Sorry for the long A/N. Responding to reviews because I hadn't had a chance to do it yet.

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Suefanficlover: Hahaha it seems like she is doesn't it :) Thank you so much for reading! :D

Tomatoes: Awwww wow thank you so much! Character progression is important…but I'm trying not to be too slow you know

Guest: Hahahahahaa yess exactly! I know I would get like that too around my past crushes. So embarrassing. Haha yes! Thanks for noticing that. I'm trying to put a few real-life qualities into their characters. Idk …more of the side plots will unfold later on :)

WalkinOnTheCityLights: Thank you :)

manhattanpizza: Hahaha are you sure about that?

vivi199898: Wooo I'm glad you are :D

Guest: Thank you so much! I'll try to have the next chapter up soon

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Apologies for any typos

Chapter 4: Conceal, Don't Feel, Don't let them know, Yes I'm quoting Frozen shhhh

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Friday came much too quickly for my taste. I didn't have the proper time to spend thinking about Taylor because the majority of it was spent anxiously scavenging my wardrobe. Or I did. But unfortunately for me I had the absurdly annoying ability to procrastinate on even the most simplest of tasks. In this case, picking out what I was going to wear an hour before meeting up with Demi.

I had never worried so much over an outfit in my entire life – well so far. Nothing was working. Absolutely nothing. Everything in that god forsaken closet was completely inadequate and full of sweaters that I wouldn't be able to touch until months from now. I scowled at the closet, cursing my illogical self and reasoning that invested the majority of its wardrobe to winter wear. I mean what kind of idiot spends all of their shopping money on boots and hoodies when the temperature hardly ever fell below 50 degrees? In the middle of December.

I huffed, throwing what felt like the hundredth unruly top over my head. It didn't help that I had absolutely no confidence whatsoever when it came to fashion. The mirror made its opinion of me blatantly obvious. Chubby face. Shapeless stick with only her boobs going for her – that was if I wore a pushup bra (even then it wasn't much of a significant asset, considering the lack of symmetry between them). And a mane of hair that would never wave the way I wanted it to, choosing instead to flop in my face.

I didn't even know why I bothered. It wasn't like Demi was going to reciprocate my drooling if she were to see me. I bet she would be poised, calm, cool and collected. The way I wished I would be. She'd probably wear the latest style. Hell she could look like a hobo and still look insanely good.

When I did finally settle for a semi decent outfit, I was unhappy. Miserably so. I fiddled with the ends of the collared blouse and surveyed myself in the mirror for what felt like the billionth time. The sullen girl stared back at me, pulling at the bottom of her denim shorts. Her expression clearly reading: what the hell are you getting yourself into you dumbass?.

I sighed, tiredly responding with a withering glare. I ran a hand through my hair, reaching for my purse and heading out the door. I carefully planned my escape, darting for the keys on the counter before my mom so much as had time to question me. I didn't think I could handle explaining to her why I was dressed up in more than my PJ's with a straight face.

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We decided that we'd meet up at the nearest Yogurtland around four. After pulling up into the parking lot, I kind of regretted agreeing to that. It was packed with cars and pedestrians, occasionally hollering at the other to get out of the way. I was five minutes late by the time I found a parking spot at the back of the lot (not that I was checking the time every 30 seconds).

And I was already flushed as I reached the entrance of the yogurt place. I wiped forehead quickly, trying to look as if I didn't run here (which I didn't but leave it to me to make the walk between my car to the entrance door a troubling sweaty feat, but to be fair the weather was kind of sweltering). I yanked the heavy door open, feeling the AC blast me with cool air and then promptly messing up my hair. Not that it mattered anyway, I kind of gave up on trying to tame it.

My eyes scanned the building, darting over the random people, kids with yogurt dribbling down their chins, other fellow teenagers piling yogurt after yogurt in their cups and employees watching them with narrowed eyes. Finally my gaze fell upon the person I was looking for. Demi was sitting at a corner table, head bent down over her phone, chin resting on the top of her water bottle.

I swallowed thickly

I straightened up and tried to make my stride casual after being consciously aware of how stupid I looked. I glanced around, only to find no one paying attention to my fumbling, and then proceeded to feel even more stupid than before.

