“Hello?” K said, groggily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her body leaning toward the night stand where the telephone sat.
“Hey, K. Were you sleeping?”
She groaned. “Justin, it’s nearly five in the morning, what else would I be doing?”
“I dunno.” He responded dumbly just to annoy her. “So will you come over?”
“Justin, what part of it’s nearly five in the morning, don’t you understand?!”
“You know if you moved in with me, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.”
“No, then you’d probably just roll over and nudge me until I wake up and say something stupid like ‘Hey, K. Were you sleeping?’”
He laughed. “So! You know you’d love it.”
“Justin…” She groaned. “I’m tired.”
“Can I come over then?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Why aren’t you saying yes?”
“Because it’s nearly five in the morning!”
“Don’t you want to see me?”
“Don’t even try to guilt me into saying yes.”
“So you’re saying no?”
“Justin…” She sighed. “Did I mention I’m tired?”
“Yeah, you did.” He said, allowing for a long pause in the conversation before he spoke again. “I’m coming over, okay.”
“Alright,” She relented. “But I’m not waiting up for you.”
Laughing, he said, “That’s alright. I’ll just wake you up again.”
“I hate you.” She groaned.
“I love you too.” He smiled before hanging up.
“K?” Justin whispered into the dark. He could faintly hear her mumble something incoherent under her breath as she rolled over. “Baby?” He tried again as he began to undress before he planned on joining her.
“Yes, you stupid anti-sleep boy, I’m awake. Mission accomplished. You can go home now.” She groaned, tugging the sheets over her head.
“Shut up.” He said, smiling slightly, pinching her side. “You know you wanted me to be here.” He added, pulling the covers away until her face was revealed again.
“Mmm,” She said, rolling over into his arms “ her eyes still closed. “I suggest you shut up.”
“Or what?” He said, smirking in the darkness, as his arms wrapped gently around her.
“Justin, it’s too early to threaten someone’s life.”
“Well that’s a first.” He laughed. “You should just be glad I’m not ignoring you right now.”
“Ignoring me because of what?” She opened her eyes to frown at him.
“Because of that chump you wanna bring up in here.”
“Oh, you mean my future sex slave?” She smirked.
“You got jokes, huh? Well haha…hell.” He muttered, rolling away from her and moving to leave.
“Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer.
“Justin,” She sighed. “Don’t make me get up.”
Still getting no answer, she rolled onto her side, watching him as his buttoned back up his shirt before reaching for his shoes. When he slipped the last shoe on, she reached for him, wrapping one arm around his waist.
“Let go of me.”
“No, come back to bed.” She insisted, stubbornly. “You came over here to piss me off by keeping me awake half the night and dammit that’s what you’re gonna do!” She laughed, but he didn’t.
“Let go, I’m leaving.”
She hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of game Justin was playing. Was he really mad? Or was he just looking for her to beg him to stay?
Deciding on the latter, she let go.
He hesitated for a moment as if he wasn’t expecting that, but then tried to make up for that hesitation and overcompensated as he hurriedly made his way out the door.
She heard the loud, obnoxious slam of the door. She checked the time, glanced at her nails before pulling out a file to shapen them up a bit. Glancing at the clock again, she began counting. 1…2…3…
Her bedroom door flew back open again and she resisted the smile that came. He’s so predictable sometimes. She thought allowing a small smile to form on her face.
“Why didn’t you come after me?” He huffed, staring at her as his chest heaved from having ran half down then back up the stairs.
“Why did you come back?” She quipped.
“Because…” He trailed off, unable to think of a good excuse. “Don’t you want me back?!” He asked, frustratedly.
She smiled and opened her arms to him then. “I didn’t want you to leave.”
“Good,” He smirked, moving towards the bed now.
K’s eyes were immediately drawn to his fingers watching as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. But he just had to ruin the moment with talking. “Cause I plan on being around a lot more. Gotta protect what’s mine.” He smirked, climbing back into the bed.
