Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
â”William Shakespeare
"Hide me."
The door of the trailer Iâd been lounging in opened and Justin came rushing into the room, slamming the door behind himself as he pressed his body up against the door. His heaving chest indicating that heâd been running.
Black Snack Moan, the porno sounding movie that wasnât a porno, was mere days away from being wrapped up. I personally was glad that it was almost over. Spending hours upon hours cooped up in a trailer wasnât exactly my idea of fun.
Looking up from the page of a new Laurell K. Hamilton book I was sitting on the couch reading, I frowned at him. "Hide you? Where? And why?"
"Anywhere. A closet. A big box. Under the cushion you're sitting on. I dunno, woman! Just hide me!"
He sounded so frantic, so panickedâ”I couldnât help but laugh at him. Not that I was trying to help it. "So I guess you're the one who flew over the cuckoo's nest."
"Fionna..."
And in just that one word, I knew he was serious. Too serious to bother with messing with me by calling me anything else but my name. "Oh, Lord. What's wrong? Who's after you?"
"Not who. What." He vaguely answered, his eyes bouncing around the room now.
"What? What are you looking for?"
"Somewhere to hide." He said, annoyance hedging into his voice as those sea blue eyes rolled and he continued to look around for that elusive hiding place.
I started to pick my book back up and ignore him. I started to and probably would have succeeded if nosiness hadnât gotten the best of me. "What's after you?"
"Ricci." He hissed. "Keep your voice down."
"Ricci? Christina Ricciâ”the poor woman you're always avoiding?"
"Poor woman?â He nearly laughed when he said it. His face looking at me incredulously. âPsychotic, delusional, general pain in my ass, would all be better ways to describe her."
"Now that we're past the linguistics." I said. "Why are you hiding from her?"
"For the same reason I'm always hiding from her."
Rolling eyes, I shook my head. Christina had a crush on him. True, the crush was a tad bit on the obsessive side, but heâs a grown man, youâd think heâd have found a better solution than running away to hide. Although that probably makes me sound like a hypocrite considering how if I hadnât handled my problems like that in the past then my present wouldn't involve sitting in a pop starâs, whoâs trying to be movie star, trailer on the set of his new movie. I would have never met him. I would have never met Janice or Richard. There would have been no deal, no complications.
See, what running away gets you?
A whole fucking new set of problems, thatâs what.
"Why don't you just tell her that you're not interested?"
"Don't you think I have? I've tried! It's like it goes into her ears, takes a wrong turn, gets lost in her delusions and winds up registering in her brain as me trying to play hard to get."
Laughing, I said, "Your little hide and seek game is making you hard to get though."
"But I'm not doing this as some kind of way to encourage her to come onto me harder. You know how she calls all the time?"
"Yeah."
"Now she shows up at my house."
"When did she start doing that?"
"A few days ago."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
"I figured you'd just laugh and wouldn't be any help anyways."
"Thanks for that vote of confidence." I frowned. "So what happened when she showed up?"
"It was probably around four or five in the morning. I had been groggy as shit and could barely put one foot in front of the other. But when I saw her on the other side of the door, I woke the fuck up. Quick." He said, shaking his head at the thought. "When I saw her through the peep hole, I thought, well at least she's just on the outside, so I can pretend like I'm not home or something. But as soon as I started to walk away from the door, she starts yelling. 'I know you're there! I heard your footsteps! Come and open this door! Stop playing! It's cold and out here and you're being ridiculous.'
"I'm being ridiculous. She had the nerve to say that. So I figured I had one of two choices, either leave her there where maybe one of my neighbors will hear her crazy ass and threaten to call the police on her if she doesn't leave or call the police myself. 'Cause she didn't seem like she was gonna leave without a police escort. But then, like a dumbass, I started to think about how bad that would make her look if the press out a hold of the fact that she was stalking me and got arrested outside of my house for it. So instead of calling the police, I only threatened to call. She called my bluff. So she wound up inside the damn house.â He said, shaking his head again.
"She comes in and the first thing she does is head straight for the kitchen. Like she lives there and knew where everything was and felt entitled to the shit. She had the nerve to offer me some of my own fucking food."
"Did you ask her why she was there? What did she want?"
"Yeah, I asked her. And she looked at me like I was stuck on stupid for, seriously, for two minutes. Then finally she rolled her eyes and said, 'I didn't know a girl had to want something just to come over and see her man.' The attitude shocked me more than the words. She fucking blew my mind with that one. So I'm just staring at her, right. Trying to figure out just how crazy this bitch is. And trying to remember where was the last place Iâd put the phone. And then suddenly all the anger disappears and she smiled this big ol' smile, like she was seeing me for the first time in years and she'd missed the shit outta me."
"I'm all for cursing. But could you try this story without it?"
