I lazily scoop around the soggy pieces of Cap n Crunch around my bowl, my mind too electric with thoughts to eat anything.
I think I should sue the person who said Things always look better in the morning. They don’t. All the morning brings is a hundred new worries that you didn’t have time to think about the night before. Natasha didn’t enter my mind once last night when I was busy self-confessing my love for Cat. She’s been away in California all week for her brother’s birthday, I hardly even remembered she existed until this morning. As if I needed another thing to remind me what a mess I’m in.
Then of course there’s that lovely little fact that Sean is still upstairs twisted in Cat’s sheets, reveling in the morning after glow. Let’s not forget that Cat’s by his side, which makes my situation that little bit better.
I bury my head in my hands. When did I get into this mess? Why do I suddenly feel as though I love Cat and would do anything for her? It’s just not fair. The first few months of our friendship I thought of her as this great girl who I could always count on to cheer me up or make me laugh with her pessimistic sarcasm. It never once crossed my mind what it would be like to hold her hand, or fiddle with her hair, or any of the other crap Sean always insists on doing. But now it’s all I can think about.
I can’t even come up with a legitimate reason as to why I like her so much. She’s no different from any other girl out there, but all of a sudden she seems to be the epitome of what any guy could want in a woman. Okay, so perhaps she won’t be winning any beauty pageants anytime soon, but she is pretty. And her figure is no different to any other girl’s out there. She’s got rounded edges, but every time I hug her all I can think about is how great it is to feel kinda squishy, warm, soft skin, instead of rock hard muscle.
Personality wise, she’s not the girl I would normally be attracted to. I would say she’s a girl I would count as a friend, but that theory has recently come back to bite me in the ass, so I’m not even going to bother. She’s has a twisted sense of humor that makes some people raise their eyebrows and tut, but makes others, like myself, laugh themselves silly. She’s has mood swings every two seconds, which either piss me off or entertain me greatly, because when she tries to be angry at me, she fails and ends up grinning. She’s terribly pessimistic and is convinced something is going to go wrong and her whole world will come crashing down around her. No matter how much she denies, she’s a silly romantic at heart. She blushes at the very mention of flattery. She’s annoying insecure and can fret over the tiniest thing, but in some ways that just encourages me to compliment her and let her know how great she really is. She’s got just as many faults as the rest of us, so what is it that makes me want her so much?
All her faults make her the person who she is, and I love the person she is.
If Cat was hearing my thoughts right now, she would be rolling her eyes and calling me a woman. The thought alone makes me grin. We would be perfect together. I’m just cheesy enough to make her shake her head and sigh, she’s just witty enough to make me grin and keep me on my toes.
Why didn’t I see all of this before we both got involved in semi-serious relationships?
I’m an idiot. In a big way.
“Justin, you look as though you’re about to kill yourself,” a teasing tone breaks into my thoughts.
I snap my head up and look up to see Cat, all dressed in her little black office clothes, except for her bare feet. The moment my eyes land on her body, my thoughts are suddenly invaded by images of Sean and her. Touching each other, giggling, the works. I look at her blankly, barely seeing through all the pictures in my head.
My eyes quickly return to my slushy cereal. “Oh…you know, it’s a Monday, what can I say?”
I sense her shuffle around slightly, before hearing the splash of coffee hitting the bottom of a cup. Raising my eyes ever so slightly, I see her slide into the chair opposite me
“Sure, but you don’t have to drag your ass to work,” she groans, bending her knees and resting her pantyhosed feet on the chair beside her. “What do you and Trace actually do whilst I’m working my butt off at that slave-house?”
I shrug and look into my bowl. “Stuff. So, um…hey, how come you’re not drinking hot chocolate?” I blurt out, my eyes resting on her cup.
“I need caffeine this morning,” she says grimly, leaning down to pick off a piece of lint from her skirt.
“Not get much sleep last night?” I ask, before my hand flies to my mouth. Of course she didn’t sleep that much last night, she was with…having….ugh. I didn’t mean it like that though, I just figured I’d be polite and ask if anything was wrong. My face turns a dark crimson as I reflect on my disability of even forming casual conversation with this woman. You’re a pro, Timberlake.
She laughs. “Well, no, not exactly.”
