I hate him.  I hate myself.  I hate Beverly.  I hate…I hate everyone.

I fucking cried this morning.  Cried!! God, I’m so fucking pathetic.  It shouldn’t matter.  I shouldn’t care.  Beverly told me she was sorry that she overreacted and that she shouldn’t have blown up at him in front of me and that she wasn’t there and wasn’t positive at what went down.  She said she was just having a bad day ‘cause she didn’t sleep well and even called Dwayne to ask him about it again.  She put him on speaker without him knowing so I could hear what he said.  Dwayne just said some girl was all over him and trying to kiss him and he seemed uninterested.  But, but then he said she went home with him.  Then he told Beverly that she should mind her own business and stop trying to mother everyone.  I felt bad.  She took him off speaker and proceeded to get in a big fight with him.

I guess it’s just a sucky day for everyone.

It’s just that I thought after the whole shoe buying thing that maybe he might like me, ya know?  I spent all weekend getting my hopes up.  I gushed to Liz about it all fucking Friday night.  My mom even noticed on Saturday that I was a little too giddy and I finally told her I had a crush on someone.  She was so excited.  Since she and dad married when they were 21 I’m apparently way beyond age and running out of time.

But now my one fucking chance is gone ‘cause he had fun this weekend and I got defensive and depressed.  And…and it shouldn’t matter.  It...it doesn’t.  We’re not together.  He didn’t cheat on me.  In fact, he even asked me out and I…what do I do?  I act like a moron and tell him I have a date.  I just, I wanted him to feel like I did.  I wanted him to be jealous.

And he didn’t even care.  He was just like ‘oh whatever.’

Ugh!!  

Yeah, yeah ‘oh fucking whatever’!!  Maybe next time he gets drunk I’ll call up Bev’s boyfriend and find them and go throw myself at Justin.  Maybe that’s the only way to get him.

Maybe if I just went down to Foot Locker now instead of going to get lunch and walked in and went up to him and said straight into his face, “Justin let’s fuck” then he’d do it.  Maybe I have to be a slut for him.

But I don’t want to be a slut.

I mean, I do, just for him, but in private.  I don’t want it to be this spoken thing that we like plan or schedule.  God I don’t even know.  He doesn’t even like me. He fucked some random girl this weekend and it shouldn’t matter and I should just get over it and stop being a pathetic little girl.

God, but then why did he ask me out?

He must of just saw through my bull shit and saw I was jealous and felt sorry for me.  That’s gotta be it. That’s the only answer.

I sigh and step up to the register, “Hey Jess, usual?”

I sigh and smile at the girl in front of me, Ginnie.  Our mall has a horrible food court but at least there’s a Panera there, and at least they have booths and stuff inside it so I don’t have to go out in the middle of the mall where everyone can see me eat.  I hate when people watch me eat.  Today though, I just wanna get back to the store and sit in the stock room and eat my soup and salad and, and I don’t know, maybe cry some more.  Maybe I should call Liz. She’ll make me feel better.   Yeah right, she’s like perfectly married and shit.

Hell, maybe I should quit.

Yeah, I should just quit today. Go ahead and get it over with.

“Yeah, to go please.”

She rings me up and tilts her head, “You alright girl?”

I pass Ginnie a small smile, “One of those days.”

“I hear ya.”

She hands me back my change and I walk down the counter, putting my money back in my purse and going to the “pick up” area to wait for my order.  I almost drop my little Styrofoam drink cup while putting everything back in.  Ugh, my nerves are just shattered.  I sigh and finally just stuff the cash in the purse instead of trying to put it back in my wallet.

Like.  God I don’t know. 

I guess he seemed sincere. He seemed upset that I was mad at him, but I…god I don’t even think I was mad at him.  Part of me was mad at myself for getting my hopes up, another part of me was jealous as hell and …and a small part was secretly loving the confused, pitiful look on his face.  God, I’m so bitchy, but he just looked so lost, like I had all the power to make it better.

And I wanted to.  I wanted to tell him to take me away with him, tell him I’d do whatever he wanted me to. 