"I only curse when I'm upset. But whateva, I'll try. For you, Sugar Pie." He said, gently cupping my chin in his large hand as he pushed his lips up into a phony bright smile. But since he was willing to joke around, at least I knew he was relaxed now. "So she was smiling. I was still trying to figure out where the phone was. Then she said 'I know what's wrong with you.' And before I could say anything, do anythingâ”blink."
He paused then. Just stopped, letting his words fade off into oblivion. "And then what?" I prompted.
A slow grin spread across the length of his face. "Good, just making sure you were listening. Your eyes looked a touch glazed over."
"I'm tired." I said, and just the mention of being tired reminded my body of that fact and I instantly yawned. Loud, long and completely unattractiveâ”but those were always the best yawns though.
"Why are you so tired? Did something keep you up last night? Or should I change that 'something' to 'someone'?" His eyebrows rose with unwarranted suspicion as his arms crossed against his chest.
"Shut the fuck up and get on with your lame ass story."
He frowned, but it didnât reach his playful eyes. "Oh, so you get to curse, but I can't?"
"Ya damn skippy." I nodded.
"Anyways, so the next thing I know, her coat was falling. I don't know why I didn't notice it before. But all she had on that I could see was a trench coat. It dropped to the floor."
"Eww. She was naked?"
"Naw." He shook his head. "Thankfully, my vision was spared that sight. She just had on a wifebeater and some boxer shorts. That's when I noticed she was wearing some dirty pink fuzzy slippers. Her hair looked like if it could talk it would say 'Comb? What? Shampoo? Oh, hell no!' I don't know how I missed all that at first. But then I don't know how I let myself think that letting her crazy ass in my house was better than having her carted away in a black and white."
"So, she's standing in her country bumpkin sleepover gear. What happened next?"
"I told her she had to go."
"And let me guess, she threw a fit."
"Naw. She surprised the shit,â He paused. âI mean, she surprised the mess outta me and just looked at me like I had hurt her feelings and then said 'okay.' And walked herself to the door."
"And that was it?"
"Yeah, that was it."
I let a few moments of silence go by undisturbed before I laughed, long and hard enough to need to wipe tears away. I couldnât help it though, I could just picture the whole thing and it looked too damn funny to waste by being sympathetic.
He pushed out a long stream of unamused air through his parted lips. "I knew you'd laugh. It's not funny."
Seeing him pouting now, didn't help me to stop laughing. "No, it's not, but..." I had managed to hold the laughter back for those few words, but the absurdity of it all and the look on his face sent me right back to hyena chuckling in his face. "Oh, god. Yes, it is. It's fucking hilarious."
"Stop cussing."
"Stop pouting."
When I finally got my laughter back under control, there was nothing but silence. I nudged him. "What are you thinking about?"
He raised serious blue eyes at me. "About how I need to get a new girlfriend."
I just chuckled.
"You even laughed at that." He scoffed.
"I'm sorry." I said, sobering slightly. "You know it would break my heart, Honey Bunch, if you found a new Sugar Pie."
A smile crept out the left side of his mouth. "You know you're the only Sugar Pie for me." He said, pulling me against his chest, where he couldn't see me roll my eyes. "So what are we going to do?"
"We?" I frowned, pulling away from him. "I think I need to clean out my ears, because I think I just heard you say some shit like 'what are we going to do.'"
"Your ears are clean. It's your mouth that's dirty."
I frowned. "Shuddup," was my clever comeback, to which I took it up a notch with a playful shove.
"So you aren't going to help me?"
I shrugged. "Not if you think I'm going to ride in as the jealous girlfriend come to piss on her territory."
"Okay. How about less pissing, and more jealous girlfriend?"
Rolling my eyes, I said, "How about you just tell her you're mine."
"How possessive of you." He smiled. "But I've already tried that. So what else you got?"
"She didn't care that you had a girlfriend?"
"I don't think she'd care if I had a restraining order against her." He shrugged. "I don't think she really believes that you're my girlfriend."
I frowned. "Well, what the hell do I have to do to prove it? Fuck you in front of her?"
"Fi, I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff." He smirked.
And I did my best not to frown or roll my eyes, since heâd be expecting that. But where my first two reactions were stifled, my usual grumpiness found its worm hole nevertheless through my tone. My voice deadpanned as I said, "I'm not. And you know my name, so try using it."
"Let's say you did do this." The bastard was still grinning at the thought. "That still doesn't prove that you're my girlfriend."
"Well, there's not exactly a girlfriend certificate I can go out and get. So if she doesn't believe you when you tell her, then how do we get her to believe it?"
His smile grew at my use of 'we'. "Easy." He said. And as soon as he said it I knew I wouldn't like what he would follow it up with. "You tell her."
