Come To Light

Troy’s P.O.V.

“I can’t believe she broke up with me because she thought I cheated on her.” I lean against the fence, wire digging into my back and annoying me even further.

My friends; Rick, Mason and Parker – are looking at me a little incredulously, and a lot amused. I don’t know what they think is so funny though. Now I don’t even have a date for Valentines Day.

“Um dude,” Parker says, with a lopsided grin and raised eyebrows, leaning his head back in his arms, “you did cheat on her.”

It’s not like I can’t get another date. Believe me I can so get another date if I want to – it’s just...most of the other girls I’ve thought about asking are going out with another guy tomorrow and I really, really don’t want to get on the guys’ bad sides right now.

I direct my gaze towards Parker, “Yeah, and so? She didn’t even see me. She didn’t even have any proof. And besides,” I look ahead to where four girls are sitting around a tree, and particularly at the sweet face framed by long, dark brown looks, “your girl has the same name as you Parker. What would you know about anything?”

Parker just shoots me that lopsided grin again, “What can I say? Parkers are a mighty fine species of human...especially the female kind.”

I roll my eyes and the bell sounds throughout the yard.

“Girls, God, they think they know everything.” I say with disgust, shaking my head with a scowl and swinging my bag over my shoulder.

Nicole’s P.O.V.

Natalie throws a whole bunch of dirt over an ant and watches it squirm around, flipped over by the sudden rush of wind caused by her throwing the dirt.

“Maybe,” she says, and gives me a sarcastic-amused look, “you shouldn’t have stood outside his car so long, making rude gestures at him.”

“I wasn’t making rude gestures.” I say in protest. Because I wasn’t, and even if I was...well, it was cold and truth be told he shouldn’t have left me standing outside his car so long. Even if he had no idea I wanted him to open the door for me in the first place. “I was simply encouraging him to get off his tush and be a gentleman.”

“When up yours means can you please open my door for me? the world will have become a very sad place.” Parker says with a roll of her eyes, staring lustfully into the distance and resting her head in her palms. She sighs. “But atleast it will still have him in it.”

“Oh my Gosh, like how can you go out with someone who shares the same name as you?” Hilary twirls her honey blonde hair around a finger and makes a face. “Mason and I meet each other in the middle; I pack the picnic basket, he carries it, I organise the books in his locker, he carries both mine and his to class.”

Natalie shrugs, “Rick and I share excellent physical relations.”

I roll my eyes at them all. Meeting each other in the middle, gooeyness, physical relations...let me tell you, no guy is getting anywhere near physical with me until they prove themselves worthy, or in other words are chivalrous, nice, can make me laugh...etc, etc. Basically I’m going to fall in love with a gay man.

The bell starts to ring and we all spring up from where we’re sprawled about the tree.

“Boys are so immature,” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder, “I’m waiting for uni like my cousin did; she’s got a totally sweet boyfriend.”

Troy’s P.O.V.

I walk down the hall, shaking my head and scowling. Look at them all, giggling to themselves, patting down their hair – spreading gloss over their already way too tempting lips. I’d go out with them, but like I said, I’m already in bad with the guys.

Perhaps having broken too many of their younger and older sister’s hearts can take a toll after a while. Just you know, perhaps.

“You know they say girls have two extra brain cells,” I say, looking to my friends for their confirmation on the ground breaking truths I am about to speak, “so why don’t they use them instead of pretending that they have some kind of a sixth sense?”

I look forwards only to discover a girl on en route right into my stomach, and suck in my breath as she collides, “See?” I say at the same time as the girl who steps back from my chest and glares at me.

It’s Nicole Fisher, with her wavy, shiny black hair and perpetually furrowed eyebrows. I let out my breathe in a whoosh and press my lips together; she is said to be going out with some band geek guy in our year, and she is smoking hot.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She demands, blinking her smoky kohl rimmed eyes at me and crossing her arms over her chest.

Nicole’s P.O.V.

“It’s statistically proven boys don’t mature until like, twenty-five or something.” I say to my friends, looking from side to side, trying to catch their eyes and receive a little nod of agreement. But they aren’t nodding. “I mean just face it, going out with boys now is just going to scare you away from them forever and it’s not like I want to go out with any of the guys from here –”

I find my face planting into someone’s chest and I growl into it, “See,” at the same time as he says the exact same thing, looking pointedly at his friends.

It’s Troy Portner, and he’s looking down at me, his all too long blonde hair nearly touching his shoulders and his chocolate brown eyes looking into mine all inscrutable.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I want to know, blinking bemusedly, crossing my arms. It’s weird enough he goes around, bumping into me and saying the same things at the same time as me...he doesn’t have to go looking at me like that too.

His eyes flicker and he leans away from me a little, “Hello Nicky.”

