Risky Business

"Let the time time pass
'Cause we're never getting old"

-11-

Flashback: August 23, 2011

Clearly, I had every reason in the world to be depressed.

Chad, my best friend since I landed on the set of So Random, was turning twenty-one. All grown up. All old. All stupid.

Oh, and The Office had just announced that this year would be its last.

No more Michael Scott…No more Dwight and his weirdness…No more Jim and Pam. No more Jam.

Honestly, give me one Office-watcher who can live without seeing-slash-discussing Jam. I mean…seriously!

There are too many changes going on today…And I'm pretty sure that I'm on my way to having a nervous breakdown.

And the sad thing is, I'm a lot younger than Chad. I mean, yes, I'll be twenty in a couple of weeks, but still.

He's twenty-one. He can legally drink…and rent a car in the Cayman Islands.

Actually, he can't do that until he's twenty-five, so ha. (Side note: This means that he won't be robbing in banks until he's twenty-five. Not that he needs to, but still.)

But anyway, Chad's old, there'll be no more Jam, what the heck is the world coming to?

The only highlight I can think about is the fact that Chad's sister, Jamington, just had a cute, yet bald baby girl.

I bet Chad a hundred dollars that she would have red hair…to copy her mother's feistiness.

Chad took the bet on that she would have blonde hair, after his own…prettiness.

Sad fact: Chad thinks that he's pretty. He openly admits it and discusses his "beauty" with everyone.

It disgusts me, but I go along with it…because, sad fact: Chad's actually not that bad looking.

And I just got put in People's 'Most Beautiful', so I'm not that insecure about my image either.

Though Miley Cyrus did get put in there…And she's just…well, blah. Or ick. Either way you want to look at it is okay with me.

(Side note: Nick Jonas is now dating this cute little un-famous girl. We – meaning me – hope that he's going to marry her. She just…puts him in his place, and I like that.)

Anyway.

So, because Chad was turning twenty-one, he was having some sort of huge birthday party at his house.

(Side note: Why on earth would you want to celebrate being an old man? Huh?)

I, as his bestie, was invited (of course).

Not that it makes me happy. I already warned him that I wouldn't be giving him a present. I do NOT promote old age.

Nuh-uh.

No way.

God and I have a deal that, once I turn twenty, an Edward Cullen type dude will find me, bite me, and I'll be twenty forever.

Sounds good, I know.

But seriously…what's the good part about getting older? Clearly, this Edward Cullen type dude will marry me before he bites me, we'll go on our honeymoon, he'll impregnate me with a half-demon-half-normal kid (so that will take care of me having babies), then, when I go to give birth, he'll bite me.

Strangely enough, I have it all worked out and it all makes sense to me.

Now, I tried to explain this to my cousin Jill, but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes. She then proceeded to tell me that there was no such thing as an Edward Cullen "type dude".

I think that this is because she majored in Psychology, and all of them are trained to be uptight and high-strung.

She's pregnant now, by her husband Laketon, and has retired from her job. I have a feeling that she'll mellow out some…One can only hope.

But anyway, I was forcing myself to go to Chad's birthday party. He needs me. He needs a shoulder to cry on. He needs some support, so when his hips go out, he has someone to fall on…

I need to be there for him, because he's my bestie.

That's just the way it is.

Five hours later, I found myself in some bright yellow mini-dress that accentuated my tan perfectly, standing in front of Chad Dylan Cooper, my old best friend.

Not that Chad was having any trouble being old…He was drunk.

Disgustingly drunk, might I add.

Under each of his arms stood two blondes (i.e. four in all), and they were all wearing shorter dresses than I was.

Not that I minded. Not that I was jealous.

I mean, really, I do not like Chad in that way.

Seriously, I don't.

But…it just gets annoying. Why blondes?

Why not redheads, or brunettes? Girls with blue and pink highlights are fun too, I hear.

And it's not that I don't love blondes, because I do. Chad's one. My cousin is one. My dad is one.

I just think that the ones who have had surgeries to make their chests larger than Mount Everest are stupid as can be (i.e. Heidi Pratt. Or is it Monta-Something? Do I even care? No.).

When I turn twenty, I'm going to work hard on a campaign to ban all breast implants. Natural cups are fine, thank you very much. I'm a C…and really, they're hard to handle. So I just don't get why chicks have a need to make theirs bigger.

I mean, really, who enjoys big boobs?

We'll leave out Chad here…Because, well, he's drunk. And, as I've observed him in his drunkenness so far, he's quite the shallow dude.

But let's observe the Jonas Brothers for a second. Kevin is married to Dani, and I'm pretty sure she's a B. Joe has Natti, and I think that she's a C…along with Shae, who is Nick's girl.

Now, with Miley and Selena? My bet is that they're both A cups, who decided to wear pushup bras/ or get implants.

I'm just saying.

Now…how the hell did I get to talking about cup sizes? I mean…seriously. And no, I do not have ADD, but still.

I blame it on the fact that there'll be no more Jam, that Chad is old, that Chad is drunk, and Chad likes fakes.