“What’s yours?” K frowned.
“Yeah, you’re mine.” He replied confidently, as if had she turned to look in the mirror at that moment she would have found ‘Justin’s bitch’ tattooed to her forehead. “And I ain’t about to let Mr. Man waltz up in here and steal you from me.”
Keisha laughed. “Well there ain’t gonna be nothing to steal if you keep talking like that. Cause don’t nobody own me.”
“I’m not saying I own you, I’m just saying that you’re my girl and as my girl I gotta protect you from these little sex-brained boys.”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “Whatever you say, J. But the last time I checked, nobody was beating down my door to get at me. So you really don’t have to be worried.”
He frowned then, looking at her like she was crazy. And according to him she was indeed crazy if she thought for a moment that other guys didn’t notice her.
“What?” K said, annoyed by the ‘are you stupid’ look Justin had fixed on her.
“You don’t notice those guys who practically drool over you?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes. But it’s not as bad as you’re trying to make it out to be.”
“Whateva, the point is I don’t like it.”
“The point is that there is no point and we should just go to sleep now.”
He didn’t say a word for a long time, letting silence take over. He even tried to fall asleep but all his thoughts were focused on one thing: the man that was scheduled to move into the apartment with K in a matter of days. And he was desperate to get K to understand his side, to understand why he was acting as crazy as he was.
“So you’re really going through with this?”
“Through with what, Justin?” She asked, wearily, hoping that the worn out tone of her voice would deter him from further hammering this subject into the ground. “I was so close to falling asleep and then you just had to open your big mouth again!”
Ignoring her last comment, he asked, “You’re seriously going to have a guy roommate?”
“No, I’m just going to let him move his stuff in and once he’s done I’ll say, ‘Okay, your stuff can stay here but you gotta find somewhere else to live.’”
“K, you’re not funny.” He pouted.
She laughed and shrugged, ready to go back to sleep.
“Do you think he’s cute?”
“Justin what kind of question is that?”
“Okay, so I guess that’s a yes.” He paused for a moment, before hesitantly asking, “Do you think he looks better than me?”
She could hear the insecure little boy in him, peeking out from behind his normally cocky exterior. Knowing that he had his moments where he could be just as sheepishly self-doubting as anyone else, K said, “Of course he doesn’t look better than you. There’s a very short list of people that have enough hotness to surpass you.”
“And who’s on that list?” He asked, curious as to who could have possibly topped him.
“Brad Pitt, Usher, Taye Diggs, Allen Iverson…”
“So if any of those guys stepped you to…”
Cutting him off, she nodded enthusiastically and said, “Then I’d be all over them in a second.”
“But what about me?” Justin said, pouting.
“What about you?” She laughed.
“So it’s all about looks then?”
“Of course not, stupid. Do I look like a guy to you?”
Rolling his eyes, he smiled. “Okay, so then if it isn’t just about looks then why would you leave me for them?”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know them.”
“I can get to know them, if you know what I mean.” She grinned coyly.
He groaned.
Laughing, she said, “Okay, so I can finally go back to sleep…I wouldn’t leave you for those other ultra-foine ass men. I’d want to. Oh, lawd, would I want to. But I wouldn’t.” She said, rolling over, thinking that was good enough to allow her some sleeping time.
Apparently it wasn’t.
“But why would you stay though?”
“Justin…” She sighed. “There’s only one reason a girl like me would pass up men like them.”
“And what’s that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m crazy.”
He laughed. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough answer.”
“Good,” She said, closing her eyes again.
“K…”
“I love you, Justin, but I swear if you say one more thing I’m…”
Chuckling, he pulled her close to him. “I love you too, meanie.” He said, his body snuggled up against hers, ready to let the subject drop. For now.
Rolling over I glanced at the alarm clock that read 10:45 a.m., rolling back over and into Justin’s arms it finally hit me. It was 10:45…fifteen minutes ‘til my 11 o’ clock!