I roll my eyes and go to walk off with my friends when I realise – there’s not a friend left standing beside me to walk off with. I withhold a groan and look up to see Troy still looking down at me all weirdly.

“What were you talking about Nicky?” he asks casually, his hands slipping into his pockets and his head slightly tilting.

I peer up at him, deciding whether to answer or not, and feeling the familiar speeding up of my heart that comes whenever I talk, bump into or even look at Troy. I look away and shrug, like I’m bored, “Oh. This and that – what were you talking about?” I give him a look.

“Not to anger you, Nicky, but...” he smiles and lowers his eyelashes, “...I did ask first.”

“And I didn’t answer so –” but he interrupts me, pulling a hand through his hair, pressing his lips together and shaking his head at me all mock disappointedly. I blink.

“Which is – your not answering me – by the way, kind of rude. I mean,” he sucks in his breath, looks into my eyes all mournfully, and lets out a huge sigh, “if you’re going to expect me to answer your questions...at least set a good example and answer mine...by the way, didn’t you leave that band geek in his car after swearing at him for a full half hour? I usually give my girls more of a chance than that.”

Troy’s P.O.V.

She looks like she’s going to slap me, she’s glaring that hard – only it’s sad to find, when I really think about it...I wouldn’t even mind her slapping me, at least she’d be touching my face which is better than nothing I guess.

But better than nothing, really, is not good enough for me of all people. I just don’t get better than nothing. I get the best.

I only brought it up because I wanted to know if she’d broken up with that loser.

She blinks at me, her lips pursing, and her brows furrowing more and more by the second. Her pretty black hair is getting attacked by her finger nails as she tries to remain calm, stroking her delicate locks not so delicately.

“Well,” she says and she does that thing when she pretends like you haven’t annoyed her, shrugging and rolling her eyes like she’s so blasé – when she really isn’t – saying in a cool voice, her eyes flashing, “if giving girls a chance means going out with two at the same time...I’d say you’re right.”

She raises her eyebrows at me and is about to turn around and walk to her locker. But I can’t let her go. Not on that note. She didn’t deny the breaking up with her geek boy, which means she has indeed broken up with the guy – and is currently single and valentine-less and needs me to take her out on a hot date.

So obviously she can’t go, not until she gets what she needs, no, not needs – what she deserves. What she totally deserves.

Which in this case is me.

“Hey, what do you say we make us a deal?” I ask hesitantly – because I am after all kind of hesitant. I mean I am me. I am hot, I am charming, great to talk to and an all round nice guy – but most of all modest – but she’s...she’s her.

I generalised before when I said girls, god, they think they know everything because Nicky not only thinks she knows everything, she really, really does know everything. Everything but the fact I have the hots for her.

Nicky swivels her head back to me and crosses her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows. “Depends,” says her once again cool – but totally sexy – voice, “what’s the deal? You leave me alone and I don’t get my older brother to bash the shit out of you?”

Her older brother. She mean’s her sister’s boyfriend. Whom – I’m not sure she realises this though – she has a total crush on, and whom has given her unrealistic expectations for males both far and wide.

I hate him already and I haven’t even met him.

I almost smirk at her, and nearly burst my muscles trying not to, “Well that’d be a little easier if he were taller than me, hon.”

I have one-upped him on one thing though. He’s barely taller than her sister, who is – admittedly – quite tall for a girl, but I’m much taller than him. I point this out to her every chance I get. She does wonder where I get my information from – but it’s a little stupid to wonder when three of her friends are going out with three of mine.

“He is a perfectly adequate height thank you very much.” She says, her bright blue eyes flashing at me.

“Sure, shortie,” I always point out her height to her, too. I’m fun and nice that way, “anyway...moving on; you, me, valentines, date, food at some place and then – movies at my place.”

Nicole’s P.O.V.

I stare at him. I can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not. He is smiling – but I’m not sure it’s a ha-ha, I joke kind of smile or a say yes smile. The best thing to do when you’re unsure about something is...

“No freaking way,” I laugh, covering my mouth with a hand. My heart jitters around in my chest and whinges to my voice box. But I’m too nervous to say yes.

Reject them. Because then it’s their pride going down the dunny, and not yours.

He keeps on smiling though and then bends his knees, bending lower and lower until he’s approximately at my height, “Okay, little miss immaturity; I’ll go down to your level. Go out with me and I’ll give you a lolly pop little girl; the point of this is to prove to you I can go out with someone...and not cheat on them...and you’ll prove to me you’re not a complete cow to every guy you’ve ever gone out with.”

I stare at him. I’m not a complete cow. I’m just...I’m very rigorous with my training of the male persuasion. If I let them go for one little mistake next thing you know they’ll be making big whoppers, and look out the next poor girl who goes out with them!

I’m making the world a better place for girls.

