Just don't ever listen to me when I say I'm going to update soon. Things got in the way. And unfortunately I couldn't finish the chapter at the time I said I would. Sorry :(
Apologies for the typos
Chapter 6: We're Friends, Right?
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My phone was silent.
It was an utterly depressing experience. Even just looking at the phone was exhausting. If I was wallowing away before I didn't even know what to call this. Nick made no indication to want to speak to me ever again. Which honestly I didn't know why I wasn't expecting that.
I was officially not on speaking terms with Joe either. After that horrible fiasco that happened in the Gray house, Joe decided that insulting him was one of the worst offenses I could've ever done. Why he chose now to be a moody jerk was beyond me. And Taylor was MIA since that day. I wouldn't be surprised if she was too busy mending that idiot's broken ego to acknowledge my existence. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was being dramatic, and perhaps a little harsh.
These were trivial problems in retrospect. We were friends. Friends fight all of the time, and they always find their way back.
It wasn't so much the fighting I was worried about, but more so the making up. I didn't know how long it would take, who would say what, and yet that wasn't even the least of my worries. Humiliatingly enough, the thing that plagued the back of my mind like a constant reminder, was the fact that Demi hadn't spoken to me since the day I tried to give her the news (emphasis on the try, considering I couldn't so much as type out the full message before chickening out). I couldn't help her.
I'm sorry I can't.
I can't ask him.
I didn't even know this girl well and I was already so hung up on her. And her lack of responses. Was it because I was of no further use to her? I had no value anymore in her eyes. On to the next one.
I had never felt so cheap before in my life.
It wasn't like anything she did was technically wrong. She didn't say she wanted to be friends. She said nothing of the sort besides: "let's hang out". And maybe that was code word for 'I need a favor' nowadays. Still, defending her didn't change the fact that it sucked…for lack of better words, it sucked ass.
It was a major blow to my already near non-existent self-esteem. Didn't she realize that? Couldn't she pick up on the fact that I couldn't even properly meet her eyes? She must have. It was the look she gave me towards the end of the date. That sad look in her brown eyes. Like she knew exactly what she was doing and how much it would make me feel like crap.
Yet I couldn't even find it in myself to get mad at her. And the urge to help her was stronger than the one to sulk in bed. If anything, the only person I was mad at was (Joe) myself. Was I really going to let myself be reduced to this pathetic sap over a crush? I was beginning to think this was karma for all of the shit I would write about the T.V. show characters and pairings I hated over the internet.
The rest of the day past by in continuing silence.
It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon, I finally got a response. And it wasn't one I was too thrilled with. It was the thing that I had been dreading ever since Demi actually gave me her number. A phone call. It was another thing I could add to the 'Selena hates' list (thank god to whoever decided to enforce the online ordering system for pizza delivery; I lost count of the number of times I'd have a mini heart attack ordering over the phone)
I watched as the phone buzzed, with Demi's name across the screen. I was tempted to let it ring. Let it ring, and then send a text hours later making up some lame excuse of being busy. But it was Demi. It seemed that she was the irrevocable game changer for my pathetic existence nowadays.
Plus, I hadn't heard from her in days. I realized how ridiculous it was to get those same butterflies in my stomach at the mere mention of her name. But I was shameless at this point; I picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Selena!" She exclaimed loudly from the other line. I heard a distant clamor in the background. "Sorry I didn't mean to yell it's loud in here. Give me a sec."
My heart was hammering in my chest as the background noise was slowly fading away. The familiar nerves were manifesting their way inside my beating heart.
"Sorry. I told the girls I was on the phone," I heard her scoff, and I pictured that pout on her face. The butterflies were in a riot. "How've you been?"
Miserable. Lonely. A complete wreck without you. Please say you like me.
I felt myself flush. "Um good, great. You?"
"Busy…yeah I mean that's kind of why I haven't really responded to you and I didn't want to seem, like, overly eager or anything. Jesus, did I really just say that out loud?" She let out a nervous laugh. "Ignore that. I'm an idiot."
Overly eager? If anyone was overly eager it was me, who, again, was smiling quite like the moron that I was. I really should win an award for this.
"Anyway, are you guys ready?" She prompted.
"Ready?"
"Yeah to come pick you up. Nick said you guys were ready. Just wanted to confirm with you. We're leaving in a few minutes. Will you be with Nick or am I picking you up at your house?" She trailed off, waiting for a response.
What the fuck?