"That sounds very jealous girlfriend style to me."
"So what? Your big, strapping, ridiculously good looking, debonair..."
"Get on with your point." I said, cutting him off and rolling my eyes. "If you have one."
"The point is, I'm your boyfriend and your position as my girlfriend is being threatened. So you don't have to be the jealous girlfriend, you just have to be the girlfriend."
"I am the girlfriend. But what you want is for me to piss on my territory."
"What's with you and this pissing thing, R. Kelly?" When I rolled my eyes, he smiled. "All you have to do is act like a normal girlfriend and step in and let it be known that I'm your man and you don't like to share. Especially not with psychotic bitches. And if that leads to a harmless catfight...and if I just happened to be there when the shirts get ripped off, so be it." He shrugged as if that was some hardship he'd bear for my sake.
"Stupid." I shook my head with a tiny hint of a smile. "Just stupid."
There was a knock on the door then. Justin got strangely still, like an animal does when the predator comes around. The freeze and hope like hell that whatever is after you needs their eyes checked game doesn't always work in the wild. Let's see if it works for Justin.
Walking over to the door, I glanced back at him with a smile. His jaw dropped and he immediately started shaking his head, while simultaneously looking for someplace to hide. I was going to open the door and let whoever it was inside. And he knew it.
I let three more knocks go by, just enough time for Justin to decide his best bet would be the closet. Trapped in the closet. The gay rumour-ers would love that.
Pushing the open with a flourish, I smiled down at the woman who stood with her hand posed to knock again. At the sight of me, she frowned. After receiving that warm hello, my usual frown surfaced.
She glanced at me, then at the trailer. Then at me again. With her brow wrinkled in confusion, she finally said, "Isn't this Justin's trailer?"
Lawd, and here we go. "It is."
Her brow wrinkled furthered. "Then what are you doing in it?"
"I'm his dog-sitter."
"Then where's the dog?"
She had me there. I should have known where Sadie was. And usually I did, but she was really bugging me today so I'd just let her wander the set alone for awhile. I mean, what harm could she do?
Don't answer that.
I watched her for a moment. Finding that glint in her eyes disturbing enough to make me change my mind on letting her come inside this trailer after all. It would have been fun to mess with Justin like that. But I make it a rule not to mess with crazy people, if it can be avoided. "Do you have a message you want me to give Justin when he comes back?"
"When he comes back?" She laughed, but there was nothing nice about her laugh. Then again, I was starting to think there was nothing nice about her. "Listen, I know he's in there. And we can do this one of two ways, you can either move out my way voluntarily. Or I can move you out of my way involuntarily."
Decisions, decisions.
If she kept talking like this, she was going to make the decision for me. And I'm almost certain she wasn't going to like it very much.
"I'm telling you he isn't here."
"And I'm telling you, you got about five more seconds to get of my face, before I..."
"Before you what?" I said, moving in closer, staring down at her from my 6 foot to her 5â4â. "Since you know so much, I'm guessing you know I'm his girlfriend."
She rolled her eyes, like that was the dumbest lie I could have thought up. That pissed me off. "Yeah, he might have mentioned something about having a girlfriend. But I'll be damned if he would pick someone like you, over someone like me." She rolled her eyes up and my body with so much disgust that I couldn't help but feel like this was all strangely familiar.
Ah, yeah, I remember. It's high school, all fucking over again.
"And just who the fuck are you, bitch? If you don't get away from me right now, I'm gonna make you look like the snaggle toothed hillybilly that your Hollywood makeover did little to hide."
That was when I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. I was slightly lifted up into the air, just high enough that I didn't have any footing and dragged back into the trailer.
Justin was apparently done hiding. Once he'd gotten me out of the doorway. He stepped in between the two of us. He must have felt me when I moved up behind him, because he turned around and fixed me with a glare that even I had to back down from. When he turned back to Christina, the bitch was grinning.
I was ready to set it off, but before I could make any moves, Justin said, "Don't." He wasn't looking at me, but I knew he was talking to me. He didn't turn toward me, but his hand reached back, open palmed. He stepped to the side, making room for me to stand beside him. I guess he realized I wasn't the type of girl to just stand behind a man and wait.
He turned to look at me, when I had neither taken his offered hand nor stood beside him. His fingers were wiggling. I almost smiled.
Taking his hand, I stepped up and stood next to him.
"Christina meet my girlfriend. Fionna meet my stalker."
Ricci didn't find that humorous, but I did. Grinning at her, I said, "I would say that it's nice to meet you, but I think we both know that would be a lie."
She rolled her eyes, sucked her teeth, shifted her weight back and forth, but suddenly she'd run out of things to say.