“But Troy, that’d require me being nice to you...and by the way why would I care about what you think about me?” I want to know, raising my eyebrows.

Only a little voice in me tells me that I do. The same little voice that’s been telling my heart to pound when he’s around. The same little, tiny voice that makes me think, for just one second – that I’d really like to go out with Troy.

He smiles sweetly at me and raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms, “Why wouldn’t you care?” he laughs, sounding kind of nervous like the way I’m feeling – and I think maybe, maybe he honestly wants to. Go out with me, I mean. “But no, seriously; lolly pop offer still stands and I’ll even get you more than one – one of those valentine heart ones to suit the occasion, you know?”

I look up and bite my lip. I’m nervous. I can’t lie about that because I am. I’m totally nervous – but I can’t show fear or timidity in front of the enemy so...

I shrug, roll my eyes, and look into his chocolate brown ones.

“I guess, so where’s it at?” I concede.

Troy’s P.O.V.

Oh my God. She said yes. I mean; I was prepared to do anything to get her to go, even be nice and not tease her all day, open doors for her, give her a massage...

But all it takes for her to agree is a few heart shaped lolly pops. I have to admit it, I’m a little disappointed I didn’t have to chase her a little more – I give great chase, and normally I don’t have the opportunity to test it out on girls because they agree well...immediately, no joke.

I’m so shocked I don’t even know where to say. I mean I know I planned something earlier...but it’s just not...not good enough. I thought I’d have more time than this to think about it; but no she agrees almost right away.

“You’re going to be late for class, Troy,” Parker says as he walks past with a stack of books in his hands, like a total nerd compared to my not even having one. “Get a freaking move on and stop hitting on my girlfriend’s friend.”

I want to punch him. Seriously I do.

I look back to Nicole, worried she’s going to realise that I am, actually, hitting on her for real...and totally walk off in disgust, rejecting me. But she’s standing there, a slight...odd pinkness to her cheeks, waiting for me. “Hurry up, I don’t want to be late either you know...” she speaks.

“Oh, well, yes,” I say, trying to revert back to my confident and smart persona, “tomorrow, at uh eleven-thirty...morning...at...well how about I surprise you and pick you up from your house?”

I look around, anywhere but at her; at the grey lockers, at the people moving quickly away to their classes – when I get the shock of my life, feeling electricity jolt up through my body, and I look back at her again...and then to her arm...which is connected to her hand which is...on my arm!

Oh my God. She’s touching me. For real. She’s touching me – and it feels great.

“Okay.” she gives me a funny look, and then her hand falls from my arm and she walks off to her locker, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway, staring after her. I’m gaping, probably drooling.

I wipe under my lip just in case. I have to admit it...

I look to her as she bends down to the floor, opening her locker, her black hair curtaining her face as reaches in to grab her books.

...I’m psyched. I’m really psyched.

Nicole’s P.O.V.

It’s only a little date, only to prove that I’m not a total cow...because I’m not, and after that Troy and I will go back to being our normally at-each-other’s-throats selves and everything will be fine and normal again.

I look in the body length mirror at myself, eyeing my outfit in horror. Everything is so...so bright. I can’t wear this. I don’t have a clue why I put on a pikachu beanie in the first place...I mean, why on earth is that there? With my stripy black and yellow tank top, too?

I look like a bumble bee.

I’m about to whip my tank top over my head and change when there’s a sound coming from behind my bedroom door, and as it creeps open someone knocks their hand on it, “Knock, knock,” it’s Troy. Mum let him in the house without warning me.

I told her to warn me.

I can only stand there, awkward and helpless, as he steps through the door, closing it behind him and turning around. “Hey,” he says with a smirk, and looks over my outfit when I nearly have a heart attack because of his.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a white button down top with the collars sticking up, like all the ‘cool kids’ have their collars these days, and his shoes are black converse. His hair – I notice, is combed. I mean, it usually kind of is...but it just, it looks extra nice today.

I gulp and he walks up closer to me, holding out a rose, chocolates, and five lolly pops just as he promised, “Here you go, princess.” He gently pushes them into my hands.

I look down at them, and shift my weight in my own black converse. I bite my lip and have to remind myself who I’m going out with. I mean, it’s Troy Portner – I may have a history of being a ‘cow’ on my dates, but atleast I never mislead them to believe they actually meant something before cheating on them.

Even if he’s being really nice right now...I mean I can’t let my guard down, can I? It’d be very irresponsible to do something like that.

So I can’t. I won’t – it isn’t going to happen.

“Well,” I look up, cool as you like, forcing a smile, “let’s get going then?”

Troy’s P.O.V.

I pull up outside her house and look over it, with all its nice gardens with the flowers. There’s a little bird bath to the side a few metres away from the bench I catch Nicky sitting at, reading a magazine at times and watching the birds.