She doesn’t seem embarrassed about it, in fact she seems utterly relaxed and sophisticated compared to me. The nervous jigging of my right leg is a giveaway as I fiddle with my spoon and maintain eye contact with the surface of the table.
“So, where is Sean?” I ask quietly.
“Just left,” she explains briefly. “He had to go home and get changed before he goes to work.”
I nod, clamping my jaw shut to retain my hundreds of questions positively dying to be asked. The bouncing on my leg increases. I can’t look at her, I just can’t bear it. Every time my eyes rest on her freckled skin, all I can think about is what her and Sean were doing last night.
“So…um…are you okay?” I ask, cursing myself as soon as the words left my mouth. Oh Justin, you stupid man! What kind of question is that? It’s not like she was some virgin who found herself in the middle of an orgy.
She smirks slightly. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
My eyes finally lift to meet hers after finishing my intricate design on the table. “What do you mean?”
“Justin, you haven’t looked this uncomfortable since I explained the menstrual cycle to you,” she says, raising an eyebrow, a teasing grin in place.
I can’t help but feel the corners of my mouth twitch upwards. “Yeah, don’t do that again.”
She smiles, before sipping her coffee. “So, what’s wrong?”
Her piercing eyes make me feel naked under her gaze, as though I’m expecting her to suddenly stand up and shake her finger at me, saying, “You love me, don’t you?”
But she doesn’t. Instead, she just continues to stare at me calmly, expecting me to have a real good reason for looking as though I’m going to shoot up the place.
“I--” My voice suddenly cracks without my permission, and for one horrible moment I feel the stinging in my eyes, as though I’m about to cry. But I can’t, nor can I proclaim my new found love for her, despite it seeming the right thing to do.
“Oh God, Justin. What is it?” she asks, her eyes filling with worry and a comforting hand sliding across the table to squeeze mine.
“I…I…I think I’m going to break up with Natasha,” I finally whisper quietly, a note of defeat in my voice.
Her eyes widen. “What? But she’s perfect,” she says, almost bitterly, picking up her coffee to take a sip.
“I know. I think she’s just…too…perfect. If that makes sense,” I shrug.
She nods and puts down her coffee cup. “I know what you mean. I get that feeling with Sean sometimes.”
My eyes snap up. “You doubt your relationship?”
“Well, no, not exactly.” She leans back slightly at my sudden accusation. “But sometimes I just wonder if there should be more, I don’t know…spontaneity.”
I nod in understanding. It’s less than the “I secretly hate his ass” that I wanted to hear, but it’ll do.
“I mean, we’ve never even argued, or disagreed. Things can’t stay this perfect for long.” She pauses, before shrugging. “Or maybe we’ve just been taught to be pessimistic.”
“Sometimes people just aren’t meant to be together, no matter how perfect they may seem for each other,” I mumble, staring at my hands.
She nods. “So are you seriously thinking about finishing things between you two?”
I nod. “I just don’t see it going anywhere, so what’s the point in wasting her time?” I shrug.
“Okay,” accepts Cat after a pause, despite the disbelief clearly written on her face. “If that’s what you think is best.” She’s silent for a moment, her gaze dropping to my forgotten breakfast. “There’s nothing else bothering you, is there?”
Look at her, you fucking pussy. Just raise your eyes and do it. “No, nothing else,” I whisper, our eyes meeting.
“Good. Look Justin, I know I’ve been kind of busy with Sean and work lately, but you know I’m always here for you when you need it,” she says sincerely, cocking her head to the side to study my tired appearance.
“I know you are,” I mutter, my eyes freshening with tears. “So,” I suddenly say briskly. “How are things with Sean? Good?”
She nods and grins. “Great, thanks. I’m glad you two got over that little argument the other day.”
“Yeah,” I mumble unenthusiastically. “Um…did you guys make up quickly?” Oh, well done Justin. Another star question from Timberlake. They clearly made up pretty fast, otherwise she wouldn’t be seating in front of me looking quite so radiantly happy.
She smiles. “Yeah. He knows some tricks,” she says, winking at me.
I painfully return her smile, before my face suddenly fills with horror. “He didn’t force you or anything last night, did he? You wanted to, right?”
