You Don't Know Me Chapter 2, a twilight fanfic

Beta'd by the breathtaking and artistic Sparkling-Iris and the oh-so-very remarkable and very awe-inspiring Aretee!

Many thanks to those who added YDKM to their alerts/favorites

A multiple wave of gratitude to those who reviewed and I hope you enjoyed the sneak peak I sent your way. Same rule applies for this chapter. Review, and a sneak of Chapter 3 will be in your inbox by Sunday.

Pics of original characters and places are on my profile under You Don't Know Me and If You're Not the One.

Chapter 2: Not That Simple...

Rich POV

The music from downstairs blared at an abnormal volume, causing my temples to throb.

Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
All these chicks popping pu$$y, I'm just popping bands
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
These chicks clappin', and they ain't using hands (x2)

"Twerk, twerk, twerk!" I heard someone yell, followed by, "Ohhh, shit!" along with some annoying hooting and hollering.

Short hair like Nia Long, loose one she don't need it loan
She start twerking when she hear a song, the stripper pole her income
We get trippy and then some, so nasty when she rolling
She put that ass off in my hands, I remote control it
She give me dome when the roof gone, at the K. O. D. she live with me
She got friends bring three, I got drugs, I got drinks….

"This was such a bad idea," I groaned with frustration. How the hell did I end up volunteering my house as the spot for Donte's bachelor party? I removed my glasses and started rubbing my eyes. Being best man was starting to take its toll on me. The next six chapters of my latest true crime novel were due in two weeks to my publishing agent and they were nowhere near complete.

Bend it over, Juicy J gone poke it like wet paint
You say no to ratchet pu$$y, Juicy J can't
Racks everywhere, they're showing racks, I'm throwing racks
In the VIP rubber on I'm stretching it….

I slammed my laptop shut. "This shit is pointless." I moaned out loud, the words just wouldn't come.

"I have to get out of here," I muttered to myself, glancing out my window. Who would've thought that at twenty-six, I'd be sneaking out of my own house? Certainly not me. Donte would understand. We'd been friends for so long. He knew sometimes I just had to get away in order to collect my thoughts.

Truthfully, the loud music and the half-naked strippers downstairs weren't causing my writer's block. It was her.

Leah.

I tried my hardest to let her memory die, but I just couldn't, and she had been on my mind a lot lately. More than usual. No matter how hard I tried to focus on other things, memories of Leah taunted me relentlessly.

My life with Leah had been filled with daily adventure, laughter, and fun. She made me embrace each moment to the fullest.

She and I just fit. Like hands to a glove. Like, two peas in a pod. One body housing two souls. I thought we'd be together forever - as friends, if not lovers. So when she left without any explanation, I just didn't understand. The next two years without her had been filled with fear, uncertainty, boredom, and aimlessness. However, I tried to play it off well. But by year three I merely existed. I hadn't really lived in a long time.

Pretending to be something I'm not came easily to me since I had been pretending my entire life. I pretended to be the biological son of Daniel and Caroline Desmond, because my birth mother didn't want me and my real father was a serial-killing monster. Only Matt and Donte actually knew the truth about who I was.

Had it not been for Matt, Donte, therapy, and their meddling girlfriends, I honestly don't think I would have survived Leah's abandonment. The two were polar opposites in their way of helping me get over her. Matt thought I needed to pray the heartache away, while Donte thought I should sleep with as many women as possible.

I did neither, but met them halfway. Meditation along with casual dating. Still every girl I ever dated only reinforced my belief that Leah was irreplaceable. I should have been used to it by now. Thanks to my mom, I was all too familiar with the term abandonment. I guess that's why I always steered clear of love. If I couldn't get my own mother to love me, how in the hell could I get anyone else to?

I took a seat on the hood of my car, and inhaled the hot summer air. Underneath the moon's beam, as I watched the stars flicker in the clear dark sky, I found myself honing in on the brightest one of all. It reminded me of Leah; that's how I saw her. She stood out from all the other women that ever crossed my path. She was everything I always wanted. Too bad she already belonged to someone else...