I wonder how it looks inside.

I get out of my car and press a button on my keys, locking it and making my way up to her doorway. I look through the stained glass windows either side of the wooden door, looking to see if anyone’s walking about.

No one is and so I press the doorbell in and wait awkwardly. I’m a little nervous I guess. I tap the box of chocolate and breathe in the rose, thanking God for my mother’s flower garden.

I hear footsteps and the door opens. Her mother stands there, looks me up and down, and grins her face off, “I remember you; you’re that little boy who tipped sand in Nicole’s hair that one day in grade four. She pointed you out when you walked past, walking your dog – she wasn’t very happy with you.”

“Ahaha...” I laugh weakly; that’s a little embarrassing. She probably thinks I’m a jerk. Well, most people think I’m a jerk. But I don’t want Nicky’s mum thinking I’m one, it’s going to be hard enough trying to convince Nicky.

She just smiles though, and let’s me in, pointing up the stairs to Nicky’s bedroom. I nod and thank her, not taking much notice of Nicky’s house so much as trying to get to her room as fast as I can; but what I do see is very nice, and orderly...

And then I open the door to her room and clothes are absolutely everywhere, “Knock, knock,” I say and close the door behind me before turning to look at Nicky.

She’s turned from her mirror, and is looking a picture of shock and embarrassment. I look at her pikachu hat and matching black and yellow outfit, and smirk. “Hey.”

She looks so cute, with some of her hair pulled back in barrettes and some of it left loose around her face, framing it. She has freckles over her nose, and she’s biting her lip – tempting me to kiss her.

But I can’t.

Nicole looks at me, staring blankly. I see her gulp and then I gulp and start walking towards her, holding out the rose, chocolates and the five promised lolly pops. “Here you go, princess.” I push them into her hands and smile gently.

She looks down at her gifts, more like she’s staring though them. I don’t know what she’s thinking about, but it makes her frown. I eye her curiously and she looks up, giving me an obviously forced smile, “Well,” she says coolly, “let’s get going then?”

“Let’s,” I say and she puts down the chocolates, rose and lolly pops onto the glass topped coffee table and I slyly slip my hand into hers as I walk past her, “because boy, have I got a day planned for you.”

I tap my fingers on the wheel as I go, sneaking glances at Nicole every now and then. She’s sitting there, head resting on a hand and looking out the window, silent. She turns her head further around but not before I can catch a slight grin on her face, “If you keep looking at me like that you’re going to run into something.”

The grin kind of loosens the effect of her sarcasm and I grin too, “Well. I like looking at you. Is that a crime?”

She doesn’t say anything, but I do see just the tiniest of skin beneath all that hair and it is flaming red. I grin even wider and look away, watching the houses blur as we go past them, watching line after line on the road – and not paying the least bit of attention to any of it.

All I can think of is, and in a childish tone; I made her blu-ush, I made her blu-ush, I made her blu –

“So, where are you taking me to?” She wants to know, interrupting my thoughts. I nearly drive off the road and into a tree when she asks though...

Because I haven’t even thought about where I’m taking her...I wanted to wait to see what she’s wearing, and then judge by her dress...and now, now I’m totally stumped. She looks totally cute and all, but where do you take a girl who’s wearing a pikachu hat on a date?

Nicole’s P.O.V.

Oh no. He’s looking at the hat. I knew it – I totally knew it! I shouldn’t have worn this hat at all. He’s looking at it like he can’t believe it’s even on my head. He’s looking at it like he thinks I’m a freak.

Wait. I don’t even care, right? I don’t even care.

Not one bit. Not at all.

“If you have a problem with my hat you can just say so you know?” I say quietly, as if it doesn’t matter at all if he likes my beanie or not. I like my beanie. I like my beanie a lot – it’s not like it’s dirty or anything, it hasn’t got a stain on it. I take good care of it...even if it’s not really date material as such...

But this isn’t even a real date.

“What??” he says in a shocked tone, sounding very guilty. I immediately feel my stomach plummet and I swallow my breath, trying not to take it very hard. I blink and feel my stomach twisting and turning inside of me. I start to feel really awful...and just because he doesn’t like my pikachu beanie, too.

I shake my head, trying to shake myself out of it, and look back out the window, saying very quickly, “It’s okay you don’t have to like it.”

“What??” he says again, and looks at me this time, his eyes widening. “No, no – I love your hat –”

“It’s okay.” I reaffirm and he shakes his head, slowing the car right down so he can talk to me without the risk of running into anything.

“I love your hat.” He tells me and I turn my head away from the mirror, raising my eyebrows in disbelief. He doesn’t like it. I can just tell.