I hesitated, one second away from questioning what was going on. But then Demi was speaking again.
"I mean I'd need your address because I don't– Miley what the hell – sorry um…" And then her voice faded away as I heard a new voice over the phone. One that I was only vaguely familiar with.
"-Hey, this is Miley-"
"-Miley seriously give me the ph-"
"-Demi's friend. Anyway you'll meet us at Nick's right because I don't know where the fuck you live and-"
"-don't be rude-"
"-we just really want to practice already okay?"
There was some rustling for a few seconds, and then Demi was back on the line, breathless.
"Ugh, I'm sorry about that. She can so obnoxious sometimes. But, um, is it okay to pick you up at Nick's? Are you fine with that?"
"Um-" But seriously what the hell was going on? "Okay?"
"Great! I'll see you in five!"
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It didn't take much to put two and two together. Demi was picking us up for their practice. What didn't make sense, however, was how the hell this was happening? Did she know Nick? If she did you idiot, she wouldn't have tried to go through you to reach him. Did she ask him herself for the favor? And if that was the case then why the fuck was my talentless ass going to this thing?
I found myself on the Gray's porch for the second time in less than a week. It shouldn't have been something profoundly significant, considering this was typically how I spent the majority of my childhood. Always dragging Joe and Nick out to play.
It was different now. Obviously. This was the last place I wanted to be.
I raised my fist and knocked gently, surprising myself with how willingly I did it. Then again, it could've been written off by how confused I was. I was only absently concerned of having that constipated look of concentration when Nick Gray opened the door. He looked at me for a moment, just as he did the previous time, except now he simply nodded in acknowledgement. Not even a smile.
"Hi." I greeted, feeling my insides twist as he grimaced in return.
"Hi."
He closed the door behind him. And like before, I immediately felt the indirect rejection.
There were a million and one things I wanted to ask him. How he found out about the favor. Did he know Demi? How was he doing? Was he still mad? Did he still –
"Miley texted me, saying that she was close." Nick said quietly.
Well, at least that answered one of my questions. But it just seemed to create even more. How did he know Miley? Were they close? I couldn't ever recall a time Nick ever brought the girl up in conversation. Before I could even open my mouth, however, a honk stole our attention. I swallowed the question, as a tan Suburban pulled up on the driveway, and from the porch I could see Demi in the passenger seat, Ray Bans in place. Jesus fucking Christ.
I swallowed thickly, following Nick down the steps towards the car. Miley and Demi stepped out. And I watched as the last two girls I'd ever thought would ever step into the Gray's home…literally stepped into the Gray's yard.
Demi broke out into a bright smile, as she tilted up her sunglasses. Nick and Miley fell into a quick hug as a greeting, and I found myself frowning at the exchange. The frown seemed to deepen when Miley gave Nick a playful pat on the shoulder.
I was confused, more than just confused as to how Nick even knew this girl. At least as intimately as that touch showed.
I think I had probably had about two conversations with Miley Stewart in my whole high school life. And both of them consisted mainly of Miley asking for a pencil in Algebra. And just seeing her slide herself into my life with my best friend…kind of weirded me out.
Thankfully Nick didn't hug Demi (I'm pretty sure I would've thrown an internal hysterical fit), which confirmed my suspicions – they didn't know each other. Instead, she made her way over to me. Her arms outstretched, hesitantly, before retracting. And of course, being the loser that I was, I stayed completely still. I was afraid to hug her. What if I did something stupid like let go too soon, or – god forbid – hold on for an inappropriately long time?
I felt myself redden at the awkward almost-hug, and Demi reciprocated looking away sheepishly.
"Hey, long time no see right?" She said apologetically, looking as embarrassed as I felt.
"Yeah." I smiled shyly.
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Ten minutes later, Miley pulled up into a one way driveway into this cul de sac type place. I was almost tempted to make snarky comment about the lack of originality of the neighborhood, but refrained from doing so when I remembered who I was with.
She parked in front of the third house down the street, shutting the car off in the next second. Miley didn't wait for the rest of us as she got out of the car. I hurried with my seatbelt as she waited impatiently by the door. I heard Demi mumble under her breath as she undid her belt and followed the girl.
Miley made no formal introductions. By the time we were inside the house I figured the girl didn't do formalities. She ignored us, as we followed her.