The friend-zone; it's a shitty little place to be in. To have a platonic relationship with someone when all the hell you want to do is have him or her in a romantic way, but unfortunately, they just don't see that in you. Being in a position like that could take a toll on a guy's ego; and it did.

Leah was attracted to me. That, I was certain of, but it didn't change the fact that she was in love with Sam. Leah wasn't that type of girl. She didn't cheat. That amazing quality about her, only made me want Leah more. I was in love with her from the moment I saw her, and I only continued to fall deeper as I got to know her.

She was tough as a lion, but gentle as a lamb. How she managed to be that way was beyond me. She wasn't like any girl I met back home, or the college girls I encountered in my freshman year. Women I meet always lack substance. Perhaps that's another reason why I also avoided romantic relationships altogether. It was like Leah had been made just for me and there wasn't another girl who fit.

But our friendship had its hurdles. For starters, I could never visit her in La Push. Sam was way too jealous, and would most likely forbid Leah from being friends with me. So the best way to continue our friendship was in secret. Meaning, I couldn't meet her other friends or family because, although they wouldn't tell Sam about me, she didn't want her family to have to lie. I hated being her secret, but I was desperate to have Leah any way I could. I accepted her in any way I could have her. Even if that just meant as friends, no matter how much it hurt to be near her, unable to truly express my feelings.

In another two weeks, I was heading back to Stanford to start my sophomore year. Nonna and Gramps finally agreed to rent a place for me off campus with Donte and Matt, under the condition that I maintain my GPA.

Matt's girlfriend, Sonya, was moving in, also, while her younger cousin, Consuela, who was starting her freshman year, would use the last spare bedroom. I'd never met her before, but Matt vouched for her, and that was all I needed.

Most guys my age would be itching to get to college and celebrate their newfound freedom in a huge four-bedroom house, but I wasn't. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Leah. She made me feel alive again. We'd managed to hang out with one another every other day and our bond had only strengthened. We promised we'd keep in touch and I would be back for Thanksgiving, But I wasn't sure if I could handle not seeing Leah every day for the next four months.

Leah truly made me happy. I hadn't felt this good since I found Essie and Abby, but that happiness was so short lived. But, I had to put my feelings aside. Especially today; it was Leah's seventeenth birthday and she managed to get away for a bit so I could give her her present. I was in the middle of packing when my door swung open.

"Look who's here!" Nonna happily exclaimed, ushering Leah inside my room. "I just love your shirt, hinny," she laughed, kissing Leah's cheek.

"Thanks, Nonna." As I walked towards Leah and finally started reading her shirt, I immediately smirked. She was wearing a dark black t-shirt with white font in all caps that read: EVERYONE IS ENTITLED TO BE STUPID…BUT YOU ARE ABUSING THE PRIVILEGE.

"That's awesome," I chuckled, hugging her.

"Thought you'd like it," she quipped before letting go and plopping down on my bed as Nonna walked out. "I see you're packing," Leah observed as she sifted through my suitcase a bit. I could have sworn I heard a little sadness in her voice, but I wasn't going to call her out on it, I had to admit it made me happy knowing she would miss me. But the fact that I was leaving her made it all too bittersweet.

"You don't have any dirty magazines in here, do you?" She always used humor to camouflage her sadness. "Don't wanna have to disinfect my hands later."

"Not in this bag," I joked back, trying to keep the mood light. "Those are in my carry-on. The articles are so enlightening."

"Pervert," Leah grinned.

"What do you have there?" I asked her, finally noticing that she was holding something in her hands as I zipped my bag.

"I got you a little something," she replied, giving me a mischievous smirk.

"It's your birthday, Leah." As if I had to remind her, she had been excited about this all week and wouldn't stop rambling about it. "Why are you getting me something?" I added, a little confused as she rose from my bed.

"It's a going-away gift." She handed me the bag. I gave her a curious look before opening it. It was large gray t-shirt with black font: BEST FRIENDS ARE THOSE WHO, WHEN YOU SHOW UP AT THEIR DOOR WITH A DEAD BODY, SAY NOTHING, GRAB A SHOVEL, AND FOLLOW YOU.