“Who cares? It’s just a stupid hat, Portner.” I shrug it off and go back to looking out the window when he slams his foot on the breaks – and the car, not very dramatically doesn’t scream to a stop...he’s going so slow anyway. I look back at him, about to reprimand him when he turns to me in his seat and looks me in the eyes.

“No, you have no idea – no idea how cute you look in that hat, that hat is so good, so good –” I hear car beeps in the background and my eyes pop.

“Troy, drive, they’re getting ma –” I am once again interrupted.

“It is so good I am going to take you to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant I can find, just you wait and see,” he heeds my cut off warning, and starts snail-pacing down the road, increasing by miniscule margins as he finishes what he has to say, “I’ll show you who likes your hat, Nicky; me.”

I sit back in my seat and blink, eyes wide, “Whatever you say, Troy; just drive a little faster.”

“Wait here,” Troy says and looks determinedly through the glass doors of the Golden Dragon, a restaurant named for irony; as it doesn’t sell any Chinese at all, it sells everything and anything but Chinese.

It’s really expensive though; Troy wasn’t exaggerating when he said he’d take me to the most expensive restaurant in town – it costs about fifty bucks a pop, and that means he’ll be paying a hundred bucks for the both of us.

It’s making me feel really guilty though. I mean no matter how many girls he cheats on, no matter how mean he can be – I’m still going to feel guilty for making him pay for a meal that’s my fault because of my stupid hat. I bite my lip.

He’s about to walk through the doors when I grab hold of his hand...and squeeze, “Troy, look; don’t be silly, okay?”

He looks down at me, looks at my hand, and a smile creeps across his lips, “I’m not ‘being silly’,” he says, squeezing my hand back and walking through the doors before I can make any further protest.

I bring my hand to my face; it’s tingling and it’s making me feel nice all over. I look at Troy’s form as he walks up to the girl at the counter and admire it.

I feel a tiny little pang and blink; a pang...? But no...no it can’t be, not for him. No way, Jose. I can’t feel any pangs for him. Oh no, no, no....

But...but I did.

I watch as Troy leans across the counter, and see, as I squint at him, him winking at the blonde haired girl at the other side sitting in a chair, looking back at him with a smirk. I frown and step forward, opening the door a little discreetly – and press my ear to it, listening in. “But what’ll you do for me, Troy, what’ll you do for me?”

I glance sideways at him and frown. He leans even further over the counter and whispers something in her ear and she laughs, “Oh, okay then...I’ll have your word for it.”

He grins at her and leans back, about to turn around again.

I push away from the door and let it close. My heart panged – it’s panging, for him. It really, really is. I widen my eyes in horror. Which means...it means I like Troy Portner, and not just in a physical sort of sense...I like him for him.

The him that was just flirting with the girl over the counter, just like he said he would prove to me he wouldn’t on our date. Well not her specifically of course but he said not any girl, and she’s certainly a girl – and what a girl. She’s got blonde hair to her hips, the brightest of baby blue eyes and on her lips is a charming smile.

I feel a tremor of jealousy and narrow my eyes as he walks away from her, shaking his head with a smile on his lips, pushing the door open in front of him. “That Sam,” he says as he goes through the door.

He looks down at me and I immediately wipe the look from my face, replacing it with a look of cold indifference and crossing my arms, “So, are we in?” I know we’re in. I know by the smile on that girl’s face – she’s definitely going to let us in if he does whatever he promised to do.

“We sure are,” he says puffing up his chest proudly and reaching for my hand.

I dodge it surreptitiously and walk past him through the doors, letting them slam in his face behind me as I stalk up to the counter, a gleam in my eyes. I stand up the tallest I can in flats and with my very own miniscule height. “Where’s the table?”

She batts her long eyelashes at me slowly before smiling and saying in an amused sort of voice, looking over my shoulder as the restaurant door swings back open, “I’m sure your boyfriend will show you...he seems to like you very much, Nicky; you’re a lucky girl.” She whispers the last part.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say very quickly and once more dodge Troy’s hands behind me by crossing my arms; it doesn’t work though and I feel my eyes bug, and my stomach go aflutter when he snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me to him.

“Let’s get to our table then shall we, Nicky?” he says and he pulls me around with him and starts walking me over to a table for two. He’s silent most of the way but after pulling out my chair, gently pushing me into it and sitting down himself; he gives me a look, and raises his eyebrows.

“What are you doing, Nick?” he wants to know.

Troy’s P.O.V.

She dodges my hands for the second time; this time I know it’s not just a mistake, and I must admit I get a little angry with her. What is up? She’s all hot and cold. Before she holds my hand, even reaching out and grabbing it herself – and now I’m not allowed to hold hers?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he tells my brother’s fiancé who raises an eyebrow at her, looking to me with a funny look on her face. I grimace, and hell, if she’s going to play hard ball...

I feel her stiffen as I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to my side.

