He calls and I come running. Who ever would have predicted that shit? Certainly not me.
Well for the sake of my pride, I have to say that I didn't run. I simply dropped everything I was doing, which wasn't a lot mind you, to come over to Justin's place. Just because he called and said he wanted to see me. I came.
Goddamn it, I must be sick or something. Maybe I should go see a doctor.
Ringing the doorbell over and over, purposefully trying to be obnoxious to piss him off so as to reclaim some of the old me, I waited outside the door of his ridiculously expensive house which rested on the top a hill which my poor old '89 Mazda Hatchback barely was about to sputter and shudder to the top of. Leaning hard on the buzzer for the third time, I decided if he didn't come to the door this time I was going to turn around and leave. Not peacefully, not quietly, but I was going to leave. Shit, gas was expensive. I couldn't afford to drive around for luxury.
At the end of the third ring, I cursed the door and stupid bastard who had yet to open it and turned on my Nike heel to head back to my car. I was half-way down the driveway, when I heard, "Sorry 'bout that. I was on the other side of the house and started jogging on the second ring."
I was going to turn and tell him how this wouldn't be a problem if his house wasn't big enough to need a map and compass to navigate through, but when I turned around to face him, the sarcasm died in my throat.
Standing in the doorway, naked from the waist up was Richard. His face wrapped in its usual warm smile, flashing bright white dentist praise worthy teeth. But for once his smile and even his beautiful emerald green eyes were bypassable features. I felt my mouth go cotton ball dry as I tried to force my eyes away from the ripples of his abdomen. Unfortunately my eyes didn't seem to understand that moving away from his chest was the plan, but not by moving south.
His basketball shorts were riding low on his hips, I couldn't make out any underwear and my mind started to wonder and that's about the time that I heard a sound like someone clearing their throat.
Reluctantly my eyes got the hint and trailed up, slowly, to meet his amused gaze.
I'd been cold busted. Not that I'd been smooth enough to even bother with hiding the fact that I was checking him out, but that little fact didn't help stop the heat from rising to my face. I tried to force my gaping mouth into a smile, but judging from the effort it took to do so, I'm sure it came off awkwardly.
This would have been the perfect time for a giant hole to open up and suck my pathetic ass in.
"Are you going to come in?" he asked, his eyes still glimmering with laughter. I'm glad that my chagrin is entertaining to him.
Shaking my head, I tried to snap myself out of the last of the stupor. "Y-yeah, of course." I said, following him inside, trying hard but failing not to admire his tushy as he sauntered in front of me. When he turned around unexpectedly, a knowing smile graced his lips, which again sent the heat of embarrassment rushing up to my face as my eyes fell to the floor searching for that damn hole.
He watched me for a moment in silence. It didn't feel like he was checking me out, but then again I don't think I've ever had a guy check me out openly to know what exactly that feels like. Opting to exercise my right to remain silence, I focused on trying to calm down the rapid beating of my heart. Was it normal to be this nervous around someone?
"Justin just stepped out a minute ago." Richard said, after he'd sufficiently made me squirm. "I think he's running some kind of errand. I dunno," he shrugged, the up and down movement bringing my attention to the masculine broadness of his shoulders. "He didn't really say."
"Oh, ok." I nodded. "Then I'll just come back later then." I said, my feet already leading me towards the door.
"I don't have cooties."
First embarrassment, now confusion—I get all the cool emotions to be my friends. Turning to face him, I said, "Huh?"
He grinned, a quick flash of pearly whites at its best. "Just in case that's what you were thinking while you were dashing toward the door."
Heat was rushing up my face again—surprise, surprise. Me, embarrassed? "I...uh, I..."
His smile grew an inch to the left, as if my brilliant articulation of my thoughts impressed him. "He should be back soon. You might as well just hang around and wait." When I was still standing closer to the door than to him, he added, "The whole reason I'm even still here is because of you anyways. I've been waiting on you."