Before I knew it, Nick and I were ushered in to a stuffy, smoky garage. The garage, despite the grandiose size of the house, was cramped. There was a musty feel to it, as if opening an old book after keeping it in the attic for a very long time. The only light came from the tiny glass windows at the top of the garage door; sunlight peeled through faintly, leaving an altogether new meaning for the word dingy.
Things were cluttered about, old bicycles, tools, broken toys, and other knick knacks buried in storage. It was everywhere, against the walls, leaning beside what looked like a used tool desk. There wasn't a spot that didn't have a mess, all except a small clearing where the instruments, amp and mic were set up precariously. And before the clearing was a lumpy, brown couch that looked like it belonged in a junk yard.
Well I mean what would you call this?
I was so distracted by the mess (and you thought your room was messy…) that I didn't initially notice the three girls lounging across the couch, until one of them spoke.
"Ugh finally!" The first girl – blond haired – exclaimed, looking up from her phone. Alarmed, I almost considered hiding behind Nick.
What are you Selena, five?
"I know we're behind schedule." Miley snapped back in response. "Come on, let's get started." She clapped her hands to get the remaining girls' attentions. One of them (a brunette that I vaguely recognized after staring at for a while) pulled out the earbuds from her ears.
"Says the girl that disappeared just now." She deadpanned, wrapping the cord around her phone.
"Not my fault, Alyson." Miley muttered, rolling her eyes. "Had to get the drummer, remember?" The three girls turned their attention to Nick. "Girls, drummer. Drummer, Girls." Miley quickly introduced.
Suddenly I felt out of place. Oh who was I kidding? I started feeling out of place the second I stepped into Miley's car. The minute I knocked on Nick's door. The moment I crashed into Demi in that stupid supermarket.
"I'm Nick-"
"-Yeah we know who you are, Nick Gray." The blonde girl finished for him. She glanced at the last girl beside her, smiling furtively. "Everyone knows who you are."
"Megan, we don't have time for flirting." Demi scolded, earning a glare from the blonde.
"And who's she?" Alyson questioned, finally noticing me. Her brown eyes looked me up and down. Her gaze was curious, but I felt incredibly uncomfortable, especially when they all (including Demi) turned to look at me.
Miley cast a quick glance in my direction.
"Demi decided to bring her girlfriend today." Miley said indifferently. I nearly choked, eyes flying wildly back and forth between the girls.
"Bah hardy har har." Demi replied sardonically, as she fixed the guitar strap around her shoulder. Her eyes met mine briefly, before returning to Miley sourly. "You're making her uncomfortable. Stop it."
"It's – it's fine –"
"-See it doesn't bother her. Quit getting your panties in a bunch, Dem. I was only kidding." Miley scoffed.
Demi shot her a flat look. "This is Selena. She was in my Drama class last year." She added. I felt my face flush as I glanced back at the girls by the couch. The blonde – Megan – only spared me a brief look before returning her attention to Nick. Alyson (who I finally remembered was in my English class), gave a friendly wave. And the last girl who still remained nameless, simply stared curiously. No, curious was an understatement. There was something in this girl's blue eyes that made Miley's crass comments seem completely harmless.
I looked away from the girl's eyes; she seemed so insistent upon holding my gaze I was beginning to feel like some kind of science experiment.
"Enough chit chat, come on. My parents aren't coming back until tomorrow afternoon. I want to take full advantage –"
"-Yeah, for busting into your dad's liquor cabinet." Megan mumbled.
"No." Miley snapped, though I caught a light flush grace her cheeks as she fiddled with the mic stand. "Before my mom comes back and complains about the noise, bitch." Megan rolled her eyes at this and followed suit. "We'll run through the song and Nick just try to follow along the first time."
The rest, save for the last girl sitting on the couch, took their respective places. Awkwardly, I shuffled over to the other end of the couch, suddenly very aware of said awkwardness. Because that girl was still staring at me.
I was beginning to worry that perhaps I had some kind of stain on my shirt, or that I missed a spot with my makeup, or you know, just casually grew a third eye.
"Make yourself at home." Demi called from her spot, as if sensing my awkwardness.
God Selena, way to blend in. You're such a loser.
I gave her a responding nod, attempting to sink further into the couch. That was right around the time I decided to glance back at the girl sitting on the other end of the couch, and immediately regretted it because her eyes were still on me. At that point, I came to the conclusion that I really, really did not like the way she was staring at me (not including the abnormally long length of said stares).