"There's only so many ways I can say this.â Justin started with a sigh. âI tried doing it nicely, but apparently that doesn't work. So here it is again. I'm not interested. I don't want you. I don't like you, not even as friends. I want you to stop calling me. Youâve already made me have to change my number twice. Stop showing up at my house. Stop stalking me, it's not going to change anything but force me to get the police involved. And I don't think you want that."
Sighing, she nodded her head. This defeated side of her almost made me feel bad for her. Almost.
"So that's it? It's over?"
She nodded again. Her eyes never lifted from her feet. She was pathetic incarnate.
"Okay." he said, I could feel him relax beside me as she turned and walked away. He really thought it was over.
I wasn't so sure.
"You know, I really don't think is necessary."
There was a bed in between us. Justinâs bed. It was late. After twelve, not quite one, late. I wanted to go home. He wanted me to stay. Weâd been arguing about this for a few minutes, but I guess heâd decided he was going to win this one, because he was already rummaging through his drawers looking for something for me to sleep in.
What he found was his oversized white t-shirt that I was holding now. He can't seriously think I'm going to sleep in this and this alone, can he?
He frowned at me. "So you don't want to wear anything to bed?"
"Of course I'm going to wear something. But it doesn't mean I'm going to wear this to your bed."
"What's mine is yours. I thought we went over this."
"Yes, we did. But I still don't see why I should have to start spending every night over here just because Ricci might or might not make an unwanted guest appearance."
"'Cause I might need someone to kick her ass if she doesn't leave peacefully." He smiled at me, before chuckling. "I've gotta say, you surprised me. I didn't know you had the jealous girlfriend in you."
"I wasn't being the jealous girlfriend, thank you very much. She insulted me."
"So you had to fight her over it?"
I glared at him, but his unfaltering smile caused me to lose grip of my frown. "So I lost my temper. You didn't have to come to my rescue."
His eyes were still sparkling with laughter. "I wasn't riding in to save you. I know what your punches feel like when theyâre playfulâ”I was definitely saving Ricci from you."
We both laughed then. Laughed until we cried. The whole thing was ridiculous. But it seemed that so many things in life often were ridiculous and if you didn't stop every once in awhile to laugh at it all, it would surely drive you insane.
"This is your side." He said, pointing the left side of the bed.
"Oh, so I can always wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"
He shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to lose your edge."
I watched him climb into his side, the right side. I didn't move.
"So giving me a side in your bed, that's a big deal isn't it?"
Pulling the covers up around him, he rolled his eyes at me and rolled onto his side. His back facing me, he said, "Do you want to make it a big deal?"
"No."
"Then get in bed." He said, patting the empty side of the mattress.
"But it is, isn't it?"
"You have a side in my bed, so you can go to sleep."
I watched him for a moment longer, before sighing and heading into the bathroom to change. Just because I was wearing the damn shirt didnât mean heâd won yet. The stupid shirt just barely hit at mid-thigh. I was going to have to be careful how I slept tonight.
Walking back and sitting down on the edge of the bed, I stared at his turned away form. "So it doesn't mean anything? Nothing at all?"
He sighed, rolling over onto his back. He watched me for a long silent moment. "Do you want it to mean something?"
"Why do you keep asking me stupid questions like that?"
"Why do you keep lying when I ask you stupid questions like that?"
I rolled my eyes. "I didn't even want to be here."
"Yet,â he smiled. I couldnât see it, but I didnât need toâ”I just knew that that satisfied grin of his was there. âHere you are. And you're happy to be here." When I opened my mouth to protest, he shook his head. "Just c'mere."
"What?" I frowned.
He smiled. "You heard me."
I watched his fingers wiggle and rolled my eyes. "It's not going to work this time."
He just kept them wiggling and I just stared at him. I understand that I was rolling my eyes, but I didn't understand why I was moving toward him. His fingers had stopped wiggling, but that was only because he had me right where he wanted me.
"I thought it wasn't going to work this time?"
I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking. For once I didn't say anything, I just continued to lay where I was with my head against his chest.
"Your heart is beating a little fast."
"You excite me, can't you tell?"
When I immediately started to jump away from him, his arms tightened around me. "I was joking."
"So I don't excite you?" I said, no longer struggling.
He sighed. "This is one of those lose-lose conversations."
"Let's not have it then."
"Okay." He said, resting his head on top of my own, his arms still firmly around me. His fingertips making small circles on the soft skin of my arms.
"Not even a little bit?" I turned my head up slightly, my head sliding under his chin.
His head turned down slightly, a tiny smile just barely curling the edges of his lips. "Is this us not having the conversation?"
Licking my lips, I sighed. Was I really turning into that girl? That girl who had these stupid kind of conversations with her boyfriend, arguing over things that donât need arguing? "Yeah." I said, rolling away to my side of the bed.
