at me evilly and continues to nibble at his chicken. The next thing I know, Justin's tall frame is hovering over me.
"You eatin' my cobbler woman?" he asked with a smile. I raise a brow at him.
"No, I'm eating my cobbler." Everybody 'oh'ed while laughing. Justin's smile grew wider.
"Don't make me kick you out." he threatened jokingly. I just shrugged and acted unphased by his comment.
"Fine, but I'm taking my food with me."
"NO!" all the guys shouted in unison while grabbing their plates and bowls to their chests, securing them tightly.
"That's not fair." Justin whined.
"Life isn't fair." I take another nip at his cobbler. He glares at me and moves in towards me. I turn my back to him and cover the container with my body.
"Gimme it." He's grinning his ass off.
"Gimme got shot. . ."
". . .And he didn't recover." Trace finished proudly. Everybody laughed.
"Justin stop!" I laugh as he begins to poke my sides.
"Give me the cobbler and I will." Now he's tickling me, full force.
"OK!" I relent, "You can have the fucking cobbler." I toss the container at his chest and the cobbler flops all over his shirt. Some of it got on his face and neck. I cringed when he began to peel the sticky mess off of himself. Everybody has gone into hysterics.
"Damn, man. She got you good." Trace laughed.
"I'm so sorry, Justin." I apologized, but laughed.
"You've got ten seconds," More like three, ". . .to run." He's eeriely calm while saying this. That's usually when he's at his angriest.
"I'm sorry. . ."
"Ten seconds. . ."
"I love you?"
"Eight seconds." Everybody's laughing at the exchange going on between us. Once he says five seconds I begin to head out. I'm halfway up the stairs before I hear his pacing steps and threats of killing me. He's laughing through the whole thing and I'm cracking the hell up. He gets me when I run into his sixth bathroom. Yes I said sixth. Don't even ask. . .
"Justin, I'm sorry. You're not really mad are you?" We're both breathing hard as fuck from our little run. I just realized how old I'm getting.
"No," he admits, "But look where we ended up." I looked around the spacious area.
"A bathroom?" he laughs and cups my face.
"Alone." His lips are already on mine before I get a chance to respond. My tongue has made its way into his mouth and I'm enjoying our closeness, despite the fact that his cobbler shirt is sticking to my own.
"Aw shit, Justin." I whine while pulling away from the kiss, "My shirt." He looks at my shirt and laughs.
"Serves you right." I punch his arm.
"Bum! I need a shirt." He rolls his eyes and opens the bathroom door.
"Come on. . ." He takes my hand and guides me into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind us and makes his way to his walk-in closet.
"Here." he says while handing me a Mecca shirt. I tossed it onto the bed and began to remove my shirt, careful not to get anything on my hair. Once the shirt is off my body, I ball it up and place it in Justin's hamper. Speaking of Justin. . .
"What?" I asked once I noticed him staring at me. He shrugs and slaunters over to me.
"Nothing." he whispers, ready to kiss me.
"Whoa, shirt." I say pointing to the gooey mess on the front of his white tee. He smiles and pulls it over his head, revealing his sculpted chest. Damn.
"Better?" I nod and he smiles. This time I don't pull away. His mouth his so warm and his hand is on the small of my back, pressing me into him. I moan into his mouth as I reluntantly pull away.
"We can't," I explain, "Everybody's downstairs."
"So?" Was he insane?
"They could hear us." He shrugs.
"They already know about us." Huh? Since when?
"What? How do they know about us?" He better start explaining.
"I told Trace. He told them." He was already leaning in again.
"I thought we were going to keep it to ourselves?" He sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Trace kept bugging me about the bet. . ." Did he just say bet? He stopped talking and looked just as shocked as I was by his choice of words.
My stupid mouth
Has got me in trouble
I said too much again
To a date over dinner yesterday
"Bet? What bet?" He stared at me wide-eyed, "Hello?" I asked annoyed.
"Well. . .You see. . ." He laughed nervously, "You're gonna laugh when I tell you this. . ." What's with the bullshit?
"Spill it." I was not amused. I grabbed the Mecca shirt off of the bed and put it on. He took the hint and put on a new shirt.
"Remember when I had that little goodbye party?" I nodded, unsure of where this was going.
"Yeah. . ."
"Well, me and Trace had this conversation about you and me." I nod again, "And well he claimed that I liked you and all. . .but at the time I wasn't sure about how I felt, so of course I denied it. . ." I don't like where this is going, he's too nervous.
And I could see
She was offended
She said "well anyway..."
Just dying for a subject change
"So what happened?" I asked impatiently.
"Well, he said that the only reason why I couldn't admit I liked you was because you didn't want me."
"And then what?"
"He kinda challenged me."
"Challenged you?"
"Yeah," He scratches the back of his neck, "I accepted the challenged."
Oh, another social casualty
Score one more for me
"What was the challenge?"
"You." Okay, I'm confused.
"Justin, what the fuck are you talking about?" He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides.
"Trace set up a bet, okay? He said that he'd basically give me his dignity if I could get you to like me, like me. Like more than friends."
How could I forget?