I didn't understand why I took an immediate disliking towards the girl. But I had the distinct inclination that the feeling was mutual. If that offended frown wasn't an obvious indication, it was probably the way she was staring at me in that calculating way. Like she was trying to figure out a clever way to squash me.
Finally, her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward in her seat, towards me. A small smile forming at her lips.
"Hi, Selena right?" She questioned, not waiting for me to respond before she continued on. "I'm Marissa. Demi's friend." The girl finally said. As if I couldn't deduce that information myself. "Her best friend." Her tone, despite her expression, was sweet.
I didn't know what to say. The nerves I had initially felt upon entering the garage seemed to have vanished, leaving a growing sense of irritability in its place. Which was completely irrational and stupid. What right did I have to be annoyed by this girl? I didn't even know her.
You don't know her and she feels like she needs to make some sort of claim on Demi.
Miley tapped her mic and told us to shut up, which I was thankful for. Marissa leaned back in her seat, finally lifting her heavy gaze off of me and onto the makeshift stage.
Miley counted off to three and then the sound of Megan's bass, followed by Nick's testing beats and Alyson's keyboard, erupted through the tiny garage. Demi came in a few seconds later with her guitar, opening up for Miley's surprisingly rugged singing.
It wasn't long before my attention was completely taken by the sound. I was overwhelmed at first (and offhandedly thinking of how much of waste of 17 year old space I was and could never amount to this much talent).
I watched as Miley flipped her long hair dramatically, belting into the mic. Nick following along with Megan. Allyson bowed down upon her keyboard. But my attention wasn't held on them for very long. I wasn't sure why, oh who the hell was I kidding? I knew exactly why; I was hypnotized with the way Demi was playing.
I tried to keep my eyes moving from person to person, but I couldn't help that they would always go back to her. I was transfixed – wholeheartedly. Irrevocably captivated by her. Demi strumming the guitar. Demi bopping her head to the beat. Demi crooning into the mic. Demi's hair in her face, making the most inappropriate expressions as she –
Her eyes met mine briefly, catching my embarrassing gawking. She gave a small smile and wrinkled her nose teasingly. I felt my face flush as I looked away almost immediately.
I tried not to stare in that direction for the remainder of their practicing hour. And I tried not to stare in Nick's direction either – though I could feel his accusing, penetrating stare on me the majority of the time.
I coughed awkwardly, fidgeting in my seat on the lumpy couch.
It was going well until Miley stopped singing, interrupting the music with a loud, irritated groan.
"Megan! What the hell?" She rounded on the blonde.
"What?" Megan demanded defensively.
"Did you pull that rhythm out of your ass or were you too busy ogling the drummer to notice you were completely off?!"
The blonde flushed angrily, looking about two seconds away from using the instrument to whack Miley over the head.
"I was so not off! You were off!"
For a moment, I thought someone was going to throw the first punch with the way the tension just sort of dropped. My eyes met Nick, and from his raised eyebrow, I had a feeling he was thinking the same thing. It wasn't until I noticed Demi set her guitar down and roll her eyes, that I began to realize this was probably what was considered normal. And judging from the rest of the girls' exasperated expressions, this normalcy probably happened quite frequently.
Demi sidled up to me, falling into the empty space beside me. It was a lot closer than I was entirely comfortable with. Because then I just became hyper aware of her arm brushing against mine.
"This happens all of the time." She muttered, confirming my suspicion. "I'm impressed they made it this long though."
"I give it five minutes." Alyson spoke, as she too, shuffled over to us.
"No," Demi said slowly, eyeing the two arguing girls warily. "I say ten."
"Five bucks says Miley calls rehearsals quits."
I heard Demi sigh beside me. "No, Miley's hotheaded but she's not stupid. Especially with the party a few days from now."
"You think Gray will pick up the material in time?"
Demi's eyes flickered over to me. A slow smile formed on her lips. One that had my stomach doing little somersaults. "I don't know, what do you think, Selena?"
I merely flushed and made another one of those infamous strangled groan noises.
.
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In the end, the rehearsals only lasted for about another half hour before Miley stopped it and broke into her father's liquor cabinet. I vaguely heard her mutter things darkly as she made her drink, shooting scathing looks at the blonde.
