"Loverboy's on his way over." Jules snickers as Justin weaves his way through the crowd toward us. He finally stops in front of us and slams his hands down on the table, a stupid grin plastered on his face.
"What up, party people?" He shouts happily.
"Oh Jesus... he's fucking smashed." Cooper laughs and shakes his head as Justin continues to ramble incoherently.
In the two and a half weeks since we met, I've never seen him like this. Granted, he almost always has a drink in his hand when he's here, but until tonight, I hadn't actually seen him drunk. Hell, come to think of it... I don't think I've even seen him buzzed.
Which is unfortunate, really. If he was drunk, atleast then he'd have an excuse for all the corny shit he's said to me.
"Alright folks, finish your drinks and get the hell out!" The bartender calls out as the music is shut off and the lights come up. I toss the rest of my drink back quickly and slide off my stool, Jules and Cooper following close behind.
"Where y'all goin?" Justin slurs, squinting his eyes at the three of us.
"The bar's closing." I shrug and pull on my jacket. "I suggest you find your friend... obviously, you won't be driving yourself home tonight."
"He already left with some broad." Justin rolls his eyes and plops down on a stool. "Guess I'll have to walk home."
"Dude, just get a cab." Jules chuckles, watching Justin sway in his seat.
"Oh yeah! Cab!" He nods excitedly and heads for the door.
He stumbles to the curb, waving his arms around frantically, trying to hail a cab, but the street is completely empty.
Great, he's totally wasted.
I know I'll regret what I'm about to do, but I can't leave him here like this. The good Samaritan in me just can't do it.
"I'll give you a ride Justin." I mutter and make my way to my car.
"You want us to go with you?" Jules asks, arching an eyebrow at me as she watches Justin trudge along behind me.
"Nah, it'll be alright. He's too wasted to try molesting me or anything.... I think." I crack and unlock the doors before guiding Justin into the passenger seat. "You guys head on home, I'll see ya in the morning."
"Alright, be careful Em." Cooper calls over his shoulder as he and Jules head for their own cars.
I climb into the driver seat to find Justin playing with the radio and giggling like a 12 year old girl. This should be nice and interesting.
"Alright, where do you live Justin?" He appears to be deep in thought for several seconds before his eyes light up and he smiles brightly.
"I live at my house!"
"And exactly where is that?"
"Oh... umm... it's a gray building. On the corner." He nods seriously and I'm fighting the urge to slap him.
I saw a stand-up comedian one time who said taking care of a drunk person is a lot like taking care of a baby. Let me just take a second to say, that guy was not fucking kidding. Dealing with a drunk Justin is just like dealing with a two year old.
"Alright, which corner?" I ask, trying my best to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
"It's... it's.... I forgot." He pouts and folds his arms over his chest.
Note to self: Never volunteer to play designated driver unless you know where the drunk lives.
"Is there someone you can call?"
"Trace." He shrugs and digs his phone out of his pocket. He dials the number slowly, holding the phone barely an inch away from his face. He finally raises the phone to his ear and let's it ring for several minutes before he snaps it shut. "No answer." He mumbles and suddenly, I feel like I'm going to scream, or shove his face through the windshield.
I knew I was going to regret this.
*************
"I fell into a burning ring of fire, and it burns, burns, burns... the ring of fire!" Justin wails and I quickly clamp my hand over his mouth as we climb the stairs to my apartment.
"So help me God, if you don't shut the fuck up... I'm going to push you down these steps." I glare at him and he nods before sticking his tongue out and swiping it across the palm of my hand. "You're disgusting."
"No... I'm cute!" He grins stupidly and all I can do is roll my eyes.
We finally reach my door and I dig my keys out of my purse while Justin wobbles around the hallway, still humming "Ring Of Fire." He really is an idiot.
But, the small part of me that's actually a decent person just couldn't leave him stranded at the bar. So, since he couldn't give me an address or any form of directions, I had no choice but to bring him back to my place.
"Alright, you get the couch. In the morning, we'll call your friend and have him come get you. Kapiesh?"
"Yes sir!" Justin salutes me, then stumbles across the living room, knocking things off the table.
He stops in front of me and grins like he knows something I don't. I swear, the more I see of him... the weirder he gets.