"Are you mad now?" His voice sounded closer than it should have been, since I had moved away from him. I hadnât felt the bed move, but it still seemed like heâd gotten closer.
"Why would I be?"
"I never thought I'd be having this fight with you.â This time I did feel the bed move. He was closer, but I didnât need the shift of the mattress to know that. He felt closer, like parts of him were hovering over parts of me. Him and his ever wandering hands undoubtedly. âYeah, sure we fight a lot. But this fight..." He trailed off and I felt his hands settle down just behind my back, not touching. But Iâm sure he was thinking about it.
"We aren't fighting. I'm not mad."
The bed shifted again. He was moving away. "That's why you're all the way over the there?"
"All the way over where? I'm just on my designated side of the bed. You didn't expect me to stay on top of you all night, did you?"
When he didnât answer right away, I turned to look at him. He smiled and even the darkness couldnât dim its brilliance. "A guy's gotta have dreams."
I laughed, but stayed where I was.
"Is this our first real couple fight?" He asked, propping his head on his hand.
"We aren't fighting." I said, resisted adding that werenât a real couple eitherâ”he always seemed to get bent out of shape when I said things like that.
"Yeah, and you aren't mad. So you've said."
Rolling over and giving him my back again, I said, "Thanks for the recap."
He was quiet for all of five seconds, before he nudged me and said, "So why does it feel like we're fighting?"
I frowned. I hadnât done that in awhile, so it felt like it was about that time. "Since when does a guy want to talk about feelings?"
"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it. We won't."
"Good."
"Great."
"Wonderful."
"Fabulous."
"Perfect."
He hesitated. "I got nothing."
I laughed. "That means, you lose."
"I thought we weren't fighting?"
"We weren't, but you lost just the same." I said, rolling over and facing him again.
He stared at me, his deep blue eyes searching mine in the darkness. He reached for me, his hand coming toward me. I flinched, he smirked. Forcing myself to relax, I stayed put. His hand lingering in the air just above my face for a moment, before gently tucking a loose strand of the often wild curly brown mess I called my hair.
"You shouldn't straighten it." He said, still fingering my locks, softly, thoughtfully. "It looks better curly with the way it frames your face."
"So says the man that shaved all his off." I said, running my fingers over his head where the curls were fighting their way back, slowly yet surely.
"I like yours. Not mine."
"Curly-head people want straight hair, straight hair people want curly. Everybody wants what they can't have."
A slow smile curled his lips. "So what does that mean? I can't have you?"
"Only if you want me."
He was still watching me, but even in the darkness I could tell that his smile had gone down a peg.
"Justin?"
"Yeah?"
My mind went blank for a few seconds as silence slid into the cracks. Suddenly whatever I was going to say that had made me call to him, was gone. Just like that. Blank. I was fumbling trying to remember what to say, his eyes still on me was making me feelâ”strange. I wouldnât say nervous, maybe just uneasy. I wanted him to look away, but I settled for being the one to do it. Turning my gaze to the ceiling, I said the first thing that came to mind. "This feels like a sleepover."
"What?"
The confusion in his voice might have made me smile if it wasnât for the fact that I was still fumbling with my thoughts. It doesnât make sense why Iâm so jumbled all of a sudden. Not just from some little attention from Justin. Justin didnât make me nervous. Half-naked Justin lying next to me in the dark, in his bed didnât make me nervous. Half-naked Justin lying next to me in the dark, in his bed, late at night talking about how he could possibly want meâ”me, who the only thing that stood between me and just laying there in my underwear alone was one of Justinâs t-shirt wrapped around me, making him feel close even when he wasnâtâŠ
Yeah, dammit, that made me nervous. "It feels like a sleepover. You know, you asked me to come stay the night. Then we both crawl into bed and do more talking then sleeping." I was rambling. I knew I was rambling, so I stopped.
I waited for his laughter. His sigh. His something. Nothing came.
"You awake?"
"Yeah."
"You don't agree?"
"No.â he finally said, after a few moments had passed. âIt's a grown woman and a half-naked grown man in bed together. That's not a sleepover."
I shrugged and plunged ahead, ignored the half-naked part. "All we need is some bunk beds. Or sleeping bags. Some snacks and scary stories to tell. Your mom to come in here and tell us both to shut the hell up."
"Let's just go to sleep."
"Is that your way of telling me to shut the hell up?"
He groaned, sitting up now. "Are you trying to drive me crazy or are you just so good at it that it just happens all natural?"
He was climbing over me now. Every piece of naked flesh he could touch, brush against meâ”he did. I would have been aware of his body with him just hovering over me, but the extra touches. Added extra sensations, thoughts.