I denied the numerous offers of some kind of vodka concoction Alyson kept shoving in my face, instead, opting to huddle in my corner of the couch and watch the debauchery that was going on. Which honestly, probably was about the most pg-13 thing ever. Nick was standing shyly, against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with Megan's advances that were slowly becoming a little sloppy. Miley sat on the floor, quickly downing her second cup of whatever the hell was in her red cup. Alyson laid across the floor, changing the song playing on her iPod, much to Miley's irritation. Marissa was sipping her drink quietly, while Demi sat beside me trying to start a conversation.
Considering, I had only ever read fanfiction of teen alcohol abuse, this was about the craziest thing I'd ever been exposed to. And I was living it…well in my head at least.
"So you go to our school right?" Alyson asked me, after shuffling through five songs.
"She was in my Drama class." Demi answered for me, if not a bit petulantly.
"I feel like I've seen you before." The girl on the floor said, ignoring Demi.
"Yeah, we, um, had English class together."
It was as if Alyson's question had prompted an interrogation. Megan and Miley both crowded around the couch, attempting to listen in on the conversation. I glanced around the room and spotted Nick staring at me.
Help me.
I tried to convey silently. Instead, however, he gestured towards his phone and made his way to the door. I watched helplessly as Nick left the garage, leaving me metaphorically in the snake pit. With the lions. In the fire. Whatever analogy was perfect for this situation. I was just not prepared to have the attentions of five people suddenly diverted to me.
I squirmed in my seat, trying to move away from Demi's arm.
Marissa spoke next.
"So how did you meet Demi again?"
"I told you she was in my drama class." Demi said.
"Yeah, Emily's in your drama class, yet we don't see you bringing her around." Megan commented casually, inspecting her nails.
"Because I didn't run into Emily at the grocery store." Demi snapped. "And we just caught up."
"You know, Selena, Demi's never mentioned being friends with you before." Marissa continued, disregarding her explanation.
"Marissa!" Demi whined.
"Um we're not really friends." I finally found my voice.
"We're not?" Demi suddenly turned to me, taken aback.
"Ooh rejected." Alyson laughed, hi-fiving Miley.
"Shut up!" Demi snarled.
"I mean – we just – we're not – we barely even –" I was struggling, obviously. And they were all staring at me as if I sprouted three heads. I felt my face flush. My blood pounded and seemed to rush towards my head only prompting the growing blush.
It wasn't fair – how they all ganged up on me. And as if to make matters worse, I could see Marissa smirking at me from over Demi's head. It was mortifying, humiliating. I felt as if I just walked right into a trap. What exact kind of trap I didn't know (besides the obvious embarrassment on my part).
My face broke out into a sweat and I knew it had nothing to do with the garage being stuffy.
"I should probably…um…check up on Nick." I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head; a poor excuse to get away from their staring. They all could clearly tell it was a lie because everyone except for Demi burst out laughing. I rose from my seat, awkwardly, suddenly regretting my choice to wear shorts today.
"Ayyy looks like you got some competition Demi." I heard Megan snicker.
"You guys," Demi complained. "Can you stop now?"
"We're sorry Selena. We don't mean to offend." Miley called out to me, sounding a lot more kinder now that she had a few drinks. "It's just, Demi never brings anyone over. Except maybe that time she brought Wilmer."
"Ew why are we talking about that creep?" Alyson questioned irritably.
"You guys were the ones that decided to bring him up." Demi huffed. The subject of this Wilmer prompted a lot of bickering between the girls, mostly from Demi's disgruntled part. The sickeningly curious side of me was almost tempted to return to my seat and find out more, but I knew at this point, if I didn't get some kind of reprieve I would no sooner turn into a pathetic excuse for a tomato.
With a shaky breath, I shuffled outside of the garage and into the hallway.
I slowed my steps, suddenly feeling even more awkward at not having a purpose in the hallway. Like I was really going to go talk to Nick. As if he needed to be checked up upon.
God Selena you're such a dumb ass. You're going to check on him? Really? Really? Why didn't you just say you were going to the bathroom?
Any plans, however, to take a detour in my shitty excuse was completely irrelevant because in the next second, Nick Gray appeared before me. He paused mid-step when he noticed me. His dark eyes looked me up and down once, and I seriously thought he was going to walk past me. But instead, he did something that shocked me: he smiled.
"You escaped." Nick acknowledged.
I wasn't sure if it was what he said, or the soft smile that was still in place that relaxed me. Relaxed me enough to feel some kind of comfort in this completely uncomfortable environment.
"Yeah thanks for leaving me." I muttered sarcastically.