But I didn’t want him to break my heart and I could feel it already happening.  It hasn’t gotten better as the days go on and that’s a very dangerous thing.  A stupid crush shouldn’t have the power to break my heart.

“Order for Jessica…”  I smile and step up and grab my large paper bag. At least I have my lunch.

“Thanks…” Great, now I’ll probably drop my drink.  I’ve got too much shit to juggle.  I walk over to the soda machine, clutching my purse and paper bag and I set down the cup while I hoist up my purse strap. 

God I probably even just look like a mess right now.  Ya know when you’re just so fucked in the head and you can just tell that everyone else can see right through you and you just look like you’re one big jumbled puzzle?  That’s what I am right now.

“Hey…”

I jump at the voice. And when I look beside me I see it’s, god, it’s him. There with a cup in his hand and his uniform on, black and white striped shirt, name tag nicely pinned against the right side of his chest.  I took my apron off before I came down here.  If you wear it around outside the store people assume you know everything about the mall and they’ll stop and ask you questions and tick away the time on your break.  It’s annoying.

But this look he’s giving me isn’t annoying. I want to just die in that look.  It’s pleading, it’s serious, and it’s…it’s so fucking sweet.

He’s fucking beautiful.

Damn those eyes.

Great.  Just fucking great.

“Hi.” I say curtly and work quickly to get some ice and Diet Coke in my cup.  I need to get out of here, fast.

Of course he’s here. Of course.

“I want you to come eat lunch with me.”

It’s not a question and the forcefulness of his tone kind of excites me.

I turn and look at him, shocked out of my mind.  His hand is now on my arm and he’s moving close to me, his other hand outreached refilling his cup with Sprite.

“Excuse me?”

“Jess, please.”  Oh my god, he’s begging.  He takes a swallow from his cup and I realize he’s tugging me out of the way while someone behind me fills up their drink.  I guess I was blocking the way, dumbfounded by this moment with him.  “I’m by myself over here in the corner and this old man is eating his lunch and staring at me and he has a Hitler mustache and I think he might kill me.”

I stare at him and he starts to smile just a little bit. 

I can’t stand it.  I start to smile and then I laugh.  “I hate you.”

“Why?”  He asks, still tugging me back into the back section of the dining area.  He’s got a little booth all to himself.  And there’s no old man in sight and I love the fact that he has such a horribly dorky imagination.  There’s a newspaper on Justin’s table, unfolded and a tray with a half eaten sandwich, a half eaten pickle, and an open bag of potato chips.

Even what he ordered is cute to me.  This is pathetic. Sick, that’s what it is. 

“‘Cause…‘cause you’re fucking adorable!”  I sigh and plop down, setting my cup and my bag of food on the table.  I can’t believe I’m here with him.

And I can’t believe that two hours ago I was bitching him out.

“I am?  I thought you were mad at me.”  He slides into the booth across from me.  Dammit, once again a counter separating us. 

“I am mad,” I say and pull out my soup and my salad from the bag.  He’s looking at my food as I pull it out.

I open up the plastic container holding my salad and start putting the dressing on it.  I always eat my salad before my soup; I’m weird and anal about very small insignificant things.  After a few bites I look up and he’s just staring at me, sandwich in his hand, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“So…talk,” he says.

I bust out laughing.  He’s so weird.  “What do you want to talk about?”

“Ok, fine. I’ll talk.”  He takes a big bite of his sandwich and sets it down before taking a huge gulp from his drink.  I’m kind of mad he tugged me over before I was able to get a lid and straw, but I see he’s the type that doesn’t like those things.  He likes taking long swallows, lips around the edge of the cup.  I bet he’s the type to crunch on ice.

I never thought I’d be jealous of a Styrofoam cup.

He sighs and looks right at me.  His face is flushed and his eyes look excited.  “If I ramble I’m sorry, I just...” He chuckles a little and makes a silly face.  “Sometimes I get nervous around you.  Because well, fine, I’m just gonna say it.”  He pauses and nods his head.  “I have to say it ‘cause everything today that happened kind of brought it to this crazy point and it needs to get said.”  He licks his lips and smiles.