His calm green eyes stayed steady on me as if he couldn't find anything better to stare at if he tried. His smile was still there, a little more hidden, but every bit as tantalizing.
Even if I had wanted my lips to not be so damn predictable, I couldn't have helped but smile back at him. The man was just charming, effortlessly. "Really?"
Inside my head and upon later reflection I would cringe at the hopeful lilt in my voice, but there, in that moment, all I could do was smile. A big, goofy, cheeseball smile.
"Yeah, Justin wanted to me stay so that you wouldn't run off just because he wasn't here. His words."
My smile fell almost as quickly and easily as it had risen. "Oh," I sighed, unable to hide my disappointment.
And just as soon as we'd stepped out our awkward silence, it has once again descended upon us.
Small talk, small talk, small talk—that's what my mind kept encouraging me to do. Engage him in small talk. But that was way easier thought than done, my small talk skills were horrible at best. Even if he got the proverbial ball rolling, I would still fumble it. Or worse yet, run with it in the wrong direction.
Sports weren't my thing either.
But apparently awkward silences were.
Glancing back at him, I found him to be staring at me, which made the silence feel more awkward and more silent.
Ah and there it is—self-consciousness. I was beginning to wonder when that old pal would show up. But it was just like Old Faithful, give it some time and it was bound to sprout up.
Now here was I, self-consciousness, awkward and silent, praying to God, who was probably had me on permanent hold, that some brilliant conversation starter would strike me. A few shuffled feet later and I realized that the muzak was playing and I was on my own. Great.
"So is it just me, or did it just get really awkward?"
Looking at him and his playful boyish grin, I found that damn goofy cornball smile taking root on my mouth again. "Just? I'd say we'd already been there, done that. And now we're going back for seconds."
He laughed. His laugh sounded like pure joy, it was the kind of sound that should be kept bottled up and released to the ears of cancer patients as a cure. I felt lighter, happier just hearing it.
"So..." He smiled.
"So..." I smiled.
"So, so, so..."
"So when did you say that Justin was going to be back?" And as soon as I said it, I realized the mistake I'd made. Richard and I were having a moment, awkward, yes, but a moment nevertheless. And then what did I have to do? Go and open my big mouth and drop the one name that could fuck it all up: Justin, my dear fake boyfriend.
His smile dimmed, but was too resilient to die completely. "Soon."
"Helpful." I grinned, rolling my eyes. "Very helpful."
"That's me." He grinned. "Helpful."
"My cheeks are starting to hurt."
A frown swept across his face, but somehow his smile grew.
"The ones in my face." I laughed, rolling my eyes again.
"Why are they hurting?"
I shrugged. "Smiling too much, I guess."
He just watched me for a moment. But this time the silence didn't feel awkward, it was comfortable. Something you could relax in. "Yeah, now that you mention it, mine do hurt a little."
"As hard as you've been grinning I'm surprised that little, isn't a lot."
"Okay," he laughed that joyous straight from the belly laugh. "You got me. I was just trying to save face. I can't help it that you make me smile so damn much."
That's all it took to bring the shit-eating smile back to my face. And God help me if I didn't like it. "I make you smile, huh?"
"Afraid so." he said, solemnly. His face only able to maintain a seriousness for a moment, before his ear to ear grin broke loose. "It's hurting my bad boy image."
Giggles rolled out of my throat before I could stop them. Girly little giggles as if someone had tickled me.
"You're laughing." He said, not making it a question. There was a faint hint of hurt behind his words that I wasn't sure was real or not, but it was enough to make me want to choke back the laughter.
"You're not." I said, trying to stifle the oncoming chuckles.
Watching my struggle, he lost his own battle with the giggles and before I knew it we were both rolling with laughter. Nothing was said that was that funny, but laughter sure beats the hell out of awkward silence.