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I hissed, jumping up from the bed and racing into the bathroom. Five minutes later I exited the bathroom having already brushed my teeth and washed my face.
I rushed over to the closet, rambling through looking for any half-way decent outfit to throw on. Settling on the old hoodie and jeans combination, I quickly started throwing off my PJs and changing into the outfit I’d just found. Somewhere between my quiet mutterings to myself about my stupid alarm and lack of clothes to wear, Justin rolled over in the bed, facing me now.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice half groggy from sleep, half amused by me…who was currently struggling to get my damn jeans up over my ass.
“I’m getting ready.” I groaned, still tugging away at my jeans.
Smiling, he sat up a little to watch me better probably. “Getting ready to go where?” He asked, watching me jump up and down, still trying to get these damn tight ass pants on. I really needed to do some laundry.
“Class at 11. I’m late.” I groaned, resorting to laying on the bed and tugging on my pants as if this change in position would help.
“K…” Justin said, before he started to openly laugh at me. “You’re too booty-ful for those jeans.” He chuckled.
“I know, but…” I sighed, still struggling with them anyways. “I don’t have anything else and I really should have been gone by now.”
“You got like five minutes.”
Finally getting the pants on, I moved to sit up again. Bad move. “Goddamn these pants!” I groaned, struggling to be able to move to throw things in my backpack and breathe at the same time.
“K,” Justin said, his voice close to laughing at me again. “Just skip that class. Besides I think it’s probably a crime somewhere to stuff so much booty into such little pants. That has to be cruel and unusual punishment to your ass. Release the ass! It wants to be free.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “No, you want it to be free. And I just want to be able to make it through the day without passing out cause breathing and these pants ain’t happening.” I leaned over to kiss him goodbye before I’d planned on rushing like a madwoman out of the apartment, but no sooner did I get within arms reach did he wrap his arms around me, holding and keeping me close.
“Justin, I gotta go.” I whined without making any attempts to leave.
“No, you don’t. Just skip class.” He said, already tugging on my jeans, trying to peel it off of me. “And release the booty.”
Laughing, I said, “My mama always said you were a bad influence on me.”
I watched as his nose scrunched up at my comment. “Really? She really said that?”
“Yeah, but you know she likes you anyway,” I said, before adding with a smile, “for some strange reason.”
We were silent for awhile, with me still laying on top of him and his arms still comfortably wrapped around my waist.
“Guess, I’m not going.” I sighed, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was 11:05 a.m. now.
“Good, now you can spend the day with me and Trace.”
“With you and Trace?” I echoed, frowning.
“Yeah, I’d already planned on hanging with him today, but now since your day has just freed up…we can make a threesome outta this.”
“Threesome, huh? What exactly did y’all plan on doing today?” I said, raising my eyebrow at him curiously.
He frowned at my double meaning. “Meaning the three of us, hanging out and doing stuff together today.”
“Oh.” I said. “Doing what stuff though? It’s not like there’s so much stuff a celebrity of your caliber is able to do without being mauled in the process.”
Rolling his eyes at my sarcastic spin on reality, he replied, “Well…I dunno, we could…go bowling…”
“Bowling? This is the big fun that y’all had planned?”
“Well…yeah.” Frowning at my frown, he added defensively, “It’s not like you’re living your life on the edge either.”
Pulling away from him, so that I was straddling him now, my eyes narrowed on him as I said, “Oh, I live a very dangerous life.” Groaning, I added, “As we speak, I’m currently in danger of a yeast infection, so I need to get the hell up outta these pants!”
His nose crunched up again, at my usage of the words ‘yeast’ and ‘infection’ together, but that didn’t deter him from focusing on the last part of what I said. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Release the booty, set it free!”
Shaking my head at him I couldn’t help but laugh. “Whateva, anyways, I’m gonna go shower and change into some pants that are breathing friendly, maybe do a quick load of laundry…and in the meantime, you need to think of something better than bowling to do.”