I realized almost too late that my right hand was headed in the wrong directionâ”dangerously close to running my fingertips over the tempting ripples of his abdomen. He was doing this on purpose, Iâm sure. He was trying to prove something. I wasnât quite sure of what that something was, but Iâd be damned if I proved him right.
Licking my lips, I forced my eyes to stay on his. "This doesn't happen in sleepovers."
"This isn't a sleepover." He leaned into me, his lips hovering over mine. His breath hot against my skin. We brushed lips. Soft. Gentle. Sweet. Just a taste.
I sighed and he deepened it. Hands started to wander over skin eyes couldn't see. But feelâ”yes, we could feel anything. Everything that we wanted. And we wanted to feel everything.
Eve-ry-thing.
There was a ringing.
"Do you hear that?"
Brrrr-ing, itâs reality calling Fionna. Please pick up.
"Hear what?"
"That ringing."
"Hearing random ringing noises,â He shook his head with a gentle frown wrinkling his brow as he softly stroked the side of my face. âis the first sign of becoming deaf."
"Boy, shut up." I laughed, hitting him upside his head. "It's your phone."
"And you couldn't ignore it?"
I watched him, trying to read his face as best I could in the darkness of his room. My chest was still heaving slightly. I hadn't fully caught my breath. Him still hovering over me wasn't helping matters.
The ringing seemed to get louder, as if annoyed that it was being ignored.
"Are you going to get that?"
"Ugh." He sighed, taking two of his fingers and pushing them against my forehead. "You're a punk for teasing me."
I just smiled in the dark and listened as he answered the phone.
"Hello?" He said. "Who is this? What did I tell you before about this? Why am I not surprised? Yeah, she's here. Right next to me. In bed."
Then the phone was suddenly being pushed into my hand. "She wants to talk to you," was all he said. Taking the phone, I sighed. "Hello?"
And that was as far as my side of the conversation went as I listened to Ricci bitch me out about being in her man's bed. I don't know how much further her side of it went, because my fingers were on the end button too quick for all that.
"Thanks for handing me the phone." I said, punching him in the shoulder.
He just chuckled. "That's why you're here."
"Oh, coulda fooled me. I thought I was here to be molested in the dark."
"It's not molestation, if you enjoy it." He said with a little too much confidence for my liking and I could just feel the smile in his voice.
"Bet you say that to all your victims."
"Most women wouldnât complain about it like you do."
I almost reminded him that I wasnât most women, but I didnât. Figuring if he didnât know that by now, there was no use wasting my breath with telling him. "Whateva. So what's your type anyways?"
I felt his head turn to look at me. His head was touching close to mine, our bodies shoulder to shoulder. "Since when did stuff like that interest you?" He sounded amused like he wasnât far from laughing at me.
"Who said it interested me? I was just asking a question. Conversation and whatnot. And you're just avoiding answering it."
He didn't say anything, but I just knew he was smiling. Rolling onto his side, he took away the body contact between us. Propping his head on his hand, his wandering hands found their way into my hair again, getting lost and tangled but not seeming to mind. "I usually go for the ones that seem perfect for me on the outside, but are the worst match on the inside. I get caught up in big smiles, pretty eyes, curves, and styleâ”the way they walk, talk. But when I try to look deeper, I usually find that there isn't anything past that interests me. I want a real connection, you know? Not just a warm body to hold onto on cold nights. There needs to be a functioning brain with it too."
"So in one word, Janice."
His hand stopped moving in my hair and slowly pulled away. His head returned to its previous position, lying down beside mine. Shoulder to shoulder. "You could say that."
"I did say that."
Pinching me in my side, he said, "What's your type?"
A list of adjectives ran through my headâ”a lot of which surprisingly could have been used to describe Justinâ”but only one word came out. "Richard."
He sighed. I felt him shifting around in the bed, like he was moving closer to the other side of the bed, closer to his right side and further from my left. Before he'd completely slunk off, he leaned over me, his lips brushing the cool skin of my forehead. "Goodnight, Fi."
Chewing on the inside of my mouth, his scent still lingered near my nose, floating up from his shirt which I was wrapped inâ”I didn't even bother with correcting him.
Individually his features were nothing special. But together, arranged as they were, they were often nothing short of spectacular. Especially when he was asleep. That's when I could feel that damn L-word creeping up on me the most. Late at night, when my insomnia had gotten the best of me, I'd lay awake and just watch the soft light that had seeped through the blinds from the night traffic and street lights fall over and under his face, draping it in shadows, before revealing it again.
And it never failed to provoke me to crawl out of bed, root around until I found my camera. Snapping a few up close shots of his face. I'd pull back slightly to catch the arm that fell casually to the left side of his face, gracing his forehead, slightly covering his closed eyes. His legs were always twisted into some impossibly uncomfortable looking position and I'd pull back even more to capture that.