One minute I'm upright and every hominid's bipedal dream, the next I'm flailing. In slow motion. That's how all the good and embarrassing falls happen, nice and slow. That way you have time to think about how much it's going to potentially hurt to have your face collide into the ground, how much it's going to hurt your pride to realize that someone else was there to witness the collision. Thankfully for me, my someone else didn't merely just witness my grace, he moved in, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me away from my gravity lesson.
Held up by only the strength in his arms alone, I should have been humiliated for what had almost happened. And maybe I would have been it wasn't for the fact that I was all too aware of how close he was to me. How close his naked upper half was to me. Nearly pressed flush against me.
It was a struggle, but somehow I managed to tear my eyes away from his chest to meet those emerald green eyes of his. Those kind, sweet, gentle eyes were locked on mine, his face so close now that if I took a deep breath I might have closed the gap between us.
That's when the front door opened. That's when Justin burst in talking loudly about something, as if we were all already in the conversation.
I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. He'd seen the two of us together and stopped in his tracks, his arms crossing at his chest, his mouth opening and closing but no sound escaping now.
He was giving me the boyfriend look. Not that I could recognize it from my own experience, but I'd watch enough Lifetime movies to know what it looked like. He wasn't pleased with what he was seeing. Realizing I was still in Richard's arm, I felt the heat rising to my face yet again as I pushed away, standing on my own two feet. I jogged over to Justin, wrapping my arms around him, feeling like I needed to make it right, even though I didn't feel wrong per se.
Justin reluctantly wrapped his arms around me, but eyes stayed narrowed in on Richard. Richard remained standing where he was, not moving for a few seconds. Finally a small smile and soft, short laughter that sounded nervous now where it had previously been joyous climbed out of the blankness of his face as he excused himself.
As much as I wanted to walk him to the door, I stayed in Justin's arms instead. Keeping my fake girlfriend loyalties in tact. But once I heard the door close behind Richard, I was quick to turn on Justin, pinching him in his sides. "You just had to come at that time, didn't you?"
I had started to move away from him, when he suddenly reached out for me--pulling me back to him, against him. In a sort of dip, my body weight supported by his arms, he kissed me long and hard as if he had to prove something. But what and to whom?
When the kiss ended, it was he who ended it and it was I who stumbled away. My grace never failed me as I bumbled my way to a seat on the nearest couch. I took a moment to collect myself from the unexpected heat of his kiss. I felt like I needed to recover, like I was in shock. And maybe in a tiny way I was, it was like there had been electricity there when our lips met. It was breathtaking in almost a scary way. I'd never felt anything like it before.
I wasn't sure I like that or not.
My mind was moving too fast, bouncing between the kiss and image of Richard's shirtless body so very close to mine. I still didn't know why he was shirtless, but truth be told I didn't really give a damn either.
When I finally looked back at Justin, he was standing in the same spot I'd left him, looking nearly bored as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And maybe it hadn't, maybe only in my mind it had been sensationalized. But luckily, I didn't get to ponder on it for too long, before Justin spoke up again.
"I can't let y'all get together so soon." He said, sounding almost apologetic. "I gotta make sure Janice is going along with the program first."
"Oh, so because your life sucks, mine has to, too?" I said, glad to find my voice wasn't shaky.
He didn't say anything for a moment, as if he was considering it. "Yeah," he finally nodded with the barest of smiles. "Pretty much."
"Whatever." I laughed, rolling my eyes. "What did you get me?" I asked, pointing to the shopping bags at his feet.
"I ain't saying she's a gold-digger..." he laughed, doing Kanye's lean back dance. And despite his return to oddness, I was definitely glad to see him acting 'normal' again. Serious Justin worried me. "Don't worry about it, nosey." he added, taking the bags and going off into the massive house to hide them away.
I stayed where I was seated on the couch, lounging in front of the TV—waiting until the weird one returned. "So what am I doing here?" I asked him as soon as I heard his footfalls nearby.
"That's just what I was about to ask you." he said, plopping down the couch beside me.
"Shuddup. You know you called me, begging me to come over here."
He scoffed. "Justin Timberlake does not beg."