I feel my side burn; the side she’s pressed against, and I close my eyes, leading her blindly to the table, knowing the place well. I shiver with desire before I let her go, pushing her gently into the chair and sitting down on my own.

I raise my eyebrows and give her a look.

“What are you doing, Nick?” I inquire, resting my head in my hands and eyeing her.

She looks at me, opens her mouth and then closes it, “Nothing,” she says with the tiniest of smiles, “nothing at all, now can we eat?”

I stare at her. It isn’t nothing, she’s upset about something – I know it. I’ve got senses for this kind of stuff, and it’s especially noticeable since I’ve had so much experience with girls being upset with me...and she is acting pretty much the same as any of those girls, slash the total obviousness.

But I can still see it.

“No, seriously, Nicole, tell me.” I insist, leaning over the table so she can see my eyes, so she’ll know I’m being honest about...well, whatever’s upset her. But I hear the groaning of her chair and the space I move forward – she moves back.

“Honestly, nothing,” she says with a smile.

I decide it’s best to leave it. I mean she’s only going to get annoyed with me if I keep asking her about it.

I sigh dramatically and roll my eyes, “Fine, fine.” I smirk at her. “But you’re going to have to make up for it...”

Nicole’s P.O.V.

“Oh, and how may I ask will I do that?” I raise my eyebrows at him. Which is when he drops the smile and plants his hands on the middle on the table, reaches forward – and pulls my face gently to his. But, nervous out of my mind, I keep on talking – I mean he can’t really be about to kiss me can he? Can he?

“Because you know what, I’m starting to feel super hungry, so now can we eat? Now that we’ve clarified nothing’s wrong? Because I assure you I’m not going to waste one cent of what you’ve paid –” his lips touch mine hesitantly, and then close over them completely.

I have had a lot of dates, and truth be told; yeah I have kissed some boys. But none of them, none of them kiss like Troy Portner. But I guess there’s a reason for that...

He’s had a lot of practice.

His hands start to weave through my hair and his stomach slides across the table, knocking off menus and bumping off a vase. My eyes bug as I watch it fall to the ground – and smash into tiny little pieces, knocking Troy out of his endeavours of the sucking face variety, as he pulls his lips slightly away from mine, glancing to the floor with lazy eyes. “Oops.”

His eyes turn to mine, misty with desire but clearing as the seconds tick by. I pull away from him and his hands, “I’m going to go get something to eat,” I say very quickly and walk off in the other direction towards the buffet. I feel his eyes following after me but continue on to the buffet, looking about for plates and avoiding his gaze.

At the end of each table set up is a bunch of plates, bowls and eating utensils. I head for them, looking over the food as I go; there’s almost everything, and there’s even more tables to look at – this table appears to hold a lot of Italian and Mexican food, like lasagne and tacos. I love lasagne and tacos.

I pick up a plate from the end and go to place a taco shell filled with mince, lettuce, carrot, taco sauce and cheese – but notice in the corner of my eye that Troy hasn’t followed after me...but has gone back to flirt with the girl at the counter.

I drop the plate. It doesn’t smash, but it makes a bit of noise. Couples at tables stare at me, and give me funny looks. But it doesn’t seem to make enough noise to distract Troy from the blonde haired, blue eyed counter goddess.

I look away and grab the taco, picking up my plate and putting it on it, beginning to feel a little upset. I should have known. I mean, can you expect a guy who cheats without guilt, kisses without warning and then puts on a sweet façade – to play by the rules?

He took me out so he could prove me wrong. But unfortunately – or fortunately, really, he’s proved me right. Fortunate because I’m glad I found it out now, before I go do anything crazy like ask him out again.

Not that I planned on doing that ever. But you know; it’s safe to say it won’t be happening now at all.

I pick another taco from the pile and place it on my plate, looking around for more food to put on it when I spot the aforementioned lasagne and walk to it automatically, like a robot. I’m blinking my eyes rapidly. I’m not going to cry. I’m not.

I sniffle and brush a hand across my eyes, “Hey Nicky, you’re putting a lot on that plate for starters; you realise this is...hey, hey what’s up?”

I ignore Troy and stick my fork into the lasagne piling it, and a lot of it, onto my plate alongside the tacos. I press my lips together and blink even more, trying not to let any more out – even though, obviously, he’s already seen them.

“Nicole look obviously you’re upset...” he walks along behind me and I quicken my pace, scooping things onto my plate as I go along. “I can’t apologise if I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, come on, Nicole just turn around and we’ll –”

I spin around, grabbing up a taco from my plate and shoving it into my mouth, and say, with a whole bunch of food in my mouth, “What? You blew it, you’ve blown it – you’ve proved it. Now go away. I’ll pay for myself.”

He looks at me, and bites his lip, “I have no idea what you just said. I did get bits, but honestly it didn’t make much sense to me. I blew what?”