I don't know how many nights I'd done it, but I thought I'd always been pretty discreet about the late night photo shoots. Until one day, when he let me know I wasnât nearly as sly as I thought.
I'm tuggin' at my hair
I'm pullin' at my clothes
âWhat do you do with all those pictures?â Heâd asked casually over coffee one drizzly afternoon.
âWhat pictures?â I asked back, blowing gently on the nasty brew that would be the only thing standing in between me and narcolepsy.
âThe ones that you take when you think Iâm sleeping.â
I'm tryinâ to keep my cool
I know it shows
I could feel the slow burn of red as it crept into my cheeks whilst I nearly burnt myself with the coffee Iâd been attempting to sip. âYou knew about that?â
I'm staring at my feet
My cheeks are turning red
I'm searching for the words inside my head
âYeah. The flashing light was kind of annoying at first. But I got used to it.â He smiled. âSo what do you do with them?â
âNothing much.â I shrugged.
Cause I'm feeling nervous
Tryin' to be so perfect
His eyebrow rose. âNothing much? Or nothing at all?â
Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it
âMmmm, this coffee is pretty good for being overpriced designer coffee that comes at the expense of some poor farmering family in a South American country, thatâs getting exploited for a crop that is ruining their soil from overproduction. Just so schmucks like me can sit in Starbucks and say âMmmm, this coffee is pretty good for being overpricedâŠâ
Laughing, he nodded. âYeah, I got it.â He cut me off with a smile. âSo what do you do with the pictures?â
Since when do guys listen? Since when do they actually want to have a conversation with you that doesnât involve you naked at the end? But maybe that was what this was all leading to, in one way or another; maybe he just learned a long time ago that the easiest way was to take the less traveled back roads. Not a straight shot, but less stops.
It don't do me any good, it's just a waste of time
What use is it to you what's on my mind
âI told you.â I started with a frown, realizing that rambling hadnât deterred him so maybe annoyance verging on anger would. âNothing.â
If it ain't cominâ out we're not going anywhere
So why can't I just tell you that I care
âNothing at all?â
If I could say what I want to say
He seemed disappointed by my answer. I smiled, took a few slow sips of my coffee and finally asked, âWhatâs wrong?â
I'd say I want to blow youâ”away
âI thought you were going to use it in some exhibit of yours or something thatâs all.â
âWell maybe I would if I was lucky enough to have an exhibit to show my stuff in.â I said, allowing for a drinking pause followed back a look around the room pause. âWhy didnât you tell me before that you knew?â
âCause then I knew youâd stop.â
My first instinct was to frown up my face and ask him why he even cared. But my second instinct won out. So instead I wound up merely staring at him. Studying the face Iâd taken so many late night photos of. Deep down, I knew that the real reason Iâd been taking those pictures at that time. It wasnât because thatâs when he looks his best. He was one of those annoyingly good looking people so Iâd be hard pressed to select a single moment and say âyes, this is the best!â
Be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight?
Night was the best for me because he was asleep. Or at least I assumed he was since heâd never done anything until today to show me otherwise. Night was the best for me because I felt safe in the shadows. I could smile at him and heâd never know. Whisper how handsome he was. How good he smelled. HowâŠ
If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go downâ”on one knee
Shit, if heâd been awake enough to know about the pictures thenâŠ
âDid you ever hearâŠâ
âDid I ever hear what?â He asked. Those piercing blue eyes of his glancing up from his coffee daring me to say what Iâm sure heâd been wanting to talk about since heâd brought the subject up in the first place.
What's wrong with my tongue
These words keep slipping away
I stutter, I stumble like I've got nothing to say
I hesitated, wondering if I was just playing into his hand. I wasnât the kind of girl he usually went for. I wasnât the one he wanted. So whyâŠwhy bother?
Cause I'm feeling nervous
Trying to be so perfect
Why bother with extra feelings, emotions, thoughts and phrases that tie you up into things that are messier than youâre able to clean up? Why say things that in just a few words response another person could break you? Why put yourself out on a limb you were almost certain wasnât going to be able to support your weight? WhyâŠ
Cause I know you're worth it
âNevermind.â
âŠtry when all youâd ever been good for was failing?
You're worth itâ”yeah
__________________________________
This chapter featured: Avril L. âThings Iâll Never Sayâ
"If you love someone you say it. You say it right then, out loud. Or the moment just passes you by."