Golfing.
This is how Trace and Justin had planned to spend their day. Golfing. There’s a million things I could be doing now that would be ten times better than this…like, I dunno, say…sleeping. Or eating. Watching TV…while I’m eating and about to fall asleep.
Why did I open my big mouth and talk bad about bowling? Why?! I could have been bowling instead. Instead of watching Justin and Trace check the air, take two years to swing, followed by them spending most of their time hunting for the balls that they had already hit “ only to find about thirty percent of them.
And even if they had chosen to do something more exciting, I still should have declined, if not for the sake of attending my Abnormal Psychology lecture but at least on principle’s sake. The principle being: Justin, Trace and I don’t hang out.
Justin and I hang out. Justin and Trace hang out. But Justin, Trace and I do not hang out, in, or otherwise. It just doesn’t happen. Or at least it hasn’t since I’ve given up trying to be accepted by him, realizing that he’d just be added to the long list of people who love to hate me. And so when Justin asked me to hang out with the two of them, my first thoughts were 'hell no!'
But here am I. Not like I’m doing much anyways. I’m just kind of hanging back in the shadows letting the boys do their thing. Justin occasionally comes over to me and makes some stupid remark which will make me smile, before asking me if I’m bored. And of course I’m bored! I’m only watching the most mind-numbingly boring sport in existence. Hell, I’d rather watch a game of tennis than this. Someone shooting pool. Someone bowling. Someone driving around in circles - also known as Nascar racing.
“Justin what kind of boyfriend are you?” Trace said, finally voicing what he’d been thinking for awhile. “You bring your girl along, only to leave her with your clubs?”
Glancing up from where he’d been positioning himself for his next shot, Justin said, “She doesn’t want to play.”
“Does she even know how?” He asked annoyed by Justin’s simple answer.
“Nope.” Justin replied, squinting into the sun to find his target.
“Then why don’t you teach her?” Trace suggested. “I mean, look at her…she looks like she’s counting the number of brain cells she’s losing from so much boredom.”
Sighing, Justin shrugged. “She’s always bored.”
Trace shook his head at his friend, watching as he wound back to finally take his shot. Seeing the ball roll off into the lake again, Trace sighed and turned toward where K was sitting, staring off into space. “Hey, K…you wanna play?”
“Hey, K…you wanna play?”
That was what, three rhymes in one breath? Hmmm, damn, I must really be bored out of my mind to notice something like that. Bored is such a boring word. Even dull is better than bored. Blasé, now there was a much better way to say bored. Do you see how disenchanted, indifferent, unconcerned, uninterested, unmoved, apathetic, aloof, and in- or uncurious I am right now to be thinking about such an inane thing?
Looking up, my eyes registered what my ears already had. Justin wasn’t the one who was calling me over. Why wasn’t Justin the one calling me over?! And why was Trace taking such a sudden interest in me?
Just now wasn’t the first time today either. On the ride over here, he kept being weird, asking me things like…how I was, what I’d been up to lately. The Trace I used to know and hate would have never even bothered to pretend to be interested in me. Okay, so maybe hate’s a strong word. Let’s just say I was wisely suspicious of him “ it had eventually gotten to the point where I didn’t accept food or drink from him. Never knowing what devious thing he could have done to it moments before he handed it over to me.
And now when it was obvious that the three of us hanging out entailed the two of them golfing and me wondering why I’d listened to Justin and hadn’t dragged my tight pants wearing self to class…here he was trying to include me.
“K?”
“Huh?” I said, looking up and realizing he was standing right in front of me now.
“I said, ‘do you wanna play too?’” He repeated, watching me expectantly.
“Nah, that’s okay. Y’all play.”
“But we’ve been playing and I feel bad seeing you just sit and watch all the time.”
I wanted to ask why he cared, but resisted. “It’s okay, really.” I said, shifting slightly. My booty was starting to hurt from sitting in the same position for so long.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You must be under the impression that I was asking you.”