I stare at him. What an idiot. I roll my eyes and shove more taco into my mouth, waiting for him to realise. I mean, it’s not like it’s nothing half-obvious.

But he doesn’t say anything, just waits. I swallow my food and let out a frustrated sigh, pointing at him, “You are the biggest jerk I’ve ever met,” I tell him angrily and he blinks and is about to protest but I hold my hand up, “no, stop, I’m not finished. What kind of person does that? Just kisses a girl – on the first date might I add –”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh. It’s about this. Well. You so wanted to kiss me –”

“And then goes and flirts with somebody else right after, like it meant nothing.” I say angrily, and then catch myself. “I mean, not like it meant anything to me. Because it didn’t. But it’s just bad manners. Manners, which, by the way, you were supposed to be proving me wrong of today.”

On wrong of today I dump my plate of food right over his head in anger, for emphasis. I shrug, staring at him coldly, “But you didn’t.”

He stares at me, cheese, tomato juice and all kinds of things dripping and falling out of his hair and down his face. He swallows, and says gently, bringing a hand to his hair and brushing some of it off, “I see how that must look to you...but believe me, that’s first girl I’d flirt with – if I wanted my ass kicked.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and says unblinkingly, “That’s my brother’s fiancée.”

I stare at him, “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that she’s too young –”

“She’s twenty-three years old.” He protests and then points in her general direction. “Go and ask her, go on. Now.”

“I’m sure that’s what she’d tell me.” I glare at him, not believing him. I mean, how many girls had he had to have said this kind of thing to? I’m probably 999 on the list, and that’s being generous. It’s probably even more than that.

He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, blinking furiously in confusion, “What is that supposed to – oh. You think I’m lying to you?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t lied to girls before, Troy.” I say coolly and cross my arms.

He laughs, but like he doesn’t find that funny at all, “Oh this is so rich, coming from you – accusing me of not doing my part of our little deal? She is my brother’s fiancée, and I have tried so hard being nice to you today. You didn’t even say ‘thanks’ for taking you here, or ‘thanks’ for the rose, or anything else. I like you, Nicky. I like you. But you know what? It’s too bad because you’ll never, ever give me a chance.”

He lets go of my shoulders and steps back, letting out another little humourless laugh that makes my heart throb and fresh tears spring to my eyes. “Just like all those other guys you never did.” He says with a forced smile and a shrug, before he rolls his eyes, and walks off.

I gulp and blink furiously, hands balled into fists at my sides as I stare after him. “Troy...”

It’s like in the movies, when everything goes in slow motion, and when something invisible comes and squeezes on the main characters heart and it hurts so bad. But no matter how hard they try, no matter if they scream after that person who’s walking away from them – they never seem to be able to catch up to, or get that person to listen.

Troy’s P.O.V.

“God you suck at checkers, man,” I laugh at Parker, killing one of his checkers and placing it next to my side of the checker board. I can feel someone’s gaze on me and I’m pretty sure I know who it is, too. She’s been following me around all week, but she’s yet to make any attempt at conversation.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I mean, I really like the girl and all – I still do. But she can’t expect me to go up to her and make everything all better. She needs to tough it up and apologise, because that’s all it’ll take. “Now why don’t you just give up and save yourself the embarrassment?” I ask when Parker when he once again makes a bad move with his checkers.

I move a checker over his, and put it next to all the other white checkers I’ve managed to reap from him, shaking my head with disgusted amusement. Parker looks down at the checker board and glares at it, throwing up his hands, “God, checkers hate me.”

Mason and Rick lean back in their chairs, but their eyes aren’t on the game. Their eyes are staring straight ahead and up, and glancing to the side I find what they’re looking at. Nicole Fisher.

“Um,” she says awkwardly, her hands hanging loosely at her sides and her cheeks pinkening. She sucks in her breath and starts to fidget. I look away from her and back to the game. Parker seems to have lost interest in it too, and is looking up curiously at Nicole, wondering if she’s going to say anything this time.

“Hey Parker, eyes on the game; I want to beat you for the tenth time today.” Predictably Parker’s eyes switch back onto the checkers game, he never resists a challenge, no matter how bad he knows he’s going to suck at it.

“Um,” she says.

I look back up at her as Parker makes yet another horrible move. “Okay, I’m playing checkers right now and I’m pretty sure ‘um’ is not any word you can find in the dictionary...so if that’s all you have to say to me; go away.”

I look back to the game and once again, skip over Parker’s checker.

“Damn it,” he hisses at the checker board and I let out a little bit of a laugh and pump my fist, he glares at me, “it’s not over, buddy.”