He looks at the table for a moment and then moves his eyes so they are looking directly at me.  He says softly, “I like you and, and I kind of was starting to think you liked me, too.  But now I don’t know.  I went out this weekend and got wasted, like more than I have in a long time and there was this girl, and I don’t even know her name. Pete kept throwing her on me and I don’t remember doing anything with her. Pete says he’s pretty positive I didn’t do anything and the girl was all like bitchy and pissed the next morning and she told me I was a big loser because all I did the night before was sit around and talk about a girl named Jessica the whole time.”

My ears are ringing and I think I’ve lost the ability to speak.  I lick my lips and gulp.

I feel out of breath, giddy, and somehow completely calm.  He…he said it.

“I like you.”

Oh my god! Oh my god!  He fucking likes me!!!

Hell I don’t even know if I care if he did do something with some girl this weekend.  I don’t even think it matters!  He...he admitted it. He SAID it!  So, so I’m not crazy.  God I wonder if he thinks about me like I do him.

Breathe Jess, breathe.  I can’t go crazy.  If I do I might scare him off. 

I smile and play the dumb girl card, “What…”

He chews on his lip and smiles right at me.  And this time I don’t have to question it and I don’t have to tack it up to just being careless flirting.  He’s smiling at me because he fucking likes me.  “I’ve been trying to get the guts to ask you out for a really long time and I am a loser and I’ve been scared to.”

“You’re scared?”  I sit back and cover my mouth.  Scared?  Sexy, confident, flirty Justin…scared?  Of me?

And this whole time I just thought he was a nice, flirty guy, and…and he really likes me?

Oh my god. 

That’s it!

I want to fuck him.

Now. 

Right now.

I cross my legs and suppress the urge to squeal and lunge across the table.

“I didn’t want you to turn me down or something.  And...I don’t know, for the longest time I didn’t know if it was just a crush or …”  He doesn’t look at me and he bites a little bit of his sandwich and mumbles, “Or something else.”

I gulp.  Please…please be what I think it is.

Please tell me you wanna fuck me hard and fast in the bathroom right now.  ‘Cause I’ll do it.  I will.  I’ll leave my purse and my food and everything right here and stand up and go to the bathroom, men’s, women’s, I don’t care.  And I’ll go in a stall and wait for you and then you can come find me.  And I’ll just stand there and let you mold me into the shape you want and I’ll have to bite your shoulder so I won’t scream.

“S-something else?”  I ask, feeling myself start to get flustered.

“But it’s cool…” He’s still rambling.  Does… I almost giggle.  Does he even know I’m really here?  I mean, hello, I’m here, you’re talking to me.  Can’t you see that I’m about to have an orgasm just listening to you talk!  “I mean I just wanted to let you know that ‘cause I didn’t want you thinking I really was a male whore.  But you got a hot date this weekend so whatever.  It’s all good.”

I can’t control myself and the way he’s pouting and looking down at his plate.  I reach over and grab his wrist and say to him, staring right at him, “I was lying.”

“You…you were?”  I’ve never heard him stutter.  God this man really does like me.  I squeeze his arm.

“I was jealous and upset.”  I pull my hand away. I can feel his pulse and it’s...it’s making me sweat.  I want to make his heart pound.  I want to make his blood pump so hard his dick twitches.

I giggle.

“Oh.”  He stares for a second and then slowly starts to smile.

I don’t say anything.  And I just watch him.  He can’t even really look at me.  And he’s smiling to himself and laughing very softly.  He scratches the back of his head and drums his fingers against the counter.

He’s jittery and happy and he knows now that I like him, too.

And…and it’s over.  Just over.  All the drama and the anxiousness and the hopes and all that build up are over.  And we’re left now here, quiet, awkward, and giddy, and completely unsure of what to do.

He catches me staring, but I don’t feel ashamed and I just smile and don’t look away.