"I don't think I could've handled that kind of Spanish Inquisition." He replied, the smile growing. It was nice to see it. I felt myself smile in response, which lead to a brief laugh. It didn't take long before Nick let out a soft chuckle as well.
It left a pleasant feeling in the air – the type that I hadn't felt in a long time, ever since –
"I called Joe. He's waiting outside." Nick finally said after a moment. It was a pity how quickly that sense of normalcy just vanished and was replaced with the estranged tension. And I was beginning to feel the annoyance creep into my system at the mention of his brother. That was a car ride I was only too willing to avoid. "Sorry, I tried Taylor first." He added apologetically when he noticed my expression.
"It's fine. I'll just call my mom or something."
He nodded. That was another reason why I preferred Nick – he knew when not to push.
Another awkward pause stifled the hallway.
"Can I ask you something?" I didn't wait for a response. "About filling in for their drummer…how did you – I mean – why didn't you tell me anything?"
Nick stared, nonplussed.
"Why didn't you tell me anything?" He replied. That shut me up quickly. He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away. "Miley texted me before you showed up and told me about the favor."
"You knew? This whole time?" I said incredulously.
"Don't worry; they still think you actually asked me." He muttered, not meeting my eyes.
"Why didn't you…" I started, but stopped as I realized I was about to repeat myself. Nick must have noticed too because he glanced up at me warily.
"I wasn't lying when I told you it wasn't a good idea to spend time together," he mumbled glumly. "at least for right now."
"Nick," I hesitated, debating whether or not to grab his hand. I was never really a touchy-feely person, and even now the concept seemed really weird, especially with him. "I don't know what to do or say to fix this."
He shook his head, grimacing again. "It's not something you can just fix, Selena."
"I just - want us to be friends again. Please." I muttered thickly.
Nick's expression softened as he looked at me. The air had lost its tension, instead leaving the same emptiness I was starting to become accustomed to regarding Nick.
"I can't do this right now 'Lena, I'm sorry."
It was at this moment the sound of a loud crash, followed by an angry stream of profanity filled the empty silence. Both of us turned to the noise, alarmed.
Demi Torres scrambled to her feet at once, almost tripping over the empty bottles she was carrying. She cursed again, bending down to retrieve the spilled items in a hurry.
Her flushed, eyes darting between the both of us. "Sorry, sorry I didn't mean to interrupt."
I was almost too surprised to wonder whether she was eavesdropping or not. It didn't matter, or at least it didn't occur to me immediately, because Nick sighed impatiently. In way that made it seem as if he were bothered by her interruption.
"It's fine." Nick replied stoically. "I'll see you later." He gave me one last look, before turning back. I vaguely heard the front door slam.
"Is he leaving?" Demi questioned.
"Yeah."
"Without you?"
"…Yes."
"Oh crap, I feel really bad now." Demi murmured, glancing at the door anxiously. "I didn't – upset him right?"
"No, no it's not you." I said distractedly.
She looked at me doubtfully. A heavy silence fell between us, and for once I wasn't too overly concerned with trying to fill it. I was still distracted over Nick and feeling like a shitty friend.
I followed her back into the garage. I could tell she was still thinking about what she walked in on. A part of me wanted to keep it hidden and a strangely, embarrassingly larger part wanted to tell her. When we entered the garage, Alyson had hooked up her iPod to the speakers, making the room not only unbearably stuffy, but unbearably loud as well.
"I can give you a ride home!" Demi blurted out suddenly, after minutes of her pensive silence.
"Oh," I flushed, as she stared at me eagerly. "Um, no it's fine. I'll just call my mom and –"
"It's no trouble, really. I live a couple of blocks away and my dad should be home from work soon." Demi waved a dismissive hand. She glanced over her shoulder to catch Miley take swig of her drink. "Obviously she's not capable" – at this moment, Miley attempted another sip, but it sloppily ran down her chin – " of even the most simplest of tasks." Demi muttered flatly.
"I really don't want to take you away from all the fun here."
Miley swore loudly at her cup, as if that were the reason for the large stain that formed on her top. Demi snorted at this, before turning back to me, amused. "Please, like I want to babysit a bunch of drunk idiots right now. They won't even last to eight."
I hesitated, eyes flickering back to the girls. Miley was still suspiciously staring at her red cup, while Alyson sat beside her taking duck selfies. On the couch, Marissa was quietly sipping her drink, listening to Megan's animated ramble. Occasionally, however, I felt Marissa's eyes on us. Curious.