I couldn't stop laughing. "This is the best gift anyone has ever given me." I pulled Leah in for another hug. "I'm really going to miss you." I held on a lot longer than I should've, but I couldn't help it. It felt so right and she smelled so damn good.

"Text me every day?" she murmured against my chest.

"Every day," I whispered back, finally letting go. It was written all over Leah's face. I knew she cared for me, maybe deeper than she should, since she had Sam, but she'd never admit it, and I wouldn't force her to, either.

I had fallen in love over one summer with an unavailable woman.

Could my life get any crueler than it had already been? I mustered up my best fake smile.

"Enough with the sappy shit." I playfully jabbed her in the shoulder before walking over to my desk and grabbing Leah's gift. It was in a purple and black bag with 'Happy Birthday' scribbled in fancy handwriting on both sides. "Happy Birthday, Leah Clearwater."

Leah's eyes immediately lit up as she pulled out the converse shoebox. "You didn't." She shook her head with disbelief as she lifted the lid.

"I did," I laughed. Leah had been eyeing the classic all-black Converse Chuck Taylor's for weeks. They had a black stripe mid-sole and All Star heel branding, finished with metal eyelets and a rubber toecap.

I watched Leah's fingertips trace the heel branding, just as her smile slowly faded and a forlorn look appeared across her face.

"Oh, shit. Did I get the wrong size? I thought I heard you telling Morgan you wore a 7.5." I could've sworn on it!

"It's the right size. This is perfect," Leah exhaled loudly. "It's just that Sam got me shoes, too." Instead of sounding happy about it, she sounded pissed. "High heels." High heels? Seriously? What the fuck! Leah didn't wear high heels. "Sam thinks I don't dress girly enough."

"What the hell does that even mean, Leah?" Dressing girly? "So you don't wear skirts every single day, who gives a shit? It doesn't make you any less girly than the next woman. You're perfect, Leah, whether you're wearing high heels or Chuck Taylor's." Or nothing at all for that matter.

"I prefer Chuck Taylor's." Leah finally smiled.

"Then wear them." I grinned back.

~XOXOXOXOXO~

"Oh, shit, you're doing it again," I heard Donte huff, taking a seat beside me on the hood of my car. "You're thinking about her."

"No, I'm not," I lied defiantly.

"You can't bullshit me, bro," Donte smirked, playfully shoving me. "You always get this weird constipated look on your face when she crosses your mind."

"Shouldn't you be inside stuffing dollar bills down someone's G-string?" I glared at my best friend.

A horrified look came across Donte's face. "Hell naw!" he exclaimed. "My soon-to-be wife said, and I quote, 'If I find out you even touched one of those skanky, nasty strippers: Voy a cortarte en pedacitos minúsculos!'"

I threw my head back and laughed; after taking Spanish for years, I understood Gi-Gi loud and clear.

"Now, I'm not fluent in the Latino language, but somewhere in there, I know she said something about cuttin' a brotha." He shivered. "And I ain't cool with that. I'm way too pretty to be getting this face cut up." He added ironing his goatee and eyebrows with his fingers.

Gotta love Gi-Gi.

"But all jokes aside," Donte's tone sobered up, "you alright, man?"

"You're right." I rubbed my hand across my face before continuing. "I was thinking about her," I admitted. "I'm starting to even dream about her." Damn, I sounded so fucking pathetic. "I try not to, but I can't help it." What's the use in pretending anymore? Might as well just keep it real. "I need answers, D. I need to know what I did wrong,"

"Don't start that shit again, man," he cut me off. "She stopped talking to you. You did nothing wrong." He sounded just like my shrink.

"Maybe something happened to her." There just had to be something more to this; a piece of the puzzle I was missing.

"It's been over three years, Ricky. She would have at least tried to contact you. Your grandparents claim they still see her around, right?" My best friend placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed hard. "She did a number on you, man. Don't go backwards," he urged me. "You gotta let her go."

If only it was that simple.

***BIG ANNOUNCEMENT (S)***

YDKM has been added to the When Gravity Moves community.

Many thanks to europ92; the awesome founder.

Review this chapter and a sneak peak of the next chapter will be in your inbox on Sunday.

Thanks again for reading!