Demi hadn't noticed my presence, nose still buried in her phone, even when I was standing awkwardly over the table. I opened my mouth, on the verge of greeting her when she lifted her head. Immediately her pale face broke out into a wide grin. A noticeably larger one than the one that she gave at the supermarket.

"Hey," she waved, sounding as if I told her Christmas was tomorrow. My stomach churned pleasantly at her expression. So warm. So comforting. So welcoming.

"Hi." I murmured shyly, internally scolding myself for not meeting her eyes.

"You look nice." Demi commented, the small smile still intact as her eyes looked me up and down. If it were possible, I would have more than likely melted into the linoleum floor.

"T-thanks." I blushed. Great Selena, you idiot. "You too. I mean, like, not that you didn't before because you did, I mean, like, um yeah." I frowned, clearly annoyed with myself and that unnecessary ramble. Thankfully Demi didn't feel that way or at least she didn't show it because she let out a short giggle.

"Thank you." She replied genuinely. It hurt how sincere she sounded, as if I gave her a million dollar compliment, instead of shitty, fumbling attempt of one. Oh god how the hell am I going to last the rest of this date thing? "I'm not much of a dress fan to be honest. But sometimes the weather calls for it right?" She laughed shortly, tossing a few locks of brown hair over her shoulder. I glanced down at her short, loose army green dress, trying not to get too distracted by the length. At this point I would have agreed with anything she said. And maybe I was swooning a little over the fact that she chose to wear sneakers instead of heels with the outfit.

"Oh, um sure."

She stood up, stretching. I watched as subtly as I could as the wrinkles of her denim jacket straightened at her elbows where they were rolled up.

"Shall we?" She asked with a smile, gesturing towards the yogurt machines. I flushed when the little curve formed at the corner of her mouth. Jesus Christ. I flushed, nodding stupidly. Her lips quirked, looking as if she wanted to laugh again. She didn't, instead walking over to the machines. I followed her, trying not to stumble over my feet.

Demi made the conversation. While it seemed as if I could only do the basic functions of nodding my head, or murmuring a quiet agreement. She talked casually, as if this were the normal thing to do. As if we were old friends who were just getting yogurt after a long day of shopping.

She moved to grab a few sample cups. I watched, amused. I was sure that dopey, besotted expression was evident as I continued to admire her spend the next minutes tasting the flavors over and over again.

She looked up from her slurping a tiny cup of a coffee flavored one, giving me an adorably puzzled expression.

"You going to get some? Or are you going to stare at me all day?" She smiled, tossing the cup into the bin and moving on to the next flavor.

"Oh, er, right." I moved to grab a cup, copying her actions. Finally she had settled for some extravagant fruity flavor with detailed toppings that just screamed an overdose of sugar, while I, on the other hand settled for a small cup of vanilla. I was hoping she wouldn't have noticed. Hoping that she would keep the conversation going on about what she was talking about – which happened to be school. Of course nothing ever worked in my favor.

"You have all of these flavors in front of you and you get vanilla?" She questioned incredulously as we waited in line to weigh the cups. I stared down at my own, feeling embarrassed at my pathetic cup, almost tempted to hide it from her sight. I didn't have the heart to tell her I wasn't much of a yogurt fan. But after a moment, her expression softened.

"You know, it's nice." Demi muttered, setting her yogurt monster on the scale. "It's like the foundation of flavors. I think people forget that vanilla goes well with everything."

Her warm, brown eyes twinkled as she said that, smile slowly dipping back into place. I felt my stomach flip and my face heat up. Shit she was deep. I mean I knew Demi Torres was never a stupid girl. I just never expected this.

I was in deep shit. Shit shit shit.

The cashier read her total. "No, I'm paying for both." She grabbed my small cup, before I had time to react, and placed it on the scale.

"Demi," I mumbled, briefly startling myself with how effortless the name rolled off my tongue. "I can – you don't have to…"

"I'm the one that invited you. My treat." She said with a tone of finality and swiping her card. I had no say. Or I didn't have the guts to have a say. She handed me back the yogurt and we made our way back to the table. Unfortunately we didn't do so as gracefully as I intended. Not that I was expecting a graceful arrival. Demi's shoe got caught on the leg of a chair and she stumbled into the table, grabbing my arm in a false sense of support (because really, I was pretty sure I was the clumsiest idiot that ever walked the face of the earth) and tugged me down with her. I tripped into her back, squishing her against the edge of the surface, and getting a face full of brown hair. I couldn't help it – no seriously I couldn't help inhaling. Where was I supposed to breathe? Something fruity filtered through my nose. Some kind of wondrous sweet scent invaded my senses in a glorious manner, causing a drunken dizzying spell to fall over me.