Raising an eyebrow in an ‘Oh yeah?’ expression, my left hand was planted on my hip while the right was raised and pointing at him before I realized my defensive stance a “Look…” had already escaped my lips.
“I was just joking.” Trace laughed at my reaction, his own hands raised in a mock surrender.
Relaxing my stance back into the bored one, I said, “Oh.”
“So are you gonna play?”
Sighing, I remembered that just like Justin ‘no’ wasn’t an answer he accepted. “I don’t even know how to play.”
He smiled then, knowing I was on the road to giving in. “That’s okay. I can teach you.”
Once I’d reluctantly agreed to be taught the game and had dragged my feet over to where Trace and Justin had been playing, one of the first things Trace said to me was, “Golf is like sex, it’s all about the shaft.”
I’d merely raised my eyebrow at that comment and shook my head with a laugh.
Justin wasted no time in stepping in. “Hey, that’s my line!” He frowned, glaring at Trace. “I came up with that.” He added, looking at me as if that was something to be proud of.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured when you said ‘hey, that’s my line!’ But thanks for clearing that up though.” I smiled at him.
Trace laughed at that, before walking up to Justin and clapping his hand on Justin’s back. “Yeah, man, you should have just let me have that whack ass line.”
“Man, shut up.” He frowned, shrugging Trace's hand off him. “That’s a good line and it’s true, which means there ain’t nothing you, little man, could teach her about golf that I haven’t already taught her under the sheets.” He added, cockily.
“We’ll see.” Trace smirked, taking me by the hand and guiding me over to the tee. Placing a ball on it, he stood up and said, “Okay, take this.” He said, handing me a club. “Bend your knees like this.”
“Like this?” I asked, attempting to mimic his posture, but feeling a bit foolish in the process.
“Here, I’ll help you.” He said, sidling up behind me and gently guiding my body into the correct position. Taking my hands into his, he showed me the proper way to swing the golf club.
“If you really wanna learn, I could teach you.” Justin piped up, clearing his throat. “I mean, I’m the better golfer between the two of us.” He said, gesturing between himself and Trace.
I glanced up at him and saw the distinct beginnings of jealousy in his eyes, before I then become overly conscious of the position of Trace’s and my bodies together. It was a very intimate embrace and it obviously made Justin uncomfortable. Clearing my throat, I suddenly became uncomfortable too.
“Nah, actually it’d be better if I just sit this time out and let y’all play.” I said, moving away from Trace and back towards the golf cart. The thought of just driving around in that cart appealing more to me than playing a game of golf anyways.
“Are you sure?” Trace asked.
I turned around to face him again, the smile that was working its way up my mouth halting at the sound of disappointment in his voice. What did he care if I played or not?
He was probably just disappointed that he’d missed a chance to find yet another thing to make me look like a fool with. I bet when Justin told him that he’d invited me to come along, he’d been nothing short of disappointed then “ having never liked the idea of having to spend time in my presence.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m not much of a golf person anyways.” I replied, returning to my position in the driver seat of the golf cart. I could feel their stares on my back as I’d walked away, but by the time I was perched on my seat again and had glanced back at them - they were laughing and talking in their usual way.
Just the two of us. Just Trace and me. I’d tried to get Justin to let me go get the sandwiches, but he’d just shook his head and insisted that it was better that he go because he wanted to make sure his sandwich was made a certain way. So here I was…
Just the two of us. Just Trace and me. He’d been trying to make some small talk about the weather at first, but when the most he could get out of me was ‘Yeah, it is hot.’ He’d resorted to talking about whatever random thing popped into his head. I never knew how random he could if given the chance. He talked about some song he’d heard on the radio. Then how people watch too much TV nowadays and don’t read enough. Then he went on and on about all the reality TV shows, before raving about a book he’d read recently that was based on a true story. Which somehow led him to talk about video games, specifically True Crime and Grand Theft Auto, giving me a point counterpoint on which one was better. Then he was quiet for some time. Thirty seconds to be exact “ if my one Mississippi, two Mississipping had been correct.
