Chapter 4: A Whole Lot of Sweet Potatoes

(Tara's POV)

He didn't call the next day. Or the day after. Or any day at all, really.

It's not like I was really waiting for a call, I just felt awkward holding onto a jumper that was three sizes too big for me. And, if I could find the courage to admit it to myself, I did find him kind of attractive.

The morning after the party, Isabelle had woken me up with too much enthusiasm for my hung-over brain. "Where'd you get the jumper," she'd asked too loudly, making me cringe. "A kid I met at the party last night." "Ooooh," she bubbled, plopping down on my bed. "What's his name? Why'd he give it to you? Did you guys do something you shouldn't have?" "I don't remember, all your yelling is hurting my head," I grumbled, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed, "And no, someone spilled their drink on me so he let me change into his jumper."

"Oh," she huffed with disinterest, hopping off my bed and leaving me alone for the rest of the day.

I had washed the jumper the day after; it seemed like the courteous thing to do since he let me wear it. I'd left it on my bed, so that I'd know exactly where it was if he called, but after the fourth day with no contact I simply set it in my dresser with the rest of my shirts.

I'd almost completely forgotten about the jumper, and the night that went along with it until Monday, two weeks later, when there was a knock on the door.

Turning around from my spot at the computer, I looked at Isabelle. "You expecting someone," she questioned. I shook my head, "You?" "No."

I shrugged and walked over to the door. Opening it, I was faced with the curly haired boy I'd met a couple weeks ago. "Oh, hey," I greeted, opening the door wider, "Why didn't you call?"

He stepped in, an apologetic look on his face as I turned and went to my dresser. "Well, actually, I lost my phone the night of the party."

Just then Isabelle gasped and I whirled around quickly, frightened. "PJ Liguori," she squealed, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Do I know you," he asked, looking incredibly uncomfortable. She looked over at him and smiled, "Oh no, I just watch your videos."

"Well... that's not creepy," He responded sarcastically. Isabelle acted as if the insult were never said, her face as bright and bewildered as I've ever seen it. PJ shifted awkwardly and looked back over at me, his eyes asking me to elaborate. I shrugged, just as confused as he was and handed the jumper over.

"I'm really sorry about not calling you," he began, trying not to let the staring Isabelle bother him. "Don't worry about it," I smiled, "Accidents happen all the time." "I know, but it's so unlike me," he pursued. "I would have come sooner, but I'd forgotten which dorm was your's. I didn't want to look like an idiot knocking on every door in the dorm looking for a girl I met at a party . Finally I did because I really needed this jumper." He was joking at the end, his eyes shining and his voice dripping with sarcasm. From the bed, Isabelle giggled like an excited twelve year old. I raised an eyebrow, 'Seriously, what is up with her?'

"In all seriousness, though, I want to make it up to you," he finished, giving me a sincere smile, "I was wondering if you'd like to come thrifting with me."

"Yes, yes she would," Isabelle blurted out. We both looked over at her, an unsettling silence falling over us. "What," she whined, seeming oblivious to how unnecessary her outburst was.

I looked back over at PJ slowly. "Well," I began, unsure of what to do, "I should finish up my project."

"You could bring your camera," he tried, biting his lip in anticipation.

"Deal," I agreed almost too hastily. When my camera was involved, I found it impossible to refuse.

"Wonderful," he cried joyfully, standing upright and clasping his hands together, "Let us be on our way, then."

I closed my laptop and grabbed my camera, hanging it around my neck. "I'll see you later, Belle," I called as PJ and I left the dorm room.

"Have fun, you two," she sang as I shut the door.

Once we were outside and making our way out to the thrift shop, PJ began talking. "So Isabelle-"

"I have no idea."

"Fan girl."

"What?"

"She's a fan girl."

"Isabelle," I sputtered, flabbergasted, "No, of course not... I mean. She couldn't be." "Oh no, she definitely is," he concluded, laughing, "Trust me, I've met more than enough to know the signs." "And what signs might those be?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Over excited, obnoxiously loud, giggling like a little girl," he listed, making me think back to Isabelle's completely out of character behavior. "Yes, that definitely sounds like what just happened," I agreed, "That just seems so unlike her. I mean, she's a pretty excitable person, but she's never been that excited before.

"We all have our secrets," he mused with an odd tone in his voice. 'That was.. weird,' I though, shrugging it off after a moment.

"Ever been to Barnardo's before," PJ's voice interrupted my thoughts

I nod, "Yeah, I worked here when I was a freshman, but I quit because I found a job closer to home that paid more." PJ looked at me with surprise as he opened the door to the thrift store, "You didn't live on campus freshman year?" "Or sophomore," I added, nodding. "I decided to move on campus this year partly to prove to myself, and my family, that I could and partly because the money I spent driving to and from college began to take a toll on my mother's budget."

"I thought you said you got a better paying job, closer to home?" PJ retorted, pulling a pair tan skinny jeans off the rack and looking at them. "Yes, well, my mom insisted I use the money make to buy things I wanted, like clothing and tea," I explained, looking through a pile of baseball tee's, "But if I'm being completely honest, half my income went to gas, anyways." "That's sweet of you," PJ glanced at me with a half-smile that made something in my chest stir, making me hastily avert my eyes and focus on the pale yellow shirt now in my hands.

After an hour of random thrifting PJ left with three new jumpers, the pair of tan skinny jeans he had been looking at, and a grey hoodie, while I managed to get black and white striped cardigan, an abstractly patterned jumper that PJ talked me into buy, and a couple of random photos that made the other customers give me odd looks.

Exiting the store, PJ stopped for a second before throwing his hand up to his head, "Oh darn it, I need to stop at the market." "Why," I asked, confused. "I'm having a barbeque with some mates tonight." "You forgot about a barbeque you're having," I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh no, I didn't forget about the barbeque" he clarified, "I forgot I had to pick up some sweet potatoes."