"Night Justin." I nod and turn to head for my bedroom, but he quickly grabs my arm and pulls me against him.
"Why won't you go out with me?" Oh he is entirely too wasted for this conversation, and frankly... I'm not in the mood to list all those reasons for the millionth time.
"Goodnight Justin." I repeat with a little more force, hoping he'll get the hint and let me go.
"Night Emma." He smiles and leans in, quickly pressing his lips to my cheek before he releases me then collapses onto the couch.
He's knocked out within seconds and I head for my bedroom, attempting to ignore the butterflies in my stomach and the tingling sensation in the spot where his lips had been.
Damn.
This is proof that it's been far too long since I've seen any action. Even a stupid kiss on the cheek from Justin is giving me that lightheaded, dizzy feeling.
Maybe tomorrow, I need to swallow my pride and give Max a call. Because obviously, my body and mind are not on the same page when it comes to the romantic stuff.
Who knows, maybe fooling around with Max might be the best thing for me. After all, he's leaving in a couple weeks, so I won't have the time to get attached.
Unfortunately, there's this nagging voice in the back of my mind, trying to tell me that the only male attention I really want, is Justin's.
But, I'm going to ignore that voice, because the last time I checked... hell was still pretty damn warm, pigs have yet to take flight, and worms certainly haven't sprouted ears.
I am not forming a crush on Justin.
It's not possible.
I flip the light on my nightstand out and crawl into bed, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head.
I do not like Justin.
****************
There are moments in life, where you would absolutely kill for everyone you know to be present. Sometimes it's a party, or winning a fight. Then, there are times like this, where you stumble upon something so ridiculous, it has to be seen to be believed.
When I woke up this morning, I'd almost forgotten about the drunken fool I brought home last night. Until, I walked into my living room and found him sprawled out on the floor underneath my coffee table, stripped down to just his boxers and sneakers.
I don't know how or why he ended up like this, and I'm not so sure I want to. I just want him out of my home so I can go to work.
"Justin..." I poke his shoulder with the toe of my shoe, but he doesn't budge. I try again a little harder, and still nothing.
Great, with my luck, he's probably died of alcohol poisoning or something. How the hell do you explain a half naked, dead pop star underneath your coffee table?
There's a loud knock on the door and Justin finally stirs before shooting up from his laying position, and bashing the top of his head into the underside of the table.
As the dull thud echoes throughout my apartment, I have to cover my mouth to hide my laughter. I really don't know when my life became a bad sitcom.
I pad over to the door and swing it open, slightly surprised at the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in front of me.
"Where is he?" He demands before I'm able to utter a single word.
"Excuse me?"
"Where. Is. He." He repeats slowly, like he's talking to someone who hasn't quite grasped the english language.
"Who the fuck are you, and how did you find my apartment?"
"Trace." He rolls his eyes and shifts awkwardly. "I came to pick up Justin. I'm the asshole who ditched him at the bar... and he gave me your address in a voicemail, about five this morning."
"Oh... so you're the one I have to thank for this?" I smirk and gesture toward Justin, who's fallen back asleep under the table.
"Shit... how drunk was he?" He laughs and steps into the apartment.
"Pretty damn."
"Damn... I'm really sorry." He chuckles before bending down and shaking Justin's arm. "Come on J... wake the fuck up." He smacks him in the face a little and I can't help but laugh.
I like this guy already. It's a shame Justin isn't as cool as his friend appears to be.
"Where the hell are my clothes?" Justin asks, finally awake enough to crawl out from under the table and stand up.
His jeans, T-shirt and jacket are haphazardly strewn about on my couch and I toss them to him, laughing as he quickly pulls them on.
"Emma... I'm so sorry. You should have just left me at the bar." He chuckles nervously, trying his best to cover up his embarrassment.
"Eh... just take it as a sign that I'm not a complete bitch." I shrug and gather my things. "Now, y'all need to go. I'm running late."
"Yeah..." Justin nods as he and Trace head for the door. "Thanks again Emma."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." I give the two of them a dismissive wave as they leave.
Taking care of a drunk Justin was no picnic, but I can't ignore the slight fear that he may be too embarrassed about last night to ever talk to me again.
"Ring of Fire"-Johnny Cash