"Okay, my bad. I meant, you know you called me, whining for me to come over here."
A broad grin skipped across his face, exuding a boyish charm. "Don't act like you don't like my company."
I guess it would have been pointless for me to deny that, considering how much time we'd been spending together lately. Where there was a party, a mall, a social event in general—there was Justin and I. Usually Justin followed by a forced and/or tricked into being there moi. I didn't enjoy shopping, partying or socializing in general, but that's not to say that I didn't enjoy spending time with him. He was so goofy sometimes—most of the time—that I spent most of my time just laughing at him, but letting him think I was laughing with him.
I'd even agreed to do things that I usually would have never done: hiking, canoeing, jet skiing. Justin was the adventurous type and he was trying very hard to get me to become his mini-me in that sense while I was trying very hard not to be. I didn't want one of his little adventures getting me on an episode of I Shouldn't Be Alive or When Animals Attack.
"Anyways, I did get us something though."
"Us?"
"Yes, us." He grinned and his smile worried me. He strolled away without another word to get whatever it was, returning minutes later with the mysterious something behind his back. "Close your eyes." he said.
I frowned. "Why?"
"Why not?" he frowned back, impatiently. "Just do it."
I watched him for a few silent moments longer, but eventually relented and closed my eyes. Hearing him fumbling with something, I really wanted to peek.
He must have noticed this because he was quick to say, "You better not think about peeking either."
Scoffing I said, "What, kind of fake girlfriend do you take me for?" I laughed, wanting to roll my eyes but not knowing how with them closed. "Of course I would never do such a thing."
A few more silent moments passed before he said, "Okay, open 'em."
Opening my eyes, I was expecting to be dazzled, but instead I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"Oow. Aww." I said, unenthusiastically swooning for air and space. "You've outdone yourself this time, Timberlake."
Rolling his eyes, he stepped to the side, allowing the TV to come into view. Some animated movie was on. A donkey and a green monster were walking through the forest.
The was an expectant waiting pause in our conversation as Justin stared at me and I stared right back, before he finally cried, "It's Shrek!"
"Oh my god, you're right! It is Shrek!!" I squealed, eyebrows arched in confusion. "Who's Shrek?"
He sighed, his enthusiasm successfully derailed. "It's our movie."
"Okay," I said, still not completely over the fence as far as confusion was concerned. "So which one am I? The wise-cracking jackass or the ugly green monster?"
"Shrek's not a monster. He's an Ogre. That's me. Remember the onion, layer thing we were talking about a while back?"
I can't even remember what I had for breakfast so I'm gonna have to go with a 'no' on that one. "So I'm the jackass?"
"You sound confused." He laughed as if there was no other option. "You're the Princess. Princess Fiona."
"Clever." I smiled, shaking my finger at him. "With smarts like that it's no wonder your lyrics are so deep."
A half smirk crept up on his features. "You already got me, Sugar Pie. No need to butter me up anymore."
"Oh, I got ya butter right here." I smiled, shaking my fist at him playfully.
Yawning at me, I don't think he took my threat seriously as he leaned forward and gently, fleeting pressed his soft lips to my knuckles. "Later for that." He said, grabbing the remote and turning the movie on without another word.
The opening credits rolling now, he leaned back into the couch, his arm casually draping over me, behind my shoulders for a moment, before falling down on me and pulling me against his side. I was going to resist, was going to push away, but those 'was going to's, quickly turned into 'didn't do's when I realized how tired I was. Plus I had to admit that lying in a handsome man's arms wasn't completely uncomfortable, even if that man happened to be Justin.
The movie was more than halfway through and Justin had fallen asleep minutes ago. His head resting close to my shoulder as he snored softly. Hearing the doorbell ring, I sighed and tried to wake him up. All this did was cause him to settle down on the other end of the couch, still asleep.
Frowning at his sleeping form, I forced myself up from the couch to answer the door. Who would be ringing Justin's doorbell at this hour?