"Don't you drink?" I questioned absently. It took me a moment to realize what I asked and I could have smacked myself. Way to sound accusatory you prude.
"I do, but…" She trailed off uncertainly. Her eyebrows knitted together, as she looked at me with a strange expression. "I kind of don't want to get sloppy, especially in front of you. Oh god, I couldn't even fathom the embarrassment." She laughed nervously.
"I would never judge you." I murmured shyly.
Demi smiled softly, making me melt on the spot.
"I'll hold you to that in the future then, Russo."
.
.
In the end, she convinced me to go along with the ride idea. We left Miley's house and I didn't think it was possible for me to feel even more relieved. I wasn't sure I could handle any more of Miley's relentless teasing or Marissa's fucking staring. The sun was sinking, leaving the sky a paste of orange and red. The air was cooling down from the earlier boiling temperature (and thank god for that too; I didn't need to sweat like a pig in front of Demi).
"I'm sorry about my friends." Demi sighed exasperatedly. "I tried to tell them to tone it down the night before, but it's like I tell them to do one thing and they conveniently decide to do the opposite."
"It's okay. I didn't mind, really-"
"-no, no I know they made you uncomfortable. I'm so sorry, they're usually not like that. And when I say they I really just mean Miley, and maybe Marissa. She didn't give you a hard time right?"
I wanted to tell her I was pretty sure I couldn't stand her friend, but I held it in. I didn't think I could ever tell her that.
"Marissa's just really protective over me." She muttered.
Especially after that.
She walked beside me, occasionally filling in the quiet spaces of our silent walk. I felt bad and annoyed with my lack of well thought out conversational responses. It wasn't that I was shy per say (well not completely), at that point it was mostly because I didn't know what to say without sounding like a pretentious shithead. Oh what's your favorite color? Do you like cheese? I wanted to know her. I longed for the details. The details that weren't obvious or physical. What she thought. What she felt. What she was thinking now.
After about another minute of silence, I was resolved. Straightening up, I opened my mouth to speak. Unfortunately Demi apparently had the same idea because she interrupted right through my question.
"Oh, uh what were you gonna say?"
"No you go ahead."
"Selena seriously just say it."
I hesitated, before sighing in defeat. Demi's lip curved into a little smirk at that. I had to resist the urge to smile.
"I was just going to say that you're um, like, really good with the guitar – talented I mean." I muttered nervously, secretly congratulating myself for delivering the compliment somewhat decently.
"Nick plays the guitar too, doesn't he?" She said offhandedly if not a little defensively, making me recoil. "Sorry I didn't mean – I just- I mean it's so common I guess…"
"Nick," I hesitated, feeling the name roll off my tongue and leave a bad taste in my mouth. "I mean, Nick is talented. But you, you're talented too. Like really, really good. So good. I can't even – it's so impressive. I didn't know you could do that. I mean I don't mean that you're not capable – of course you are. I just didn't expect – I should have – you said you were in a band. Demi, don't even compare yourself because you're like – wow."
Demi blinked, looking as if she couldn't even begin to process the fucking ramble I went off on.
Okay, um, where did that come from? You fucking idiot.
I was about two seconds away from hitting my forehead repeatedly …quite frequently… until I heard Demi sigh.
"Oh, geez," she laughed running a hand through her hair. Demi chewed her lip, biting down the rising smile. I watched, transfixed as a light blush graced her pale cheeks. A hand came up to nervously run through her tousled hair. She let out an embarrassed little groan. I had to keep myself from bushing. Who was I kidding? I could practically fry an egg on my face with how hot it felt.
"Jesus, Selena. Flattery will get you nowhere." Demi's gaze was trained on the floor as she spoke.
"I didn't –"
"-Relax I'm totally kidding!" She giggled, still not meeting my eye. "Thank you." Her laughter faded away, leaving only a small, content smile in its place. I held my breath as she finally glanced up at me. Maybe it was the way the fading sunlight hit her face. Or the way she did her make up today. Or the fact that I was so ridiculously taken with her and all of this pretentious poetic bull shit was consuming my mind. But the moment she turned to look at me with that little half smile, I swear I had never witnessed anyone more stunning in my short seventeen year old life.
"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." She murmured quietly.
I said nothing. I couldn't say anything to that response. Nothing coherent because my mind convulsed as I melted on the spot.
And within that heated pile of mush that was my brain, only one thought kept resurfacing:
I am so, so, so fucked..
