Justin went banging on my door about twenty minutes later. I opened the door and he wolf whistled.

"Don't make me slap you again, Bieber."

"I already had to cover the marks. And it's Justin."

"I'm not calling you that. Why couldn't you have hired Brittany or something?"

"Because she's not as smoking hot as you."

"Shut the- up."

"Ooh, sassy, aren't we? I like it!"

"Shut. The. -. Up."

He wolf - whistled. Now I had a feeling it was just to annoy me. He walked me out to the limo, and then he said that I was going to have to pretend to be his date.

"Shoot me."

"Not someone as hot as you. But please, don't screw up like you screwed up at the concert."

"I didn't screw up, I was honest about how freaking stupid you are!"

"Shut up."

"I just told the truth."

"Anyway, please. Just pretend to be my girlfriend."

"In your dreams."

"Why not?"

"There are rumors circulating around the school that I'm your –ing slave girl, for crying out loud! You think I want more of that?"

He looked me up and down.

"I wish."

"You're a major pervert."

He grinned.

"Sooo… would you prefer a gold bikini or a silver one?"

I slapped him again.

"Don't make me play that at the dinner party."

"How can you?"

I took my phone out of my pocket and pressed play. The whole conversation repeated.

"She's hot, sassy, and smart. The total package." He said.

"The package you won't get."

"Watch me."

"I'd prefer not to turn to stone."

"Very good."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What, gorgeous?"

"Don't call me that, and why me?"

"Well, you're the hottest girl I've ever seen, and –"

"Brittany would actually make out with you without slapping you. Isn't the pain a hint to let me go?"

"So you're my prisoner?"

"No, and I don't plan to be."

"Anyways, shawty, Brittany's an ugly, evil little freak."

"I think that's the first logical thing you've ever said."

"See, we do too have things in common."

"Shut the crap up."

"Why should I, shawty?"