“It’s not all I have to say,” she says and I look up to her inquiringly, raising my eyebrows and crossing my arms over my chest. Nicole lets out a breath, closes her eyes, and opens them again. Looking right into mine, and intensely. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I say and watch Parker make another bad move. “God, you’re hopeless, and yet – you do well in class.”

“Excuse me?” Nicole says incredulously, thinking I’m talking to her.

“Not you, him – although it’s perfectly fine for you to take it that way.” I say with a shrug, copying her previous blasé attitude to boys – more specifically me on our date. I can feel her gaze on me; but I choose to ignore it.

“Did you hear what I said?” she asks as I pick up Parker’s checker and put it back where it was, shaking my head and giving him another chance. “Troy?”

Okay. I might be being a little immature about things. But she kind of hurt my feelings the other day. I mean I gave her flowers, was nice to her, and even convinced my near sister in law to give me a table without first making reservations – by promising her to hint my brother at what to get her for her birthday.

“You’re supposed to try and avoid my getting your checkers, not practically give them to me. Move it there.” I gesture towards another spot on the board where he’d be safe (for the moment) but he shakes his head, wagging his finger as he does.

“No way, I’m not falling for your tricks,” he gives a laugh, “you’ll make me lose.”

He puts the checker down in another spot. A spot where I can also knock off one of his checkers. I shake my head again. “I’m sorry mate; you don’t need any help with that...” I skip over his checker and put it on the pile.

“Did you hear what I said?” Nicole insists, a little bit of irritation creeping into her voice now which she’s trying to cover with a sweet, dulcet tone – which isn’t working very well...or at all, actually.

I look up at her and shrug, forcing a smile back, and saying slowly, “Maybe...maybe if you’d said it, I don’t know, maybe a week ago I would have listened? It’s too late, Nick.”

She stares at me, “What?” she wants to know, speaking in blatant disbelief and blinking her eyes rapidly. I smile at her mock gently and shrug, looking back to the game. Parker’s distracted again and Mason hands Rick five bucks, swearing. I blink. “No, no don’t be such a jerk!”

“A jerk?” I echo, raising my eyebrows. “But that’s what I am if I recall...but in different words, different words that suggest I cheat on my girlfriends with my brother’s fiancée. I’m sorry if I’m not as you’d like.”

“Troy,” she says softly and I almost cave in to her and clench my teeth to prevent myself from doing so. I want to cave though. She’s looking at me so pleadingly. But not yet. I want to see her beg. Beg!

“That is my name.” I say nonchalantly, not looking at her face. “Hurry up with it and go; I want to play checkers.”

“Troy,” she says again, this time more firmly and I look up, only to find her pushing the chessboard off the middle of the table and over the side of it, checkers going everywhere. “Stop playing your stupid game and talk to me.”

“The checkers, now I’m not going to win –” but she doesn’t – as I realise as she makes me nearly topple over in my chair – feel much like talking as she says because she plants her lips right on mine and slips her tongue into my gaping mouth. I groan and grab her by the waist, pushing her away.

“Guys,” I say stepping up from my chair, hands still on Nicole’s waist, “I’m going to make Nicole go away...take her outside, show her the way...she doesn’t seem to be able to make it out there herself.”

Nicole glares at me and I let go of her waist, grab her by the wrist, and begin to drag her outside. Very, very quickly. Because you know what? Girls aren’t so bad after all. Especially this one I’m thinking of.

Nicole’s P.O.V.

I fume as he drags me out. He doesn’t have to say it quite like that. He doesn’t have to be so mean about it. He could’ve just said no, nicely. But no, he has to shove me away like I’m a sack of potatoes and then embarrass me in front of all of his friends – my friend’s boyfriends.

He guides me out the door, hands gently shoving me along, and then he closes the door behind us, letting go of me. I spin around and spit at his face, “I can find my own way out of there thanks, if you’re going to be –”

But he laughs, softly, and I get even angrier at him, clenching my fists. He shakes his head, hanging it and then looking down at me through his lashes, “You really don’t talk in guy code...” he then grabs me up in his arms and brings my lips to his own, backing me up against the library brick walls.

I feel myself smile and I close my eyes, wrapping my arms around his neck all tight, and feeling his arms tighten even more so around me.

His kiss is sweet, soft and very slow. I like it. I like him. I like a boys. Correction; I like a boy, and this is him.

oOoOoOo

You have no idea how long that took me to write. Not that I’m a slow typist, or anything. Just one bit I had to rewrite and every time I went to write it again I had to read it over for mistakes and get in the mood again. I also kept getting distracted by the new 90210 episodes. It’s very long – is it my longest one shot?

I think it is. Oops. Forgive me; I beg of you. And there’s more coming, tonight I’ll be updating Chasing Emily too. Sorry for not doing that sooner. Just thought I should get this one shot done as valentines day was getting further and further away.

You know you love me,

Xoxo.