â“My Best Friend's Wedding (movie)
âDid you ever hearâŠâ
âDid I ever hear what?â
I was waiting expectantly for her answer. Hoping that sheâd tell me all things I wanted to hear. Normally, I wouldnât have bothered with such things, because the chances of being disappointed were too high to gamble against. But I could see the truth just behind her eyes, peeking out occasionally, before ducking away again in the hopes of not being spotted. And even if I wasnât completely sure Iâd seen it, I knew for sure Iâd heard it. Late one nightâŠ
I rolled over careful not to roll over onto him. I wasnât quite used to sharing a bed with him, but just liked heâd said, Iâd started to get used to it. And thatâs what worried me. His familiarity. Comfortable thoughts were starting to form in my silly little head, probably because he was too closeâ”clouding my better judgement.
I didnât want him. I wanted Richard. His often solemn, completely intellectual, slightly on the nerd spectrum of dress, mature friend. Certainly not Justinâs video game playing, practical joke committing, clown self. Certainly not Justinâs sweet, sentimental, affectionate, thoughtful, loveable self. No, he was just a means to an endâ”a detour to Richard.
Right.
I nodded to make sure my head and heart were on the same page again. Thirty minutes later, I was still awake. Sleep was teasing me. And all I had done was lie on my side and study the snoring one beside me. He had nine freckles on his left shoulder, at least from my angle. He smacked his lips occasionally in his sleep, before licking them.
Heâd murmured something once and reached for me but when I retreated he cuddled with the pillow instead, a small smile playing on his thin lips. And despite the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, I refuse to be jealous of a pouch of feathers in a pillowcase.
Deciding this was more pathetic than the time when Iâd cried over Buffyâs death at what I thought at the time to be the end of the show, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and forced my eyes elsewhere. When I started to slide off the bed, he stirred causing me to inadvertently freeze like Iâd stolen something. His hand darted out to me, finding mine, he clasped it in his, slowly linking our fingers together as he murmured my name.
âJustin, you awake?â I whispered, even though I could tell by his shallow breathing that heâd still been asleep. Asleep or awake, he always seemed to feel the need to keep his hands on me lately. Iâd hated it at first, but now I only hated the way it made me feel. That fluttery, slightly light-headed, giddy feeling that tingled over me whenever he touched meâ”annoyed the crap out of me.
âYouâre not playing fair now.â I whispered, resigning myself to staying in place on the bed beside him. I could have sworn I saw a sly smile dance across his face with the soft shadows the streetlights had cast on him. âI hate you.â I murmured, watching his perfectly still face as I sank back into the bed. âBut mostly, I hate that I donât really hate you. The emotions tend to be stubbornly running one way, no matter how hard I try to beat them the other way. And I hate that. But not you. Even though itâs your fault.â I sighed, my eyes wandering the line of exposed skin from his neck down to his lower back where the sheets began to keep his modesty in tact. If it was just lust I felt when I looked at him, then everything would be a lot easier. Just lust I could deal with itâ”learn to deal withâ”it was the more, the extra that worried me.
âAll your sweetness has infected me, I think. Eroded perfectly good steel walls and the ones you couldnât destroy, you simply snuk by with your Trojan horse waysâŠâ I whispered, my voice fading off into silence as my mind wandering into Trojans of a different variety. Feeling heat raise into my face I sighed. âI donât love you, so you donât win. I donât even really like you.â I said, my fingers running through soft curls that had managed to grow back in the last few weeks. âSo love is out of the question, right?â My eyes were watching his lips. Lips that I knew just how soft they were from experience. âRight. Damn right.â
He stirred and my body tensed, only relaxing when heâd finally stopped moving, having repositioned himself closer to me, his heavy arm draped over my stomach, curling me to him. âAnd even if I did, it would be so small an amount that it would be insignificant.â Scooting toward him a little, I carefully laid my head on his chest. âOkay, maybe minorly significant.â
And just when I think Iâm about to get her to finally say how she feels out loud in the sunlight, I heard the one word that has ruined many a conversation.
âNevermind.â There was a drinking pause, followed by a looking around the place pause, finished with what seemed to be a thinking pause. âIâve been hyping you up a lot to Janice lately. I think itâs only a matter of time before sheâll be putty in your hands.â
âI donât want putty.â
Her eyes asked âWhat do you want?â Glancing elsewhere before mine could say âYou.â
I should have said it out loud. Just told her how I feel so sheâd know she wasnât alone. But when I opened my mouth, hers opened too. Both of us trying to talk. Neither of us succeeding.
My tongue felt heavy and dry, picking my coffee back up I must have drank it a little too hastily because the next thing I knew my tongue was burnt and I was crying out in pain. She was laughing. I wanted to be mad at that, or at least frown, but when I heard myself laughing right along with her thatâs when I knew.
I could tell this woman anything from the most mundane to the most embarrassing, but right now in this moment with my palms moist, my heart doing acrobats and my tongue which was normally so deft at moments like this becoming suddenly daftâ”I knew there would still be a while before weâd climb out of this lull of âthe things Iâll never say.â