"Oh," I sighed, biting my lip, "Well, I wouldn't mind stopping at the market with you before I go back to my dorm." PJ gave me a bewidered look before shaking his head and chuckling, "Back to your dorm? No, I do believe you will be making an appearance at my barbeque." I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Making an appearance," I questioned, "What am I, a celebrity?" "Close enough," he agreed, "You're the girl who managed to take one of my jumpers. My friends are still arguing over how you managed it."

I laughed anxiously, I managed to take one of his jumpers? I didn't even know that was an accomplishment. Were jumpers even that big of a deal to him? 'I guess I'll just have to ask Isabelle later,' I shuddered at how disturbing I found the thought of Isabelle knowing the extent PJ's jumper love.

"Well, we best be off, then," PJ concluded, heading off down the road, making me jog to catch up.

At the market, we hurried to the produce section, PJ instantly grabbing a bag and filling it almost completely with sweet potatoes. "Whoa there," I teased, eyeing the bag comically, "Are you trying to appease the sweet potato gods?" He laughed loudly, the lady a little ways off huffed and grumbled under her breath about how teenagers always ruined her peace of mind.

You're right," PJ continued, ignoring the older woman, "We might have to get a couple more just in case!"

The walk to PJ's apartment was obnoxiously loud. He told me random jokes that brought tears to my eyes and we discussed the finer points of Majora's Mask, which was currently collecting dust on my shelf because Isabelle hid my Nintendo 64 after I stayed up for 48 straight hours trying to beat the game. He told me about his job; "professional storyteller" he called it, making me roll my eyes, and I told him about my dreams of becoming a photojournalist who did freelance work on the side.

"Interesting," he'd mused, looking at me with curious eyes, "Would you say you're pretty good with photo editing?" "Fairly good," I agreed. "Interesting," he repeated, saying nothing else on the subject.

PJ's apartment was fairly sized and the desks and shelves were filled with objects and games of all sort, making me gasp, "You weren't kidding when you said you were a game collector!" He chuckled at me as I studied his game like a seven year old, "And you weren't kidding when you said you enjoyed video games." "I have a brother who's three years younger than me," I explained, tearing myself away from the old games and following him into the kitchen, "I've been playing video games longer than I've been taking photographs."

"Well, we'll probably end up playing some later after the barbeque if you plan on sticking around," he offered as he began to rinse and cut the sweet potatoes.

The barbeque was... reasonable. I was awkward at first, only semi-recognizing some of the people. I'd realized just how secluded I was once everyone had arrived and food was being eaten. I kept by PJ's side for the entirety of the gathering, trying to make conversation with as many of his friends as possible. I may not have known them all that well, but getting to know new people never really bothered me. After the barbeque was over and a large majority of his mates had left, we dragged the Nintendo out and played Donkey Kong till 11. At 11:30 I told him I was going to have Isabelle come pick me up and take me back to my dorm; I had class early the next day and I needed to get at least a few hours of sleep.

"Why don't you stop by on Friday and we can play some more video games?" he invited, opening the front door for me, "I haven't played Ocarina of Time in a while and it is just begging to be beaten." "Sounds like a plan," I agreed, "When do you plan on getting a new phone?" "Wednesday at the latest," he responded, leaning against his door frame, "Want my number now?" "That'd be helpful, in case I have to cancel," I nodded, handing him my phone. He handed it back after putting his number, saying good night and waiting till I was in the car to close the door.

As soon as we were driving away Isabelle was bubbling with questions, "How was it? What's he like in real life? Did he talk about his stories? Was he-" "Belle, slow down, please," I begged, looking at her with wide eyes, "I had no idea you were such a fan girl!" "Yeah... Well, it's one of those things I keep behind closed doors," she sighed, calming down. "I live behind those doors you keep closed," I exclaimed, "Does your boyfriend know?" She glanced at me with an incredulous look, "Are you kidding? Have you met my boyfriend? He'd drop me like yesterday's news if he knew I acted like that. You wouldn't even have known if I hadn't found out you were dating my favorite Youtuber."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I backtracked, staring at her in disbelief, "I am not dating PJ. He's just a cool guy I've made friends with." "Right," Isabelle purred, pulling into the dorm parking lot, "Just keep telling yourself that. But when you're macking him in a couple weeks, don't say I didn't call it."

I just shook my head at her, knowing I wouldn't win if I argued it, "I still can't believe you're a fan girl."

"We all have our secrets, Tara," she mumbled. I blinked at her; PJ had said the same thing, not twelve hours earlier. "Yes, we all do," I agreed, getting out of the car and following Isabelle into our dorm.

Chapter foooooour!

Hope I didn't keep you all waiting too long(; If I did, please take the fact that it is twice as long as any other chapter as my sincerest apology. I've been busy with exams and meeting deadlines. Well, that, and I was having serious issues with trying to figure out how I should move the plot along.

I would like to thank my best friend settingdanonfire for helping me with this chapter. I don't know why you say you won't be on much use; if it weren't for you this chapter would have been ten times worse.

I'd also like to mention that I got the barbeque idea from this video: /watch?v=GLjJbRRlTjg . But if you are subbed to PJ's PJtheKick channel you probably would have figured that out. So here is me crediting that and not saying it was original idea, because it totally wasn't; it just fit really well with the fic.

I KNOW, I KNOW I changed sweater to jumper in this chapter. I just realized how incredibly AMERICAN I was being by not saying jumper. I'm sorry it didn't hit me till this chapter.

Hope you all enjoyed this and, again, I apologize for it being so late.

PJ isn't mine guys, he isn't.

-Boots

Edit: I changed 'sweater' to 'jumper' in the other chapter just because it bothered me so much.