“So…”

I roll my eyes, laugh and say, “So, I love my new sneakers.”  It’s weird.  It’s like there’s this calm or something over us.  I mean he hasn’t asked me out and nothing really has changed.

And yet everything has. 

I bring my spoon to my lips and sip my soup. It’s still hot, but comforting and yummy.

Like him.

“Do you now?”

“Mmm they’re comfy.”

I watch him eat a couple potato chips and he asks me, “So how was all the birthday party fun?”

It’s weird, it’s like we’re old friends now.  Like we know all about each other.

And all I know is that he’s Justin. He’s sexy and attractive and manages a store, and I want to fuck him and he likes me.

And that’s good enough for me.

“Well Friday night I went over to Liz’s and we drank a lot as well, but I didn’t have skanks all up on me.  Instead we watched Spice World and went to bed at 11 o’clock.”

“Spice World??” He shrugs. “That is kind of skanky.”

I laugh, “Saturday we went out with my parents and it was fun.  Yay, family time.  And like I predicted, Sunday I spent the entire day doing laundry.”

All of a sudden he’s picking up his papers and folding them a little bit and chewing on his lip again.  Hmm, it’s intriguing.  Why’s he so jittery again?

I keep eating my soup and watching him. Suddenly he looks at me, sucks in a breath, and leans forward, “So when you said you were jealous and upset that does mean you like me back, right?”

I just laugh.

“Girl, don’t play these games.  We’ve been flirting for almost six months now.  And it’s not like my regular flirting.  I mean, why do you think I come to your store everyday?  Why do you think it took us more than an hour to buy two pairs of shoes yesterday?”  I’ve stopped my laughing and I’m just staring at him, now.  He’s still leaning across the table and I want him further, I want him beside me, on top of me. 

I want to go home with him now.  My brother would be gone I’m sure and we could just fall back on my unmade bed. He could undress me and enter me all swift and slick, but I bet he’d have sex with me real, real slow, making it last and last until both of us were covered in sweat and panting. 

And all of a sudden we’d just start going at it hard and we’d both come in a matter of seconds.

And then I could lay there and hold him against me and take a nap.

Heaven, that’s what that would be.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

I gulp and refocus my eyes on him.  The fantasies are still there.  God, what if we do start dating, but like, it’s slow, like what if he takes it slow?  I don’t wanna be the whore and like attack him on the first date.  What if he’s a virgin?

I giggle and ask, “What?”  I don’t think I’ve really been paying much attention to what he’s been saying.

“Come out with me Friday night, there’s this party I have to go to.”

Shit, that’d be great and relaxed.  A party would be wonderful because there’d be other people and we wouldn’t have to be all awkward and panicky over dinner and what happens afterward.  We could just get drunk and…

And have hot, plastered, dizzy, I don’t even know what I’m doing sex.

But that’s Liz and Rich’s anniversary party. “I have plans.”

“Come on Jess, just give me a try.”

I sigh, “No it’s not that I don’t want to.  I actually really, really wanna go out with you.  It’s just that my friends are having their first year anniversary and instead of like going out to eat together all romantic like normal people, they wanna have all their friends over and get drunk.”

I laugh and he just stares at me.  He looks a little lost.  He just blinks.  “What?”

“I know they’re crazy,” I say and laugh.  I wonder what Justin would wanna do on an anniversary.  I know what I’d want to do.  I’d want to get dressed up and go out and sometime in the night casually mention to him that I’m not wearing any panties and that when we get home I expected to be fucked in every room of the house.

Even the coat closet.

Hot and musty and crowded and stuffy.  Me gripping the bar where the coats are, coats piled on the floor where we pushed them off their hangers, and him holding my leg over his hip, deep, deep inside, me still in my dress, him still in his button down shirt.

“No…”  He’s staring at me seriously, eyebrows narrowed a little, almost interrogating me.  “Who are your friends?”

I sit back a little and say, “It’s my best friend Liz and her husband, Rich.”