That was the last time I’d bothered listening, so now I haven’t a clue what he’s rambling on about. “Why are you being so nice?” I blurted out, after having suddenly turned toward him.
He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by the question; it was like he’d been expecting me to ask it eventually. Shrugging, he said, “Because that’s what nice people do.”
He must have noticed the smile and roll of the eyes that I’d been trying to suppress…unsuccessfully, because the next thing he said was, “I know in the past I haven’t always been…the nicest to you.”
“To put it lightly.” I scoffed.
He laughed softly, his head downcast slightly.
“Was there a reason you didn’t like me? Was there something I did? Or was it because I was cutting into your precious Justin time?”
He chuckled again, this time looking at me. “Nah, it wasn’t that.” He shook his head. “I guess, I was just jealous.”
“Of what?” I asked, geniunely baffled as to what he could be have been jealous about.
“Of Justin…of you. Of you and Justin together.” He shrugged. “I mean, I guess I was already used to being his sidekick by the time you came along; used to seeing him getting all the ladies and whatnot, excelling at everything and turning everything he touched to gold. But…”
“But why not mess with Justin then? And what did I have to do with that?”
“I dunno. You were different. You didn’t fall for his shit…at least not in the beginning. So I thought finally this was one chick…”
“Chick?” I said; my arms already crossed over my chest.
Laughing, he corrected himself. “Sorry, I meant to say…so I thought finally this girl would be different. She’ll be the kryptonite to Justin’s Superman. And at first you were…then you became less like kryptonite and more like the ‘S’ on his chest. And I dunno…I was jealous. So I did what any little boy does when they’re jealous…I tried my best to piss you off.”
“Why Juan Trace Ayala the third, if I didn’t know any better I’d say that you used to have a crush on me back in the day.” I laughed, finding the very idea of him having a crush on me completely and utterly absurd - that is until our conversation tripped and fell into an uncomfortable lull and my eyes reluctantly found his gaze.
“Maybe I did.” He replied, giving up a small lop-sided grin. “And instead of telling you that I looked for ways to annoy the hell outta you cause I knew it didn’t matter what I did…you weren’t going to choose the sidekick who would grow up to be Justin Timberlake’s personal assistant.” He shrugged, shyly. Defeatedly resigned. “I know I’m always going to be second best. The best friend of the one everyone wants.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I had no idea that he’d felt that way, I’d always just assumed that either he was just a jerk or there was just something about me in particular that he didn’t care for. Those had always been the logical reasons for his seeming dislike of me. Those were the simple answers. I hated how the truth tended to complicate things that otherwise would be so…straightforward.
I’d been so deep into my thoughts’ travels that when I first heard Justin’s voice, I jumped at the sound of it.
“Have y’all been fighting again?” He asked, looking between Trace and me suspiciously.
Neither of us said anything for a few beats. “What do you think?” I said, finally regaining my speech as I climbed out from under the heavy silence.
“Y’all need to get over whatever problems y’all have. Cause I like this “ Me, my girl, and my best friend hanging out. It’s nice. So don’t mess it up with y’all’s stupid shit.”
We both nodded, letting Justin think that he was straightening us out.
“Good,” He smiled, looking at both of us before slinking his arms over our shoulders and pulling us together. “Now we can be the three musketeers together, like I always wanted.”
I groaned with a smile on my face, hearing Trace groaning along with me. I glanced over at him, catching his eye. He smiled back at me, before shaking his head at Justin and calling him ‘one corny ass goofball who he was ashamed to call his best friend.’
And I knew that whatever weirdness had fallen over between us earlier had passed. Or at least that’s what I was going to pretend in the hopes that reality would follow my lead.
My heart was beating double-time and if my adrenaline hadn’t of taken over a while ago, I’m sure the sheer heat would have knocked me off my feet by now. I rushed around another corner and ducked under an overhang. Crutched down now, my ears strained to hear if I’d been detected “ listening carefully for the chance that footfalls may be coming my way.