I glanced at a clock as I walked through the kitchen, finding that this hour was only seven-thirty-eight p.m., even though it felt so much later. When I opened the door, I was met with a very short man dressed with dark brown hair cut into a hobbit style, who was standing just outside the door in dark overalls that were paint splattered. He was carrying a package, so I assumed he was a deliveryman.
"Are you Fi?" He said, not wasting time with greetings.
"No."
The man looked confused. Lowering his head to check a piece of paper, he looked back up at me as if to confirm. "I was told specifically to deliver this to this address to a Fi."
"What I meant was I'm not Fi. I'm Fi-on-na."
Clearly not in the mood for this, the hobbit haired man sighed and shoved the small package into my hands. "Well, in that case, Fi-on-na. This is for you." He said, walking away but turning around momentarily to add, "And by the way, tell Justin that he owes me. Just say 'painting walls' and he'll know what I'm talking about."
And with that, the hobbit got into his car, which was definitely far above delivery man status, a drive off into the night.
Closing the door and walking back into the room where I'd left Justin, I didn't hesitate to shake him awake. "What is this?"
His face scrunched up into an immediate frown as he slowly opened his eyes, noticing me hovering over him. "I dunno, looks like a box to me." He said, rubbing his eyes.
"What did you do?"
For most women a small gift box brings smiles and giggles. For me it brings frowns and suspicion.
I was still staring at it like I hadn't quite ruled out the possibility that there was anthrax inside, when he said, "I didn't do anything, but accidentally fall asleep on the movie and then you started shaking me awake to ask me silly questions about boxes."
I silently watched him for a moment, before bringing the box to my ears.
"It's not a bomb." he said, rolling eyes. "Just open it."
I just continued to watch him for a moment longer. Realizing that if I didn't look away soon this was going to become a staring contest, I decided to just open the box.
"Why did you get this?" I asked, staring at the diamond heart necklace that lay inside the black box.
A slow smile broke out across his face as if he wasn't surprised by my reaction in the slightest. "That's the strangest thank you I've ever heard."
"Thank you." I said. "Now why did you get this?"
"Because every kiss begins with Kay."
"Commercial quoting, cute. But I know you didn't do this for a damn kiss. Now why did you get this?"
"If I said it was to show symbolically what you'd already done literally would you call me corny?"
"Depends. What is it symbolizing?"
"You've got my heart."
"In that case, yes I would call you corny and rightfully so."
He shrugged. "Then it's just something to tell Janice. She might not think it's corny."
I stared at him for a moment, something about him seemed different. Less than confident, maybe. Something was off. Frowning at the diamond heart necklace, I sighed. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
He laughed softly. Shaking his head, he said, "Does it make a difference?"
"Would you call me soft if I said yes?"
He quietly considered it, his deep blue eyes locked on me all the while. "No."
"Then, yes, it does make a difference."
He smiled broad and easy and as horrible as it sounds I think just the sight of it actually warmed my heart. He opened his arms to me and I just stayed where I was standing, watching him. "Sugar Pie don't make me beg." he said, fingers wiggling at me encouraging me to come closer.
I did.
Pressing his lips gently against my temples, he said, "Maybe I did get it just for a damn kiss."
There was a beautiful blonde sprawled across the bed.
"He's spoiling you." Janice said, laying on the bed, reading some women's magazine about how to get a man, how to keep a man, how to satisfy your man, how to lose yourself in every media imposed facade for the sake of a man.
Did I mention the blonde was female? Of course, it would be female. The last time I'd had a beautiful man sprawled across a bed was...
Actually, I'd never had a beautiful man sprawled across a bed. And with me being the guy magnet that I am, I'm sure this little revelation was shocking to say the least.