“You’re kidding.”  He starts laughing and sits back against the booth just staring at me with an amazed smile.  “Liz Snider?”

I lean forward.  Holy shit.  “Don’t tell me you know her!”  Shit, if she’s known Justin all this time and known he’s the one I’ve been lusting after I’m going to kill her. 

“Rich is my second cousin.”

“No way!   Were…were you at the wedding?” Dammit, I know our town isn’t the biggest city in the world but it’s not super small or anything.  And, and I was one of Liz’s bridesmaids.  Don’t tell me he was there in a suit and I missed it!

“No.  I was supposed to be, but Pete’s a big Miami Heat fan and we went down there for a game and some vacation. So the day we were supposed to fly back there was a tropical storm or something and we were delayed two days and I missed it.”

What if he had been there?  Oh my god what if he were there and me and him met and danced and drank and threw confetti at Liz and Rich as they left and he came up beside me and whispered, “Do you want to come back to my place?”

And we’d not even make it to the car.   The parking lot would be dark and I’d be pinned against the passenger door, glancing around for other partiers, breathing all hard and deep. And I’d look down and see him there on his knees, my hands fisted in his hair, my right leg dangling over his shoulder.  My dress would be bunched up at the waist and his tongue would be gently licking me up and down, biting on the folds slightly…sucking on my clit.

I cough and say quietly, “Small world.”

“So…so you’re gonna be at the party?”

“Yeah…”

I smile and he smiles and we both know what this means.

We’re gonna be drunk and there will be no counters.  I’ll get to see what he wears outside of work.  I’ll get to see him drunk.  Maybe, maybe I’ll even get to dance with him.

“Well then, I guess I’ll see you there.”

I smile and he takes another bite of his meal.  God, even when he eats he’s hot.

“How’s your sandwich?” I ask.

“Flippin’ awesome.” I laugh at him. “Wanna bite?”

“Ok.” He reaches over and I almost panic.

He...he fucking feeds me.

I seriously think I have an orgasm when I bite down on the bread and stare at him, mouth opened just slightly, smiling.  And I don’t even like ham sandwiches that much. 

I lick my lips and moan a little, not because of the sandwich; because of all the dirty ideas running through my mind about him and food and tasting…things.  “See…” I smile at him, giving him a flirtatious look.  “You do know how to share your food.”

“Reese’s aren’t food, they’re mini orgasms.” I seriously start to choke a little.  I stare at him.  Fucking shit he can’t say that.  “You alright?” He smiles.

“You’re bad.” I glare.

“I didn’t do anything.”

He’s smiling underneath that innocent face.  Bastard. I want you to do everything, dammit!

“Ya know my foot could get very adventurous under this table and then what would you do?”

“I…”  He stops for a moment and looks down at his lap and then back at me.  I just smile.  I’d love to give his crotch a little rub of my foot.  Get him all fucking hard and horny and leave him there.  Like he does to me whenever he just, I don’t know, looks at me.  “You’re…you’re not going to, are you?”

I fake gasp and put my hand against my chest, “We haven’t even been on a date yet Justin. I’m appalled.”

“This is a date.”

I laugh. “This is Panera.  This is a lunch break.”

“It’s a lunch date.”  He smiles like he’s a kindergarten kid who just got a “good job” sticker on their alphabet test.

“You didn’t buy my food, though,” I whine.

“I thought you’d be one of those feminist, in control types.”

In control? I can be, if he likes that, I mean I don’t mind being on top at all.  Secretly, I love it when a guy’s in control.  When he teases and tortures just slightly.  Not like actually whips and chains but just making it last.  Making me whine, making me squirm on the bed and say, “please…please Justin, I want you in me.” 

And then he just surges in and just stays there and holds my hips so I can’t move.

And then, then real, real slow, he starts inching out and them slamming back in, holding it, making me lose all my breath.

“I’ll take a free meal from a fine guy,” I say. This is rising to a dangerous level now.

He tilts his head and licks his bottom lip.  Fuckin’ hell I need his head in between my thighs.  “You think I’m fine, eh?”

