Disclaimer-If I say I'm her do I get all the money for Twilight?…Yes?…Well, in that case; Yes, I am S.M.

Chapter 12- Are you thinking what I'm thinking that I think that you're thinking I'm thinking? Because if you think that I think what I think I'm thinking then we've got a problem.

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I watched in horror as Jared fished his car keys out of his pocket and pointed them towards a shiny red truck, clicking open the locks.

Oh, god. Please tell me it hasn't come to this.

Ok, I just need to calm down and consider my options for a minute here.

I could call my mother.

But that, of course, would have to involve being in the same car as my mother, a situation I've long since sworn off. Ever since she got out of the car to help direct traffic outside my middle school when the crossing guard was nowhere to be found.

Needless to say, I walked home till Ally got her license.

I could call Ally to come and get me. Except that this is her designated homework time (yes, you heard me correctly. She designates time for homework. I love her, but she couldn't be a bigger nerd if she bought a pocket protector and tried out for the marching band) during which her cell is always turned off.

Sara and Tiffany both can't drive, so they're out.

I could always walk home. I mean sure, it looked like hail but when was the last time a couple of golf ball sized ice chunks hurt anybody, really?

"Kim." Jared's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to look at him, still calculating alternate ways home, "Yeah?"

"Just get in the car." he sighed.

I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting.

He rolled his eyes, "Please." he amended.

Hail or Jared?

Physical bruises or mental ones?

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I suppose mental one's would heal more quickly….I think….I hope….I'll let you know.

Jared saw my will tearing down and broke out into a huge grin.

"Great!" he said enthusiastically before turning around and walking to his car, checking over his shoulder a few times to make sure I was following him (Which I was doing, only with considerable amounts of reluctance).

"Yeah, great." I mumbled while following Jared's large form across the empty parking lot.

Jared had one of those really nice, brand new shiny car's that all of the preferred kids have. Tiffany had made up the term preferred kids (or P.K for short) in elementary school when it started to become obvious that some of our classmates were preferred over others by the adults.

The P.K's always got the top cubby's, the cleanest nap mats, the new boxes of crayons and were generally good looking, good at athletics and had rich parents and clothing from the baby gap.

The P.K's, of course, grew up to be the P.T's (preferred teenagers) and now had things like designer clothing, the latest cell phones and shiny new expensive cars.

Needless to say, Jared was a P.T.

And in case you haven't gathered so yet, I'm not. A P.T, that is.

I stood back while Jared walked over to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for me. I had watched Amy get in this car countless times, a sight that was always amusing. The car was to high up for her and she would attempt to launch herself into it until her belly was on the seat and her bony little legs were flailing out the car door while she tried to right herself.

I, however, am no Amy Fink *shudders at the thought*.

I easily pulled my body up into the truck and settled myself into the seat while Jared closed the door behind me and walked around to the other side. I took this opportunity to take a look around and do what all girls do best; judge.

Like most boys, Jared kept his car immaculately clean, with not so much as one crumpled fast food wrapper on the floor or spare change in the ashtray.

I stopped my inspection as the drivers side door opened and Jared slid in with grace you usually don't see with people his size. I wonder if he ever took ballet.

I quickly smother a laugh over the mental image of a six foot- eight Jared in tights, twirling in tune to classical music.

Jared shot another glance at me, before smiling hugely and putting his keys into the ignition.

"Seatbelt."

I looked away from where I was watching the empty parking lot to look at the large man sitting next to me, "Huh?"

"Seatbelt." Jared repeated, looking meaningfully at my unfastened seatbelt.

He hadn't started driving yet, instead opting to sit in the empty parking lot and nag me about useless safety precautions like he was Ally's counterpart.

"You can't be serous." I stared at him flatly.

Jared frowned, "About what? The seatbelt?" I nodded at him, "Why wouldn't I be serous about the seatbelt?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "My house is like five minutes away and it's all back roads. You're not going to get a ticket."

"It's not about the ticket," frowning seems to have replaced gawking in awe for the position of his favorite thing to do around me.

"If it's not about the ticket then what's the problem?" I frowned back at him, just to let him know he wasn't the only one who could do it.

Jared shrugged, "Well, what if we crash?"

I sighed at him. This, apparently, was going to be another repeat of my weekly argument with Ally.

"If we crash, I highly doubt the seatbelt is going to help me." I informed him, with a scoff.

"Of course it is. That's what it's there for."

"Oh, come on! Look at this thing!" I tugged on the seatbelt and held it out for him to see, "It's like half an inch wide! I weigh like a hundred and sixty pounds. This little piece of dental floss won't save me. If anything it'll decapitate me."

"If it wasn't going to save you then why would they bother putting it there?!" Jared exclaimed, exasperated.

Personally I was just thrilled to see an expression other that awe on his face.

I was even more thrilled when the realization that I was annoying him set in. It's about time I returned the favor.

"If you're so sold on the virtues of the seatbelt, then why aren't you wearing yours?" I asked, glancing meaningfully at his seatbeltless chest.

Jared paused for a minute and looked flustered, "Well, I don't need one."

I scoffed at him, "And why is that? Are you made of steel? Do you, by any chance, go by the name Clark Kent by day and fight crime at night?"

"No," he was starting to look peeved. Good.

"Then why is it that I desperately need to have a seatbelt on but you don't? Why are you any less likely to splatter like a bug all over the street?" I asked, sarcastically.

"I'll take my chances." He retorted.

"And so will I." I informed him, sitting back and crossing my arms stubbornly.