I moved away shakily, my nose still filled with the memory of the smell and thoughts of something about Adam and Eve and the devil's apple occupying my sluggish mind.

"Oh crap. I'm sorry Selena." Demi's voice pulled me away from my stupor. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"I was the one that practically turned you into a pancake and you're asking me if I'm hurt?" I questioned glumly, after I had noticed I got some of my yogurt on the back of her jacket. "I'm sorry!" I stammered, as she finally noticed.

"Don't worry about it."

"But-"

"Selena, it's totally fine." She reassured, stripping the jacket off. "It was my fault." She draped it over the back of an empty chair. She wiped the yogurt off with a napkin. "I'm not exactly the most coordinated person ever. It tends to act up when I'm really nervous." She muttered, rubbing her cheek uneasily. She was nervous? "Believe it or not, meeting new people terrifies me."

I wanted to ask her about it. I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Why would she say something as suggestive as that? I made her nervous because she wasn't a people person? It didn't make any sense. She was popular. I mean, she talked to everyone with ease that even made me jealous.

I wanted to press further, but one look at her embarrassed smile and I chickened out.

Instead, I sat on chair, as she did the same with another.

We fell back into easy conversation again, or at least she did, occasionally pausing to eat some of her yogurt. The fumble only put me about five steps back in the whole talking department with her. My face was still burning, as I was constantly reminded of how I was so pressed up against her for those splits seconds.

God you are such an idiot Selena why can't you watch where you're going?

She's the one that grabbed me!

Yeah but if you didn't have two fucking left feet you would have held your balance. Now look what happened! You ruined her jacket.

I sighed miserably without realizing how loud I was. Demi's eyes darted to my face immediately at the sound.

"Selena, really it's okay. It's not even my jacket. I borrowed it from Miley."

Miley Stewart. Another girl I went to high school with. Presumably Demi's best friend.

That only made me feel worse, which she realized instantly.

"I mean to say, Miley totally ruined a pair of my favorite heels before so just think of it all as karma."

"What happened?" I questioned tentatively. She jumped on my question.

"She threw up on them, while simultaneously breaking one of the heels." Demi mumbled sullenly. "I'm still in the process of forgiveness as we speak." She smirked. I let out an involuntary laugh, surprising myself for the second time, with how effortless it just came out. How easy it felt because it for the first time being around her, it felt natural.

Demi's gaze softened, and my stomach flipped at the sight. My laughter stopped immediately, as I rushed out a hurried apology.

"You're apologizing for laughing?"

"No – yes – but no – I mean sorry for your shoes." I could have slapped myself with how stupid I sounded. She waved a dismissive hand at the comment.

"They're just shoes. If it were my guitar I'm sure I would've killed her already."She smiled at me again, gently this time.

I wanted to make a clever comment. Maybe something about Taylor owning a guitar and music and all that jazz. But I felt the words die in my throat. Just as quickly as that natural feeling came, it went away, as I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was sitting in Yogurtland with Demi Torres eating yogurt. Was this real life?

The uncomfortable spell fell over me again. And the awkwardness just came back full force. I coughed nervously, looking at anything besides the girl sitting across from me. My face flushed, forcing my eyes to settle on her cup of yogurt. It was already melting and she wasn't even halfway done with it. I kind of felt bad because I knew she spent the majority of her time filling in the conversation bubble between us.

Demi's hands came into view, as she cupped her yogurt.

My eyes traced over her fingers, taking in the chipped purple nail polish against the bright neon color of the yogurt cup. I glanced down her fingers, towards her knuckle when something caught me off guard. Something I hadn't expected in a million years from her. Then again, why wouldn't I, it wasn't like I knew Demi Torres. But there was no mistaking it. It was there. Blatantly shining. Making its presence known. It was –

"Yes, it's a purity ring." Demi laughed, moving her hands together and twirling the offending piece around her finger.