“Shush.”

I reach over and snatch a potato chip from his plate, but he grabs my hand and smiles.  He, fuck, he brings my hand to his mouth and bites the chip out of my fingers.  It should be weird, it should freak me out; I should jerk my hand away and give him a crazy look.

But god, I’m so turned on.  Please, please lick the salt off my fingers. “You’re the one that said it,” he almost growls out.  He lets go of my wrist. Dammit!

I pull my hand back quickly and say, “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Why?”  I honestly don’t know why I’m embarrassed. Maybe it’s not embarrassment.  Maybe I’m just being silly.  But I know, right now in this moment, he can see through me and he knows that I want his dick so bad.  “There’s no reason to be embarrassed anymore now that we both know we got the hots for each other.”

 I’m not even sure why but my face feels hot and I know it’s red. “Just stop. Ok?”

“Why?” He leans forward, blue eyes deep and dark.  He bites the corner of his bottom lip and whispers, “We can take care of this right now and go have sex in my car.”

He pronounced the word sex, harshly, strongly.

I feel light headed.

“Seriously…”  I narrow my eyes.  He has got to fucking stop.

“I’m sorry.”  He laughs a little but seems sincere and sits back up.  “That was out of line.”

“You just.  Ok…”  I take a deep breath and relax against the cushioned seat. “Friday. Alright? Friday at the party we’ll figure this out, if there is a this or whatever, ok?  I just can’t handle this during the work week.  It’s gonna get me flustered and put me in a tizzy and I already have got too much to think about.”

“Ok, it’s cool.”  He smiles and nods, clucking to himself.  God he’s such an ass.  He looks so fucking cocky right now.  And it’s sexy as hell.  “I gotta test Thursday night anyway and since I was sleeping with two cent whores all weekend I really need to study tonight and tomorrow.” I roll my eyes at him.  “So Friday we’ll get to talk and maybe we’ll see if I can take you out, just us on Saturday, and then we can make out and shit.”

“Justin!” I smack my hands on the table.  I’m excited as hell. Oh my god, I want it to be Friday now.  I can’t believe we’re scheduling it. 

Oh my god.  Oh my god what if we actually go through with it?

Like, what if he wants to have sex with me on Friday?

I mean I should probably wait, right?  Like play hard to get.

Calm down Jess, calm down.  You’re getting too excited and it’s starting to show.

“I’m teasing.” He winks.

No, no I’m gonna do it.  If he just says, “Jess I like ya, but honestly I just wanna fuck you,” I’ll say ok.  I don’t care if my heart is broken.

I need this man.

“No you aren’t.” I tease back.

He has a cocky look on his face and it’s so damn sexy. “You know you wanna make out.”

“I’ve got to get back to work soon and you haven’t even let me eat!”  I look down to my half eaten food. I’m still hungry, but I don’t even know if I can finish it.  I’m just too excited.

“Ok, eat. I’ll just watch.”

He props his head up with his hand and just stares at me.  God I really do hate it when people look at me when I eat, even if it’s him! “Justin…”

My stomach feels like mush.  God my whole body does.  Yet my throat and my heart are like fluttering and shit.

“Ok ok, I’ll read my paper.”  He laughs and pulls the paper out.  Why is it sexy for him to read the paper?  I can see it on late Sunday mornings, coming down from the bed and he’s at the table in an undershirt and his underwear, coffee mug in his hand, reading the paper.  And I’d kiss his face, stubble all rough against my lips. He’d say “morning” all gravelly and deep and sexy. And I’d sit down on his lap, straddling him, holding onto him and whispering to him, “Come back to bed.”

I could get use to this.  I could get use to just sitting here eating lunch while he reads the paper.  This…this is what I want.  I want the crazy sex fantasies, too, but…but I want these simple things as well.  I want the sexy, hot, cocky, perverted Justin.

And I also want the sweet, sensitive, goofy Justin.

And…and now I don’t know what to think and I’m not sure how to act, ‘cause, well, it might just happen. I might just get all the things I want.