The silence was deafening. It shouldn’t be that quiet. Where was Justin? Where was Trace? I slowly began to rise enough to kneel, peering out of a small peep hole that the construction I was tucked away in offered. Still nothing. Not a damn thing to be seen. Where the hell were they?
Had Trace switched sides and was off somewhere planning my ambush with Justin? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted his ass to be on my side!
A loud sound exploded to the right of me, I ducked down instinctually. I heard the voice that cried out after the shot. It was Trace. He’d been hit.
Dammit, he’d been hit! When I brought up us going paintballing I’d had visions of myself of being like Lara Croft the Tomb Raider, or Jada Pinkett in the third Matrix. I was supposed to come in and immediately start kicking ass and taking names. But all I’d done thus far was run like hell and duck away the first chance I’d gotten. And now my partner was down.
Crawling out hesitantly, my eyes hastily surveyed the open area, hunting out any dark shadowy figure that would try to jump out at me. Without rising fully, I moved as fast as I could, pausing occasionally at the smallest sound that I’d heard. When I reached Trace’s fallen body, I sighed. There was only me now.
Taking his hand into mine, I shook my head as I eyed the several spots he’d been hit at. Justin had clearly taken no pity on him. Knowing from the rules we’d established at the beginning of the game, I knew that I was allowed a few minutes of mourning free of paintball fire and I was about to take full advantage of that fact.
“Noooooo. No! No! No!” I cried, skipping the build up and going straight to hysterics as I punctuated each ‘no’ with a slam of my fist to his chest.
He groaned, opening his eyes to frown at me. “Ouch, I’m not dead yet. Unless you came to finish me off.”
Laughing, I said, “Sorry, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
He smiled too. “Whateva. But listen…” He trailed off with a wince. “Listen…”
I nodded, leaning in to better hear him. “Yes?”
“Listen," He repeated urgently, seizing my hand with incredible strength for a person who was supposed to be holding onto life by a string. "I need to tell you something.”
“Okay, I’m listening.” I said, rubbing my hand as I pulled it out of his grip.
“Listen,” He started again, with a groan and cough. “I don’t know how much longer I have but…”
“What?!? Say it already!” I exclaimed in exasperation.
“Oooh, so your histrionic chest pounding is okay, but I can’t even have my last words?!” He said, trying to frown but failing.
“Yep,” I nodded. “I don’t have all day. And at the rate you’re going, he’ll be back and I’ll be in the same position as you.”
“Well I just wanted to say…” He trailed off again. Another cough. He grinned at my annoyed frown. “Are you listening?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, just checking. This is gonna be some deep Yoda shit, so you don’t wanna miss it.” He retorted solemnly. “Make sure you…”
Again his words faded off into the horizon and again my patience faded with them. “Make sure I what?”
“Make sure you run…”
“Yes?” I asked impatiently, checking the time. Two minutes had already past, if we reached three my no fire time would be over and paintballs would be launched at my ass.
“Make sure you run f---” He moaned and groaned then, his body twisting and contorting this way and that, looking more like he was having a seizure than dying of a shot wound.
I laughed as I shook my head at his over the top death, before closing his eyes. His body now motionless, he never did finish that sentence. Though it was pretty simple to decipher. Deep Yoda shit, my ass.
“Don’t worry buddy, I won’t rest until I take out the fiend who did this to you.” I whispered, before scurrying off in search of the enemy.
I’d walked around the place. Twice. And still nothing. The bright mid afternoon sun pelted me with enough UV rays to make me feel like I was melting. My body was glistening from its old school moist cooling system as I could feel the drip drop of beads of sweat leaking from the 20,000 pores on my face. My eyes scanned the area, searching out any kind of movement. Finding none, I began to wonder where my target had run off to.