"Oh, I wasn't…" I started, still staring at the band on her finger.

"Don't be fooled by it though." She continued, ignoring my blubbering apologies. "I only wear it so my mom doesn't freak out."

I didn't ask, despite the burning curiosity. Did that mean she wasn't a virgin? Not that that was a bad thing. But I mean how could she be? She was so cool, and beautiful, so ethereal. She looked like a girl who was so sure of herself. Who knew what she wanted. Who probably dominated the other person in the bedroom. I blushed heavily, looking way from Demi's eyes. Think of something else you perv.

"How's your ice cream – I mean yogurt?" I stammered out nervously, digging my own spoon into the frozen treat angrily at my inability to make anything coherent.

"Good. Why? You want a bite?" She put the spoon near my mouth before I gave an answer…or recovered from her sudden question.

"N-no thank you." I moved back in my seat. She giggled, as I tried to make sense of the recent discovery. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if I'd seen her wearing it back at the grocery store. Why did I even care so much anyway? It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like I was going to try seducing her or anything. Jesus fucking Christ Selena.

I didn't have much time mentally berating herself because Demi spoke, grabbing my attention in an instant.

"Selena, um, I, uh, I wanted to ask you something." She started nervously.

Crap. I started freaking out. What if she asked me something personal? What if it was something couldn't answer? What if she was asking you out? (wishful thinking).

"Okay." I muttered awkwardly. She furrowed her eyebrows, pushing her yogurt away. Her laced her fingers with each other and swallowed thickly. I wasn't sure if my eyes were deceiving me or if she was actually blushing. Freckled blushing skin. God keep a fucking straight face Selena don't you dare fucking start smiling like an idiot!

"Sorry, I just, um, I don't know how to say this." Demi laughed uneasily, glancing up at me. "It's just – I mean – I'm having a great time now and I don't want you to think I'm not or that I'm hanging out with you for any incentives." She ran a hand through her hair.

My heart started pounding heavily.

"You're really cool Selena. Um, and I like you a lot. I just, um, I wanted to know if…" She paused for a moment, staring at me uncertainly. I felt my blood boil. I didn't know what the hell was going on. Was this seriously happening? Was she about to say what I think she's about to say?

"If?" Yet another thing said out of my better judgment. The next thing that happened, happened so fast I wasn't sure if what happened really, well, happened.

"If you could do this huge, huge, huge favor for me. I'm sorry I really, really hate to be the person to ask. I told them I didn't want to ask but we really – I mean at this point we're just so desperate."

"What?" I still wasn't sure what exactly was going on as I stared at her pleading face.

"Oh, right um, so I'm kind of in this band. I mean it's not really a band. Not officially that is. All we do is practice in Miley's garage a couple of weekends, well when her mom isn't totally being a – you know. Anyway, we finally got like a gig next week at a house party and – um – our drummer Anna – you know Anna right? – yeah she can't make it and I really wanted to see if anyone can fill in for her…" She muttered apologetically. She did look it and slightly embarrassed.

"I don't know how to play the drums." I started numbly.

"No." She stated quietly, looking at me with hopeful brown eyes." But…Nick…?" The name hung in the air dryly.

Instantly her hopeful expression fell. "I'm so sorry I shouldn't – it's just that – I mean I knew you and Nick were friends – I thought I could just ask you – I'm sorry never mind forget it." Demi sputtered unnaturally. Actually I wasn't sure if her sputtering was unusual, but this was the first time I had ever seen her nervous, much less close up.

I wondered initially what made her react the way she did. Like Taylor, Joe, my family. The people I intimately knew. Was it that easy to see it on my face that Nick was a sore subject?

"It's okay." I muttered in the same vague tone. "It's okay, I'll ask him."

I had made the decision the second the request had came out of her mouth.

"You will?" She asked happily. I nodded my head robotically.

It all started making sense. Why she was so eager to give me her number. Why we were even hanging out the first place right now. Why she wasted her time making me feel nice. She just wanted me to put in a good word to Nick. She wanted Nick and used me to get to him.

Suddenly the yogurt felt like lead in my stomach.

I didn't think I'd ever felt more like crap in my life. Another exaggeration. But I was too bummed to even correct myself.

"Thank you so much Selena, I owe you one!"

Yeah. A big one.

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