Chad is the king of fakes.

Especially fakes who think it's appropriate to snuggle up to him…

I mean, seriously. They were laying their heads on his shoulders and everything. Snuggle bitches.

I scowled in disgust, realizing that Chad obviously did not need my comfort, moved around the snuggly blondes, and headed up the stairs in Chad's house, where I found his bedroom.

I then proceeded to make myself comfortable on Chad's bed, grab the remote, and turn the TV on. Ironically, The Office was playing. It was that episode where Jim finally reveals his love for Pam (his best friend), kisses her, and then she turns him down.

No worries though. A few seasons later, they get married and have a baby. Because, clearly, they're meant to be.

And I might not be sure of whom Chad is meant to be with, but clearly, he is not meant to be with a blonde, who has boobs the size of the Great Barrier Reef. Just saying.

Somehow, I had fallen asleep in Chad's bed (at his birthday party, nonetheless; which really makes me a great friend – not); and had been knocked out for…I rolled over to look at the alarm clock sitting on Chad's nightstand.

Fanfreakingtastic. It was three am.

A few thoughts were racing through my head at the time. Such as:

Where in the world was Chad?

..and

Why in the world didn't anyone come to get me?

Chad had a cake. They were supposed to sing happy birthday to him! I was supposed to sing happy birthday to him.

And yes, I know that every other person at Chad's house was drunk as a skunk, but still, I am Chad's best friend.

And also…No cake is better than someone else's birthday/wedding cake. That's just the fact of life. No matter how much you spend on your own cake, the other person's cheaper cake will be better.

Chad had better left me a piece of cake.

And, I ask again, where in the world was Chad?

My question was answered moments later when the door of Chad's bathroom swung open, revealing my inebriated best friend in nothing but his sweatpants and a white V-neck. He looked exhausted, and, as he sat down opposite me on the bed, started clutching his forehead.

"Congratulations, Chad," I shook myself awake to where I could actually talk to him…not that he'd care. "You're officially old." I scooted over in the bed to where I could massage his back. Yes, I was mad at him for getting wasted, but still…he looked awful.

"I-I know, Sonny," Chad stuttered as I kept massaging him; he then leaned back, probably enjoying the rub-down. "I-I'm sorry. I really don't know why I did it. Alcohol tastes like crap." I snorted at his statement, causing Chad to chuckle.

"Alcohol sucks." He repeated. Yep, he was still, definitely drunk.

"Well, I'm sorry that I fell asleep." I was. I missed the cake.

"S'ok, Sonbeam. You weren't missed." Well gee, thanks Chad. I'm glad we're so open and honest in our relationship (where we're supposed to be best friends), that you can insult me like that. Thank you!

Chad couldn't read minds though, and he obviously didn't care that I was behind him either. He started laying down, crushing me, until I moved out from under him. Yet when I went to sit up, he pulled me down, and rolled over to where he was face-to-face with me.

It was then that I figured out what he was doing in the bathroom. He had brushed his teeth, and probably gargled too.

Hey, at least he was a clean drunk.

I had to give my careless drunk best friend some points – or pointers? – after all.

"Except by me." Woah! When did his voice get so damn husky? His husky voice penetrated my thoughts, catching me off guard.

It was at that moment that I happened to look into his eyes, nearly getting the breath knocked out of me. His eyes were…really something.

So there I was with Chad Dylan Cooper, lying there in the dark and staring dreamily into my best friends eyes.

I really should've recognized that this situation was not good at all…kicked Chad in the you-know-where, and fled; but I was all too comfortable in his bed.

…Let's just forget that the above rhymes for a second, okay?

Thank you.

Like I said, I should've fled (from his bed…which wasn't red…but was in my head), but I continued to lie there. And then Chad thought it would be nice if he moved his head closer to my own. …So, he did. And he also licked his lips.

Never before had I even given one thought to his lips but, my, they looked appealing.

And before I knew what was happening, one of Chad's hands was on my waist, the other on the back of my neck, and his lips were on mine.

The element of surprise flooded through my veins like a hurricane was raging outside. I opened my mouth, gasping, and Chad took that as his advantage to bite down on my lower lip. I, in turn fought him back.

The kiss was heated, yet desperate, and so much more than I could've ever imagined.

Before long, his lips were on my neck, the soft skin behind my ear…everywhere. It was like we were lost, and never wanted to be found.

In all honesty, it felt like it stopped quicker than it started, and the minute his lips left mine…the minute his hands weren't touching my skin, I wanted him back.

But the minute that he wasn't touching me, he mumbled three words. Three words that really did knock the breath out of me.

And then he fell asleep.

But the words "I love you" wouldn't stop ringing in my ears, and that night, sleep never overtook me again.

Lyrics: I Like It by Enrique Iglesias feat. Pitbull

A/N: So…there's the flashback! It should've been more, and I wish that it was better. This was just one of those chapters that didn't want to be written, but had to be. I hope that you liked it. There's a lot more I can say, but I'll just shut up and wait for review replies. :)

Thank you so much for reading!

-Aly