I’d been looking ahead and to the side of me for so long that just when I’d started to turn to check behind me, a gentle warm breath tickled the nape of my neck.
“Looking for me?” The husky voice laughed at me. Lips, soft and delicate, brushed my neck as gingerly as an eyelash kiss to a cheek. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, feeling him suddenly press himself flush against my ample backside, his hand creeping sideways up my thigh. The temperature in my body skyrocketed.
“Watch where you put that hand before you mess around and pull back a nub.”
A low chuckle escaped the lips that were now hovering near my ears. His touch slowly retreated from my thigh, fleetingly grazed my right breast before disappearing completely. When several moments had passed in silence, I started to turn around to check for his departure. The feel of the sharp protrusion of what I was assuming was his paintball gun in the small of my back let me know he was still there.
“And yes, I am happy to see to you.” He whispered, dropping tender sweet kisses on the nape of my neck. “I was going to shoot you and get this over with. But I think it’s already clear who the victor is. And I’m ready for my spoils.”
Rolling my eyes at what I’m sure he thought to be witty banter, I said, “You want it huh? Then come and get it, big boy.” I then slowly rolled my ass into him before making a quick dash for it.
I could feel his paintball retaliation to my tease mere moments later as they whizzed past my head and shoulders. This boy was really trying to take me out! Since he had me on the run now, I knew that it would only be a matter of time before his aim improved and finally hit his target. But I had something for him.
Falling to my knees, I crumpled to the ground, groaning as I went for effect. Yeah, yeah, I know you’re probably thinking, ‘how many times do you think Justin will fall for your play possum act?’ Well, Justin’s obviously a much bigger sucker than you would have thought. As I speak, he’s slowly approaching me wondering if I was actually hurt - or even truly hit for that matter “ or if this was just another ruse. He’ll stand over me for awhile, just watching. Before his worry/curiosity would get the best him, making him want to check out his handiwork.
I laid as still as humanly possible in my face down position, taking in slow breaths when I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. He rolled me over after what felt like an eternity of listening and waiting. I could tell his mind was out of the game, otherwise his would have noticed that my clothes were clean except for a few dirt marks.
Leaning down, he held me in his arms. Undoubtedly his face was adorned with a smug smile of victory when he said, “Sorry I had to shoot ya. But all’s fair in love and war, right?”
Opening my eyes, I smirked. “Right.” I agreed. Gun raised, I shot him in the chest.
His cute little mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ his eyes wide in shock like a deer that had failed to notice the blinding headlights and incessant horn honking of the car that it had stepped directly into the path of. His hand clutched the paint spluttered spot, looking back and forth between it and myself. “Yo-yo-you shot me.”
“Yes,” I nodded, smiling proudly. “I did, didn’t I? It was a pretty good shot too, if I do say so myself.”
“You shot me!” He screeched ignoring my comments; his initial shock waning. “You fucking shot me! You cheated! I shot you first!”
The anger that was now etched into his otherwise adorable-looking face made it hard to resist smiling and or laughing at him. He had to be the cutest sore loser I’d ever seen. I shrugged before saying, “All’s fair in love and war, remember? It’s not my fault you weren’t focused. Just face it, I’m the master and you my dear have just been served up one lovely ass whooping!”
Justin was still frowning at me annoyed that he’d fallen for a trick I’d been using on him since we were kids, when I heard a voice call out to me.
“Did you kill him yet?” Trace called from where he was still laying down, pretending to be dead.
“Yeah, I killed his ass.”
“Good.” Trace said, getting up and dusting himself off as he walked over to me and a pouting Justin. “I’m hungry. Let’s find an I-Hop or something.”
Despite how much fun “ surprisingly “ I’d been having with the boys, I decided to call it a day. After Justin dropped me off, I headed quickly up the stairs dodging Nadine and her damn questions when I spied her exiting a car to the left of me. Tomorrow was move in day for Nate and the last thing I needed was to get a headache now. There would be more than enough of those to go around come tomorrow.
