Chapter 2: Thinking

"What's the matter, Jen? You look down again." Jude smiled. "Hey, that kinda rhymed."

"I need to find Nick. I've been looking everywhere for him."

She had no luck in finding him after speaking to Caitlin. (Of course Caitlin had fallen under Benj's spell once Jen left.) She knew it didn't take that long of a time to get a drink. She took a deep breath, wondering if he left. What if he knew they weren't as comfortable as he made the two of them out to be and just left, just stopped trying? She frowned.

Passing a bowl of chips to Starr, he pointed down. "I think I saw him heading to the basement… I think."

"Thanks, Jude!"

While making her way down the steps, she heard him say, "No problem… I think, therefore I am. That's some Latin phrase I learned."

Yeah, he's pretty high.

There were less people in the basement, in comparison with the heavily populated first floor and backyard. The basement's atmosphere was significantly more relaxed. She wondered why Jude and Starr bothered with the intense activity of upstairs when they could be in a better environment down here.

To each his own, she figured.

Walking around some guys playing a round of pool, she found Nick resting on a sofa, his eyes closed and his head bobbing to the beat of some song playing from the speakers. She took a seat beside him and he opened his eyes.

"What happened to you earlier? I went to get us something to drink and you just left."

She, acting on spontaneous courage, asked, "What happened to you for a couple days? You barely talked to me and made me feel weird. Not bad, not sad, not crappy, but just weird. You've been distant and then all of a sudden you tell me you're coming to the party and everything's okay."

He leaned away as she spoke, his green eyes widening at her outpour of emotion.

"Sorry for blowing up like that."

"No, it's not your fault. You're right about all of that, and I'm really sorry. I get really caught up in my work sometimes, and for the past few days I've just been inspired—maybe a little too inspired—that I didn't want you to know what I was working on until I was done. I didn't plan on telling you today. I really wanted to tell you—or, um, show you—sometime this week, since our two-week anniversary is coming up. I know girls like celebrating those types of things."

"What exactly were you going to show me?"

"A few poems and drawings that were inspired by you. Jenny, you're my muse."

She blushed. Nobody other than Travis had called her Jenny, but she didn't mind Nick doing so. He made her heart thump against her chest. She had never been someone's inspiration before, never been the gem of someone's creative vision. She always rambled to her friends about wanting to be at least one person's role model, their motivation, but she never thought it'd be him.

Sure, some guy she liked had once called her a goddess, but it was only because he'd heard such great (false) stories about her, not because he tried getting to know the real her. Nick, in contrast, was willing to study her.

After parting from a kiss she didn't even recall initiating, she grinned. "So, when did you start drawing?"

Despite her heart being caught in her throat, Sydni found the conversations she'd been having with people to be nice. When Caitlin told her she needed to open up and it would be for the better, Sydni found her advice to be accurate. It wasn't like she doubted it (that much).

After ending a lengthy conversation she'd been having with Bridgette, she found Caitlin motioning for her to meet her.

When Sydni walked over, she asked, "What is it, Caitlin?"

She clapped her hands together. "Oh, you'll never guess who showed up to your party!"

Despite her friend's grinning, she gulped. "Who?"

Caitlin pointed in a certain direction and Sydni's eyes followed.

"Oh shit—Alejandro." Her breath caught in her throat. "He actually came."

Caitlin beamed. "You should go over there and say something!"

Her eyes widened, staring at her friend in disbelief. "Um, no thank you."

"Come on, you have to. You like him; he likes you. It's fate."

Fidgeting with her bracelet, she cringed at things like fate and destiny and meant to be. She had already believed in happily ever after and that turned out to be a load of—"Seriously? Fate? I think that's a little extreme, Caitlin."

"But you didn't deny that you like him."

She blushed.

"Now, let's get you over there to talk to him!"

Sydni lost control over her body as Caitlin pulled her across the yard by the wrist. After breaking free from her grip—Wow, she's strong—she found herself in front of Alejandro.

Caitlin grinned. "I guess I'll leave you two to talk."

He spoke first. "Hey there."

She stammered, "H-hi. Don't mind Caitlin. She's just really… pushy, that's all." Really, the first thing I say is about Caitlin? Words: they fail me. She smiled, hoping she wasn't freaking him out with her silence. Swallowing some of her nerves, she said, "It looks like we're always in the same place at the same time, right?" Right?