Mama said "think before speaking"
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do
I guess he better find one soon
He didn't just say that. He's not standing in front of me, confessing that everything we've done together was for the sake of a bet. He lied when he called me beautiful. He lied when he thanked me for being me. He lied when he told me that he didn't want me to leave the morning after we had sex. I was just an object in some game. My only purpose was for Justin to prove he could have any girl he wanted. I felt so cheap. . . so used. . .
"How could you go along with something like that?" I wasn't even looking at him anymore. I couldn't. I was already struggling to hold back my tears.
"I'm sorry, Lonnie. I wasn't thinking. . ."
"So, everything that's happened to us was just some way for you to win a stupid bet?" My disappointment was slowly turning into anger. I could feel my heart beat faster and my breathing quickened.
And I could see clearly
An indelible line was drawn
Between what was good, what just
slipped out and what went wrong
"No. . .Well kinda." He has got to be kidding me, "It sorta started out that way, but I swear Alonsha by the end of our first date, I didn't want to be involved with the bet anymore." I stood there. Trying to comprehend the situation at hand.
"You really expect me to believe that?" He looked a little taken back by words, but quickly recovered.
"Alonsha. . ."
"Just. . .shut up." I stated as I raised my hand to silence him, "I need to get out of here."
Oh, the way she feels
about me has changed
Thanks for playing, try again.
"Alonsha, please." I heard Justin plea as I made my way out the door and down the hall. I ignored him and made my way down the stairs. Everybody was on the couch, laughing at some movie. I couldn't see it through the tears welling up in my eyes.
"Tiffany, I'm leaving." I announce, not even bothering to stop walking.
"Whoa, slow down Speedy Gonzalas!" Tiffany said as she followed closely behind me.
"Tiffany, I want to leave." I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes.
"What happened?" she asked concerned. I could feel myself choke up. I was ready to enter the ugly cry. The one with the hard breathing, and hiccupping.
"Can we talk about it in the car?" I squeaked out before sniffling and wiping away a new set of tears. Tiffany nodded.
"Guys! We're out!" she shouted before opening the door. I walked out and she followed, pulling the door shut behind her. As we made our way down the unpaved driveway, I tried to concentrate on the crackling sound of the rocks beneath my feet, rather than the pounding headache I could feel echoing through my head.
We finally reach the car, Tiffany offers to drive. I hop in the passanger side and Tiffany gets in the driver's seat. We both put on our seat belts and she puts the key in the ignition. The whole time she's pulling out of the driveway, down the hill, and pass the gates, I'm trying to formulate the right words to explain exactly what happened.
"So. . .what happened?" Tiffany asked timidly. I look out of the window and watch the scenery go by in a blur. My mind back tracked to New York. To the wonderful night I had with Justin. To the moment we kissed. To the feeling of content and pleasure that overwhelmed my body when he placed his lips on top of mine. . .
"It was all a lie." I whispered, more to myself than Tiffany.
"What was a lie?" I turned my head and faced her. She was gonna be angry. Well, more disappointed than angry, that I didn't tell her about me and Justin.
"Me and Justin. . .Justin's my. . ." She turned her head from the road briefly to look at me.
"He's your what?"
"Justin and I have been. . .seeing one another. . .for a few months now." She didn't say anything, she just nodded.
"Okay. . ." she mumbled, "So, what happened?" I felt my tears coming back.
"He only went out with me because of some stupid bet." I huffed, "It was just a set up." Being the dramatic being that she is, Tiffany gasped and 'Oh my God'ed.
"That bastard! How could he do something like that!?!" I wiped my tears away.
"Oh well, I should've known." I sniffled, "You don't go from fuckin' Britney Spears to settling for Alonsha Daniels."
"Don't you say that shit, Alonsha!" Tiffany snapped, "Don't you for one fuckin' second think badly about yourself. You are ten times better than Britney in every sense of the word. She's nothing compared to you." I went wide-eyed. I wasn't expecting all that from her. Tiffany and Britney weren't partically close, but I didn't know she despised her.
"Where did all that come from?" I asked with a small smirk.
"I've been holding that in since Justin started dating her ass." I smiled broadly. She smiled back at me.
"Since when do you bite your tongue?"
"Don't be a smartass." She laughed and I did too, "Did you sleep with Justin?" Whoa, so wasn't expecting that.
"Why?"
"Just answer me."
"It happened. . .once." I admitted. She nodded again.
"Was it any good?" I furrowed my brows.
"Yeah, why?" She sighed and mumbled 'damn'. She was quiet for a moment and I was beginning to worry.
"I got it!" she shouted out of nowhere, "We'll tell on him." What?
"Tell on him? Justin?"
"Yeah! We'll call up Lynn and. . ."
"No." Was she insane?
"Why not?"
"Because. . .it's between me and Justin, not his mother." Tiffany rolled her eyes.
"How else is he gonna pay for this?" I laughed. She was so evil.
"Look, I really don't care about making him pay. I just want to go home and stuff my face with some Edy's ice cream."
"And a Brad Pitt movie mania night?" Tiffany asked hopefully.
"Sure," I laughed, "Sure."
Song Credit:
"My Stupid Mouth"- John Mayer
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