I watched as he leaned over me, pinning me to the bed. He climbed on top of me, and whispered, "You like bad guys, huh?"
I wanted to say no. But Rodrick was my best friend and I had been crushing on him for a while, so I held back. "No. I just like you…" I said. He moved my red hair out of my face and pressed his lips onto mine. I could hear the party and the music.
I was in Rodrick's room. He told me he wanted to see me and talk to me alone. As he said that, he was glaring at my boyfriend. Now, I was lying here, making out with him on his bed.
He pulled away from me, and for I moment, I thought I had did something wrong. But, just then, the phone rang. Rodrick looked at me and I looked back. The phone kept ringing until there was a knock. Rodrick held his breath and I held mine.
We both knew this party was going to be over. The door cracked open and Greg walked in, holding the phone. We both exhaled when Rowley said, "Ew!" and Rodrick's eyeliner-ed eyes turned to slits as he climbed off of me. I looked up as Rodrick said, "What?"
"Mom wants to talk to you."
He grabbed the phone and said goodbye to the two, them locking the door when they left. He talked to his mom for a bit, lying by me and fingering my jeans. Finally he hung up the phone and threw it to his chair. He looked back over at me. "Where were we?" He asked, leaning over and kissing me. This time, I had pulled away.
"We weren't anywhere, Rodrick." I said. "Because as soon as you're done kissing me, you'll flirt with other girls. I know you."
"What if I stayed here with you, then could I kiss you? Can I show you that I've changed?" He pleaded.
"You can't change," I replied. "I know you." I looked into his chocolate-brown eyes and started to cry a little. "You've never liked me before I've had a boyfriend. You've never liked me before I was a model. You've never liked me when I wore boy-shorts, or had short hair, or barely wore any makeup!" I yelled, startling him.
I bursted out into tears, reminding myself of what I felt like before I turned pretty. Of what I looked like, as well, only one thing was different. My mascara was running down my cheeks in sparkly streams of black. He looked pained and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
He looked at me and whispered, "But now I am mature enough to realize that I love you, Natalie! I love you than anything else in the world…"
I took a shaky breath and said, "Even more than your drumsticks?"
"Even more…" He said and tickled my side. I knew he was trying to get me to laugh, but I only exhaled. I was going to probably regret it, but I leaned over and kissed him.
He pushed away and said, "Give me you, Nat…"
And like a dog, I obeyed.