Hearing Janice's voice caused me to turn to look at her. For a moment, I'd forgotten that she was there. Which was strange since this was her room that I'd only come into to show off the new diamond heart shaped necklace Justin had gotten me and lay on the cheese about how this symbolized how I've got his heart. I did manage to stay focused on the task at hand long enough to tell her though, but I guess after that I'd gotten distracted by the necklace. The more I looked at it the more pretty it became. His heart around my neck? It sounded gruesome in a wholesome way, romantic. But hey, what did I know about romance anyways?
"I know." I said, still staring at my gift as it hung from around my neck through Janice's large vanity mirror. "Isn't it great?"
"Do you love him?"
Her question kind of threw me off for a moment. I'd been expecting her to gush about the present, to tell me how cute it was. For her to giggle for me and want to know all the details about how he'd given it to me and what he'd said as he did. Instead all I'd gotten was a reaction that was more typical me than her: slightly bored and unimpressed.
"Random." I frowned, watching her through the mirror now.
"Just answer the question." She persisted, sitting up.
My frown only deepened as I continued to watch her through the mirror, before facing her. "What difference does it make? Am I supposed to love him just because he likes to surprise me with everything from just him showing up places to this necklace? Am I supposed to love him just because he annoys the shit outta me, yet I can't think of a better way to spend my time than with him? Am I supposed to love him just because when I'm with him he makes me feel like I'm the most important person in his world? Am I supposed to love him just because of that?" I laughed. Of course I was pouring it on extra thick for Janice's benefit, because naturally I didn't mean a word of it.
Janice just rolled her eyes and picked up her magazine again. Pretending to read it. I knew she was pretending because she kept flipping through the pages too fast to be actually reading anything.
Finally she said, "Who do you think is cuter, Jude Law or Justin?"
Janice liked to play these stupid little 'Who's Cuter' games--it was like fourth grade all over again. All I needed was a bop magazine, a metal-mouth smile and an underqualified for the position training bra.
"Justin."
"Ryan Phillippe or Justin?"
"Justin."
"Okay." She nodded, pausing like she's about to give me a really hard one now. "Richard or Justin?"
I paused for the first time, wondering if this was a trick question. "Not even comparable."
"Why not? They're both hot." She said, flashing the first smile since I'd walked into her room. I guess even nice, happy, bubbly people didn't take too kindly to bragging. "Justin's hot in an obvious way. You just look at him and there it is--hotness. A total eye candy hottie. But Richard? His is more on a need to get to know him better basis. Yeah sure, he's cute. Kinda dorky at moments, but nevertheless cute. But not hot. Not like Justin. There's something about him though. Something I haven't quite put my finger on yet, but that Richard..." She trailed off for a moment with a spreading smile. "I think he's growing on me."
Defensive, protective and slightly annoyed--I was feeling all of the above about both of the aforementioned men so instead of continuing down that conversation road I changed the subject. Walking over to her high school wall of fame, in which she'd framed picture after picture of her accomplishments, my eyes settled on the one I'd stared at the most.
Small town homecoming queen
She's the star in this scene
"I didn't know you were homecoming queen." I said, even though I did know. Not only because of the picture on the wall, but simply because one day not longer after I'd moved in she'd brought me in to 'share' as she liked to call it. A way for us to get to know each other better. Her 'sharing' shouldn't dangerously close to straight out bragging to me, but I'd listen. When dealing with someone who loves to talk, especially about themselves, there's noting you can do but listen. They don't really leave the option open for anything else anyways.
And even though I knew we'd gone over every picture, every story behind the picture, I knew all I had to do was mention them again and she'd retell it as if it was the first time.
There’s no way to deny she's lovely
Perfect skin, perfect hair
"Yeah and you'd probably be surprised to know that I wasn't a shoo-in to win." She said, smiling. That was humility at its best for her. I wanted to be annoyed, to roll my eyes and wonder why I'd allow myself to be friends with someone so conceited. But thing is she's really not all that conceited, looking at her she has a lot of reasons to be conceited. Long tanned legs, beautiful Colgate smile, and the combination of blonde hair and blue eyes that, that right there would have been enough for most guys. Plus she has this energy. This bopping, excited, always glad to see you energy. I would say it's contagious, but since I've never caught it either I'm strongly immune to it, or it's just something she unconsciously uses to lure suspecting y-chromosomes carriers to her.
