After about seventeen seconds, I knew this wasn't going to work.

"We've got to get him out of my place." I said to Angel. She smiled and gaped at me. "What?"

"It's not going well."

"Max, we literally just got up here." Oh God. She was giving me her no-nonsense face.

"Ange, it's just not going to-"

"Just talk to him." She whispered. "He's nice. Look, he's getting himself a cup of water. That's a good sign!"

"How?"

"It means he feels at home."

"Or that he's super obnoxious and thinks everything's his."

"Max, you're being ridiculous. Go talk to him"

I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen, jumping up onto the counter.

"So what's your angle?" I said, acting bored. He gave me a look, urging me to explain.

"Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged.

"C'mon, don't act like that. I bet you know exactlywhy I'm in."

He shook his head. I rolled my eyes.

"Wow, you've got to stop with the talking."

With a smirk, he took a sip of water, his eyes never leaving mine. "It's to get publicity for my career." He stepped closer. Dangerously closer. "And no- they didn't tell me why you're doing this."

That shocked me. He walked away, into the room with Angel, and she started to talk to him. I stared at the kitchen wall, just thinking. He was hot. Really hot. Was that weird for me to think that? I mean, all things considering, it might be good. I couldn't act like I was head over heels for a guy who was super gross.

I vetoed the concern.

After a minute, I looked back over at Nick and Angel. They were hitting it off. He was grinning, lips closed of course, she was smiling wide and laughing, and they were talking rapidly. Or, Angel seemed to be. Nick was nodding and putting one reply words in.

I grabbed my IPhone and texted Total. "Nick's here. You didn't tell me he was a mute." He sent back a super long, super boring message that went something like, "Don't annoy him blah, blah, blah… Don't give anything away blah, blah, blah… Don't kill anyone blah, blah, blah." Get my point? Good.

"What're we supposed to do?" I asked, sitting next to Angel on the couch. She shrugged and smiled. I admit, I got a pang of jealousy when I saw Nick watching her. I mean, I got it. Angel was perfect. She was a regular beach babe, with her hair and eyes and perfect skin and perfect personality and perfect attitude and perfect body and-

"Max?"

I snapped back into reality. "What?"

She giggled- actually giggled- and said, "I was given strict instructions not to let you two leave. "

"Really?" Fang said, taking a sip of his water. She nodded, kicking her feet up on the ottoman.

"Really." She affirmed. I rolled my eyes and took the remote, surfing the channels.

"There's nothing on T.V." I groaned, laying back down. "I don't have any food, either. Let's order takeout."

"Ew, Max. Takeout means grease, and grease means acne. No takeout for you."

"Okay. Pizza." I picked up my phone.

"That's an even worse idea than the takeout."

"God, Ange. Why don't you pick something then?"

And that, my dears, was how thirty minutes later Nick and I were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, picking through plastic cartons of organic sushi, vegetarian shrimp cocktail, and ungreased, no carb, no sugar, no fun noodles.

"I think this is part of a cow." I said, holding up a dried apricot. He smirked and watched me toss it into the plastic bag.

"Yum." Angel said, coming to sit down in between us. "I haven't had good food since I left Paris, but this… This makes up for it."

"What were you doing in Paris?"

I rolled my eyes as Angel effortlessly picked up the conversation with him and carried it with ease. I wasn't that outgoing or graceful. I didn't have her charm. I was awkward, and rude, and stupid. It was abundantly clear that if any feelings were going to be formed, it'd be between them.

After a while of agonizingly listening to them, I walked into my room and locked the door. Nobody tried to come get me all afternoon.

Day number 2,000,001 of being second best.