She blushes and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, of course not. I wanted to,” she says quietly, her cheeks turning a further shade of red. She’s shy. It’s cute.
No, Justin. Stop it. She’s clearly happy with Sean, and even though it makes every fiber in my body scream in anguish, I can’t ruin that for her. As much as it kills me, I think this is as close as me and Cat will ever be.
I hate love. Especially when it’s one-sided.
------------------------------------------------
I can’t help but narrow my eyes at Justin. After assuring him Sean didn’t rape me, he’s just drifted off into his thoughts again, for what must be the fifth time in our conversation. There’s clearly something on his mind other than Natasha, but I can’t push him to tell me, as much as I want to.
I’d feel a lot more comfortable if he would at least look at me. I can understand he’s upset but I’m starting to feel guilty from the way he keeps on staring into his cereal, his eyes only meeting my briefly, before quickly returning to the table top. He looks as though his world has just come crashing down on him.
“Shit,” I suddenly mutter, my eyes landing on the clock above the refrigerator. “I gotta go to work.”
Justin nods and traces a pattern on the table with his finger. I send him a sympathetic gaze which he never sees, before slowly sliding out of my seat. I don’t want to leave him like this, but I have no choice.
“If you need me, just call my cell or my work. The number’s over there,” I state, casually jerking my thumb in the direction of the large piles of paper no one ever touches in the corner of the kitchen.
“Okay,” he whispers.
Justin, I’m going to have to ask you to stop speaking like that, it only intensifies the urge I have to wrap my arms around you until you feel better.
I scoop his face up in my hands and turn his head to me. “Everything’s going to be okay, you know that, right?”
His eyes meet mine and he holds my gaze for a few seconds longer than I’m comfortable with. I don‘t like people staring at me, it always raises the question as to what they’re staring at. Is he looking at the light smattering of freckles on my nose? Has he noticed one eyebrow is a fraction higher than the other? It’s horrible being under scrutiny, especially when he’s denied me eye contact all day.
But my insecurities wash away as I see an element of sadness I’ve never noticed, hidden in his eyes. Is he really that cut up about Natasha? I can’t deny my heart leapt when he said he was thinking about splitting up with her, despite hoping the events of last night would wash away any loving feelings I harbor for him. But I would much rather he was happy with her, instead of the emptiness which his gaze now holds.
“I know it will. Thanks Cat,” he whispers, his dark blue eyes boring into my own.
Suddenly, his arms clasp around my waist tightly, jerking my body towards him. His head presses against the pillowy landing of my stomach, and I subconsciously wonder why he didn’t give me time to hold my breath in. He almost looks like a child, resting against my stomach with his eyes tightly squeezed shut, as though he wants to block out the world. I gently run my fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him any way I can without actually giving in to my inner impulses and just kissing him senseless. His hands start to grapple at my back slightly, grasping at my shirt, as though he wants me closer to him than I already am. Kissing him, ha, that’s a funny thought. I wonder how he would react if I did. I’m thinking, dramatic pushes, looks of surprise…it would be like something out of some daytime soap opera. But it would be worth it, even if my lips just met his soft mouth for one second…
Stop it, right now. You’ve got a boyfriend, who by the way, you just slept with, and he’s upset about his girlfriend. The time to think perverted thoughts is certainly not now, especially when he’s in such an emotional, heartbroken state. God Cat, you’re the kind of person who thinks about whether you’re in the will at a funeral.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” I softly coo, twirling a curl around my finger, but hoping he doesn’t notice I’m assaulting his hair like this.
“Thank you,” he sniffles, rubbing his head against me.
God, why am I finding that completely adorable? When do I ever find things ‘adorable’?
“I’d better quit acting like a dog now,” he says, laughing slightly as he pulls away, rubbing his eyes.
“I don’t mind being your owner,” I reply, grinning and leaning down to drop a quick kiss on his cheek. To my surprise, he doesn’t recoil. In fact, a slight blush enters his cheek.
“Have a good day at work,” he says, smiling weakly at me.
“Thanks,” I call over my shoulder as I pick up my purse.
I briskly walk into the hall, mentally going through a checklist of what I need for work.
“Hey Cutie, where’s the fire?” says Trace, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching.