Perfumed hearts everywhere
Tell myself that inside she's ugly
Maybe I'm just jealous
"I was also class president." She said, easily moving along onto the next picture. Beauty and a fully functioning brain some bitches have all the luck. "I think that's what I'm most proud of. Yeah, I was a cheerleader too." She said, pointing to another picture. "Head cheerleader. But since I was never attracted to the jocks I had to get involved with something that wasn't a popularity contest, y'know? Something that someone with more than the right looks could achieve."
I can't help but hate her
Secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her
You see what I'm dealing with here? An ex-head cheer freak, homecoming queen and class president to boot. You know what I did during high school? I wasn't one of those cool anti-social types who dress in all black and smoke in the bathroom. No, no, I was even better, I was a band geek. A band geek who sometimes fell in with the drama nerds. A band geek, sometime-y drama nerd, who spent her free time with a camera attached to her right hand snapping pictures at random and a paintbrush attached to her left.
She is the prom queen; I'm in the marching band
She is a cheerleader; I'm sittin' in the stands
She gets the top bunk; I'm sleepin' on the floor
She's Miss America and I'm just the girl next door
And the worst part was that I didn't even really fit in with the band geeks, drama nerds or artsy fartsy types. I rejected the labels and did my own thing, which roughly translated to sitting alone at lunch with fewer friends than a new kid on his or her first day.
Senior class president
She must be heaven sent
Even the damn new kids were quick to dismiss me because I didn't fit into the social hierarchy the way everyone else seemed to, so that I wouldn't have been much help for them to find their own label.
She was never the last one standing
A backseat debutant
Everything that you want
I tried hanging out with non-conformists for awhile, but eventually gave up on them when I realized that 'anarchy' was just a word on their shirt because they didn't really have a clue what it actually meant. Besides to hang with them meant I was going to have to conform to their ways of thinking life and 'the man' who was ever suppressing their suburbia dreams, which is pretty fucked up if you think about it.
I don't know why I'm feelin' sorry for myself
I spend all my time wishin' that I was someone else
I guess I must have spent too much time in my own thoughts, because the next thing Janice said seemed completely out of nowhere. "Can I see your gift?"
"What gift?"
"The one you're wearing." Janice explained patiently as if I was some slow child. "The one Justin just gave you."
I get a little bit, she gets a little more
Handing the necklace over to Janice, I watched her as she inspected it. Pulling it close and then pulling it back, close then back, back then close. She tilted it to the left and right and I watched her do all this, completely confused. The next thing she said didn't help my confusion so much as it added to it.
"Richard." She said, handing me the diamond heart necklace back.
She's Miss America
"What?"
"For who's cuter, Richard or Justin." She said, as if I just should have known that, that was what she was talking about.
Understanding what she was saying but hoping that I was wrong, I repeated, "What?"
She's Miss America
"He's cuter." She smiled, flashing that infamous man-crippling grin. "Not at first glance. But if you look long enough, he is."
I didn't say anything to that, because I didn't know what to say. Instead I continue to stay standing near her high school wall of fame. Still smiling she walked away and once was I standing alone I finally came back to my senses long enough follow her and to cry, "What?!"
I'm just the girl next door...
"And she said, what?"
It was lunch time. So naturally that translated to Justin and I being at our usual spot in PF Chang's. Luckily and very surprisingly, Martin wasn't here. There was probably an asshole convention that he had to rush off to attend.
"You heard me."
"Damn," he sighed.
"Told you some shit like this was going to happen."
"Bu-but...when? How?"
"Two good looking people forced to hang out for long enough..." I sighed, reaching for his drink since it was the only alcoholic beverage at the table. "It was bound to happen."
He snatched drink from me, but when I raised my eyebrows at him, he simply said, "You're underage."