Jared groaned loudly and twisted the keys, the engine purring to life. I smirked, content that I had won that battle.

Until, of course, we started to move. Jared had apparently decided to compensate for the lack of a seatbelt by driving as slowly and carefully as my great grandma Fey in a snow storm.

In fact I think old Fey had more of a lead foot.

When roughly five minutes had passed and we were just reaching the exit of the parking lot I screamed my frustration and threw my hands up in defeat.

"Fine! Jesus, you win!" Jared looked over at me, seeming startled by my outburst, "I'll wear the fucking belt if you'll drive faster then an infant can crawl."

I didn't wait for his response before yanking the seatbelt roughly around me. Unfortunately my movements were too quick and jerky, since the seatbelt locked itself up, causing it to more or less strangle me after I had it around my body.

Great.

Jared didn't comment, but he did speed up…by like five miles an hour. *Sigh*

We drove in silence for a few minutes before Jared cleared his throat and glanced over at me for roughly the three-hundred and twentieth time since I got in the car.

"So…why were you here so late?"

"My teacher wanted to talk to me," I answered shortly.

Just because desperate circumstances had driven me to accept a ride from him didn't mean we were suddenly going to be friends or anything.

Apparently Jared didn't get the whole no-friends memo.

"What about?" he asked, nosily.

I sighed and looked more determinedly out my window, "Stuff." I said, vaguely.

We lapsed back into silence for a few more minutes before curiosity got the best of me.

"How about you?" I asked, "Why are you here so late?"

Jared turned pink a little and cleared his throat again, "Just…you know, hanging around."

Ah. Stupid question. Stalking is a full time job, after all.

It occurred to me, perhaps a little too late admittedly, that it might not have been my brightest of ideas to get into the car with my little would-be-stalker here. These are just the kind of things you yell loudly at people in bad horror movies for doing.

It also didn't help that he apparently already knew where I lived, if the direction he was driving in was any indication, with no directions whatsoever from me.

Oh, shit. He's going to kill me and dump my body in the woods, I just know it.

Damn it! Why do these things always have to happen to me?

Ok, Kim, just calm down. Deep breaths. That's it; in-out, in-out, in-out.

Fuck it. Breathing won't help me.

I stealthily turned myself in my seat, despite the chokehold my seatbelt still had me in, and glanced around the small back seat to look for any blunt objects that might be able to double as a weapon in case I needed to Jackie Chan my way out of this situation.

"What are you doing?" Jared asked, confused.

Apparently I wasn't as discrete as I thought I was in my little search.

"Nothing," I said, righting myself in my seat and making little squinty eyes at him, to let him know that I was on to him so he better not try anything funny.

He shot me a concerned look out of the corner of his eye. Like I was the potential rapist and murdered in the car.

"So…do you want to grab a bite to eat before you head home?" Jared asked hopefully. "There's this great little burger joint down by the pier."

"I'll pass." I said, rudely, and without thinking "I don't make it a habit to have casual meals with my stalkers."

No! Come back words!

Why? Why, mouth? Why did you have to decide to taunt the potential serial killer?

Jared froze, and slowly turned to look at me.

"You think I'm stalking you?" he sounded angry, which was a first for him so far as I could tell.

When he wasn't standing you up at school dances as a joke he was usually a pretty affable type of guy.

Not now though.

I watched as Jared's hands started to shake slightly on the steering wheel.

"Well, what would you think?" my mouth continued on without any consent whatsoever from my brain, "You just happen to turn up everywhere I am? Yeah, right. You're outside of everyone of my classes, you stare at me in the lunch room, and you coincidentally happen to 'hang around' the same day I have to stay after school. It sounds a little bit stalkerish to me."

"You honestly believe I'm stalking you?" he asked, disbelieving.

Well, I don't think I like what he's implying here.

"What?" I snapped at him, causing his eyes to widen, "I'm not good enough to stalk, am I?"

"NO!" Jared said quickly, backtracking. From the look on his face I could tell he was confused about how the tables had gotten turned on him so quickly.

"No, what? No, I'm not good enough to stalk?" I sent my best glare a him, my head swimming with visions of his immediate castration.

Either Jared was a mind-reader or my look spoke volumes. Either way, he scrambled to cover his mistake.

"Of course you're good enough to stalk!" he stammered, "You're great. Who wouldn't want to stalk you?"

"So you admit it?"

"Admit what?" he asked, looking wary.

"That you're stalking me," I confirmed.

"Of course not!" Jared exclaimed, looking outraged.

"So, it's a total coincidence that you suddenly just happen to be everywhere I am? That every time I look at you you're looking at me?" I asked, doubtfully.

"Well…no," he admitted.

"Aha!" I exclaimed, ready to get out my phone and call the cops.

"Wait!" he said before I could so much as reach towards my bag, "I'm not stalking you! I wouldn't call it that."

"Then what would you call it," I inquired.

"It's more like…watching intently." he said, slowly.

Oh, puh-lease. That's just what they say before they start steeling your underwear and scaring off all your friends.

I made a noise of doubt in the back of my throat, but we were turning the corner of my house so I didn't push it.

Jared rolled the car to a stop in front of my house and I disentangled myself from the malicious seatbelt.

"Good-" I slammed the car door shut half way through his good-bye and marched myself up the steps and quickly let myself in to the house, not looking back behind me, where I knew he was watching me.

I locked the door behind me. It never hurts to be too safe, just in case.

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Review or I'm going to run you over with Jared's truck…..please opt to review. I have no idea how I'd get my hands on his truck.