“Late for work,” I mumble, looking in the hall closet for my shoes. “Oh, Trace,” I whisper, popping my head out of the dark mess for a second. “Before you go in there, Justin’s kind of upset. Make sure he doesn’t spend all day moping around, okay?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Him and Natasha, I think. He’s just really down, so be nice to him.”
“I’m always nice to him!” he exclaims happily, holding out his arms and grinning. “But I’ll be extra special-y kind today.”
“Thank you,” I reply, grinning, before preparing myself to stick my head back inside the closet.
“Oh, and Cat?”
“Yeah?” I respond, putting my hands on my knees.
“Can you ask Sean how he gets his moans to have a southern twang to them?” he says, grinning at me and wiggling
A deep, embarrassed blush creeps to my cheeks and I cough. “Shut up Trace, and go and comfort Justin,” I reply, pointing to the kitchen.
He sticks out his tongue before entering the kitchen, leaving me with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on my face. Slipping my shoes on, I happily stroll out of the house, knowing Justin will be fine with Trace, and knowing I get to spend the next eight hours staring happily at Sean, as he winks at me and sends me emails whilst I’m working.
How I love all my boys.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I have to do this. I just have to. If I didn’t it would be like I was lying to her, and with all the lying I’m doing to cover up how I feel for Cat, I just don’t want another thing on my list.
Most men would think I was stupid. Here I am, trying to figure out ways of telling the perfect girl that I just can’t see her any more. But within ten minutes of seeing her, I knew things just weren’t the same. Every time her skin comes into contact with mine, guilt surges through me. Every time she says something, my mind drifts off to where Cat is, who she’s with, and what she’s doing. Every time she does anything, I compare to how Cat would do it. I feel like I’m betraying Natasha, because I’d much rather Cat was sitting opposite me, having lunch with me.
I don’t particularly want to break things off, but how can I continue a relationship when I have stronger feelings for someone else? I’d be in the relationship for comfort alone, and I can’t build a relationship on that. I would just be using her as a distraction from Cat, and she’s too nice of a girl to do that to. She certainly doesn’t deserve that.
“And then one of the kids just ran, butt naked, I should add, through the house and onto the street!”
I sigh and stare into my plate of pasta. How did things so quickly spiral out of control? How did non existent feelings suddenly burst into one big explosion of love?
Oh, who am I kidding. These feelings have been simmering under the surface for a long time now.
“Isn’t that strange, though? How can ten year olds know chat up lines? I’m telling you, it was the last place I expected to get hit on!”
Should I wait a few days? I should wait a few days. I mean, she just came back from her trip, all tanned and gorgeous and happy, eagerly talking about her little brother’s tenth birthday party. I can’t just crush her happy demeanor with an, ‘FYI, you’re dumped’.
“Justin, are you alright?” asks Natasha, her chocolate brown eyes staring at me with concern. “You’re really quiet.”
“Fine, fine,” I say, shaking myself slightly. She’s a great girl, I hate myself for having to do this. And how can I possibly explain this to her? Our relationship has been going perfectly fine until this. It’ll be such a slap in the face.
“Natasha,” I begin after a sigh. Just say it, Justin. “I really need to talk to you.”
She frowns. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
I sigh. “Look Natasha, you’re a great girl…”
“Justin, don’t,” she says gently. “Just tell me what you have to.”
I feel my heart tighten. Words Justin, you need words. “I’m sorry, but we can’t see each other any more.”
She remains emotionless, her brown eyes staring blankly at me, waiting for me to finish.
“I hate to say this, but it’s not you, it’s me. I’m just…” I sigh, and run a hand over my face. “I’m really all over the place at the moment.” Great, now she’ll think I’m a homicidal maniac. “I can’t be in a relationship right now.” How come my honesty is sounding like some line out of Baywatch?
After a few minutes of silence as I silently pray she‘ll take it well, she finally nods. “If that’s what you want.”
Shame pours through me. “It’s not that I necessarily want it, I just…Natasha, I’m so sorry. I know things were going well between us…”
“No, I understand. Things just wouldn’t work out.”
“And I don’t want to lead you on,” I add. I am such a terrible person. God will smite me.