"You didn't worry about that when you were trying to get me drunk at Paris' party."
He just smiled, faintly—a slight curl of lips, but made no comment about it before repeating, "You're underage."
"And you're wasting my time right now." I frowned, watched him a sip from the Budweiser he'd denied me. "What are we going to do about this? And naturally by we I mean you."
He didn't say anything for a long while and then he suddenly jumped up and said, "C'mon."
With a frown settling down onto my features, I didn't move, just stared at the weirdo. "I know you have the attention span of a three-year-old. But let's focus here."
"I'm focused."
"No, you need to focus your ass back down into that chair. We gotta think about this. Come up with a plan to fix this."
He did sit back down, but as far as brain-storming a plan—that was a no go. So I finally just said, "You know what I think our problem is? I think we've been going about this all wrong. I mean, sure we had to make it believable that we were a couple. But guess what? Mission accomplished. I think it's time for a little less you and me and lot more me and Richard." When all I got was silence, I added, "And you and Janice."
He still wasn't saying anything. Suddenly his menu had gotten pretty damn interesting. "You're not looking at me. You're not talking to me." I sighed. "What's wrong?"
Those sea foam blue eyes rolled up to meet my everyday brown eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I agree."
"You agree?" I made it a question, not because I didn't understand but because...yeah, shit, because I didn't understand. Justin never agreed with me. At least not so easily. Plus he looked deflated, like I'd popped his happy bubble, which normally wouldn't have bothered me. Except that I hadn't meant to do it, so damn it, it bothered me.
He nodded.
"Then say something."
His frown was immediate and strong. "Just because I'm not talking doesn't mean something's wrong. You're always talking about how I talk too much. Enjoy the silence."
"How can I enjoy it with you pouting over there?"
A pleased smile grin curled the edges of his lips. "I didn't know you cared, Sugar Pie."
Instead of rolling my eyes and denying it, I felt a spontaneous grin cut across my face. Shaking my head at the realization that I actually did care, I frowned and said, "Shut up and let's order."
He watched me from over the top of his menu for a moment, before finally calling the waitress over. It wasn't Charlene this time. I guess even she had to take a day off.
Listening to him order for the both of us, I didn't know why he'd even bothered with the pretension of looking over the menu. He knew what I liked. Just like I knew what he liked. It wasn't that hard to figure out, we ordered the same thing pretty much every time. At least I did, he occasionally switched it up and would try to make me do the same. Said I wasn't spontaneous enough. Said I lived in routines and order too much.
This coming from the same man who has at times planned his time out down to the minute.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he said smiling softly, as he nudged me from under the table with his knee.
Watching as he slid a penny my way, a little smirk took hold of my lips. "Do I look cheap to you?" When he opened his mouth to answer, I was quick to cut him off with a laugh. "Don't answer that."
His smile grew an inch on each side, but he didn't say anything—just stared at me silently.
It didn't take long for my good ol' buddy self-consciousness to make an appearance. "What? Do I have something on my face?"
He frowned and brushed an invisible something off his face before motioning for me to do the same to mine. We went back and forth like this for about a minute, but he sighed, getting to feet, walking around the table to stand in front of me.
I'd been close to him before. I'd even gotten almost used to it. But for some reason, I was extra aware of his body so very close to mine as he leaned in to brush whatever it was away from the edge of my mouth. He leaned back slightly, as if the small distance would allow him to check to see if it was really gone.
"Did you get it?" I asked and even to me my voice sounded breathy, but I didn't know why.
"No." He said, already leaning into me, his single word breathing warm against my skin. I shivered and he kissed me, a light brush of lips. He deepened the kiss long enough to get me to lean into him, then he pulled away abruptly. Taking his seat again, he said, "I got it."
I didn't have a clue what 'it' was or even if it was really there to begin with, but I was almost certain he'd gotten it.
I wasn't sure I liked that or not.
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This chapter features: Saving Jane - Girl Next Door