"It seems that way." He grabbed her by the hand. Her palms burned. "It's definitely not a bad thing."

"Really?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be able to dance with you if we weren't together right now."

Not wanting to let another "Really?" slip out, she said, "Well, let's dance… and stuff. That'd be nice." Wow, that was so poetic—totally Shakespearean.

"Yes, it would."

When "Luxury" by Azealia Banks began to play, he led her to the patio. He placed his hands on her waist and she threw her arms over his shoulders. There was some distance between them; she couldn't help but wonder if she was leaving room for Jesus. Sarcasm aside, Caitlin's voice invaded her mind, telling her to hold her head up, telling her that even if she faked a little courage, it would count as an effort towards the real thing.

"Thank you for your monetary contribution. Come in," Jonesy said to everyone who arrived at the door, his voice saccharine.

With all the money he'd been making, all he saw was signs—dollar signs. He hadn't decided what he would do with his profit yet, but it would definitely go towards something worth it. Maybe he'd save it in his "Jonesy Garcia Needs His Own Car" account.

"Move it," a disembodied voice in the living room said.

He looked at the crowd with fearful eyes, spotting a girl with purple hair making her way through. He knew it wasn't Connie because she had longer purple hair (and she was hanging in the backyard, mostly around Marlowe). He shoved his money into his pockets, thankful of nobody being at the door right now.

Nikki walked towards him. When she stood on her toes and her lips met his, he congratulated himself for not having one of Levi's beers, because she would've tasted it on his breath. His opportunity for monetary gain would have been completely over.

She placed a hand on his cheek, smiling at first. Her lips pressed into a thin line afterwards. "Jonesy, you're sweating."

He grinned, chuckling a little. "Is it me, or is it kinda hot in here?"

"It's not hot in here at all. What's going on?" She crossed her arms. "You sweat when you're nervous."

In an effort to keep his cool, he said, "Baby, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about here."

She pursed her lips.

Shit, she knows something's up. I am so screwed.

It took all her strength to not freak out.

Alejandro continued to hold Sydni at the waist and she wanted to melt. Even if she'd talked to him on a couple occasions, she was surprised by his skill to coax the words out of her. In other words, he was great at small talk. She thought for a while about the things she wanted to say, whereas the words flowed out his mouth with such grace and ease.

He'd asked where she was from. ("Baltimore, which is in Maryland, on the east coast—if you were wondering.")

What she liked doing. ("Reading, going on the internet—things you probably hear a lot of people say.")

What she really liked. (She'd smiled. "Writing, music, and skating.")

What her favorite places to go were. (She'd paused. "Um … anywhere with good company, I suppose.")

What she wanted to do. (She couldn't answer that one without embarrassing herself. "Kiss you" would've been too direct of a response.)

She'd mustered up enough confidence to ask him basic questions too—at least until "Back of the Van" by Ladyhawke began to play.

The synths shimmered and her heart ached. What was once comfort in his arms turned into unease. She pulled away from him, guiltily glancing at her bracelet. Her subconscious burned with the guilt of being with the wrong guy during the wrong song.

"Are you okay?" she heard him ask.

She shook her head, biting her lip. If he asked her what she wanted to do now, she would say, "Hide." Her eyes gleamed as she told him, "I'm sorry."

She ran.

"Jonesy, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on."

Nikki glared at him, her hands placed on her hips. She knew him well enough to recognize his dishonesty.

"I'm just guarding the door like I'm supposed to."

"Uh-huh, sure you are."

He crossed his arms. "I'm beginning to think you have trust issues."

"I have trust issues? You're always doing underhanded things. I just happen to catch you in the act, Bernie Madoff."

"Hey, at least I'm doing my job. You haven't seen anyone in here with booze, have you?"

"Okay, you got me there. Whatever. But you're still—"

"Hey, Nik, isn't that Sydni up there?"

She initially thought he was trying to distract her from interrogating him, but when she turned around, she saw Sydni running up the stairs.

"Aw crap. I'm gonna go find Caitlin and Jen. The three of us can find out what's wrong with her. But you and I"—she narrowed her eyes at him—"we'll talk later."

He exhaled as she walked away.

A/N: By the way—if anyone was curious—that Latin phrase Jude had mentioned earlier is Cogito ergo sum, which indeed translates to "I think, therefore I am."