She nods again. “No, no, I understand,” she repeats. “I guess I’m glad you told me now than further down the line.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Hysterics are easy to deal with, but her eerily calm and matter-of-fact attitude is unnerving for some reason. “I really am sorry.”
She shrugs. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.”
“Is there someone else?”
My jaw clenches. What am I supposed to say? No? Yes? Kinda? Nobody knows how I feel about Cat. Even Trace, who has spent the last few days trying to figure out why I’m in such a funk. He probably will eventually, when he sees how I act like some lost puppy whenever she’s around nowadays. But he hasn’t had the chance, as she’s spent the last few nights at Sean’s. God, I’m so jealous of that guy. How could I let a girl like her slip through my fingers like that? It was just a matter of time before someone else snapped her up and ---
“Justin!”
My mind suddenly jerks back down to earth. “Yeah?”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she murmurs, taking a sip of some wine.
I groan and place my head in my hands. “I’m such a jerk. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head and picks up her purse, fishing out some money. “For how long, may I ask?”
“Four days,” I mutter unhappily.
She laughs and places a few bills on the table. “Are you guys dating?”
“No!” I hastily exclaim. “Nothing’s happened or anything. I didn’t cheat on you. At least, not like that…” I trail off from my ramblings, realizing I did sort of cheat on her. Emotionally, at least.
“Is it anyone I know?” she asks calmly, leaning on the table as though we’re just two friends casually talking over lunch.
I shrug. “Don’t worry about that. Nothing’s going to come from it.”
“Do you want something to come from it?”
Isn’t this a weird conversation to be having with your very recently ex-ed girlfriend? “I don’t know,” I mumble.
“Justin, I’m not trying to make you feel awkward or ashamed of yourself,” she laughs. “You just look as though you’re going through a rough patch. I’m here to help.”
“But I just broke up with you for my own selfish reasons!” I exclaim. “How can you not hate me?”
She shrugs. “Rather you did that than lied to me,” she replies rationally. “So, it’s unreciprocated, I take it.”
I nod miserably. It sure is.
“It’s Cat, isn’t it?”
My head snaps up sharply, eyes widened. What did she just say?
“Wh-what makes you say that?” I stutter pathetically, leaning on the table in an attempt to look cool and calm.
She raises an eyebrow. “Justin, I’m no fool. Every time she enters a room, you smile. Whenever her name comes up in conversation, you’re always the one who said it. When you talk to her, your eyes soften. It’s been obvious to me for some time now. I think I realized before you did.” She laughs, but it never meets her eyes, and I hate to see tears forming in them.
I groan and squeeze me eyes shut. I know how it feels to be second best, and it‘s awful. “I’m so sorry, Natasha. I wish you didn’t have to see that.”
“It’s okay,” she says, shrugging. “I never expected this to be a long term relationship or anything.”
“But I never meant to make you feel that way.”
She sighs. “I know you didn’t. You’re a great guy, Justin.”
I feel my cheeks burn. “Thank you.”
“And take my advice,” she reaches across the table and clasps my hand in hers. “Don’t let Cat get away, okay? Sean isn’t what she needs, you are.”
My heart leaps at her words. “What?”
“Sean just isn’t for her. He’s a fling, a momentary glitch, a passing stranger.”
I bow my head. “Cat doesn’t seem to think so. She really likes him.”
“And she really loves you.” My eyes widen. “Don’t be stupid about this, Justin. You’ll regret it if you let her go,” she says, before pushing her chair out and leaving the restaurant, tossing me a wave over her shoulder.
I remain seated, my mouth hanging open from shock. What is Natasha talking about? Cat, liking…me? No, that’s not what she said, she said loving me. Natasha can clearly see things before others, so does that mean Cat has some sort of feelings for me? Is there hope for me yet? Is there the slimmest of chances Cat might actually feel a quarter of what I feel for her?
But what if she doesn’t. What if this is just Natasha’s revenge on me, for me rubbing her nose in my love for Cat. I just don’t know. I don’t think she’s ever acted like she’s even had the slightest of crushes on me, but I didn’t think I would ever feel this way about her. I’m beginning to think my thinking is just not up to scratch.
I just know I couldn’t stand rejection.
Story Tags: Be the first to add a tag to this story
