The Megan Chapters

Summary: James and Cara exchange witty banter about Megan.

. . . . . . . .

“Sooo,” a tall brunette said, checking her nails, “you just gonna let her go like that?”

“I kinda have to, don’t I?” a boy with brown curly hair asked, watching the blond he had been pining over get into her car in the parking lot of their church.

“She’s going to Georgia for, like, until Christmas, D’Aniello,” the brunette said, “you’ll see each other again.”

“Yeah,” he responded, “but long distance relationships never work out.” The brunette took a step forward and gazed seriously into the Spanish boy’s eyes.

“Listen, D’Aniello,” she said harshly as the blond put her things in the backseat and opened the front door of her car, “if you let her go without at least asking for her cell phone number, I will personally break your nose.” D’Aniello raised an eyebrow and backed away from the brunette slowly.

“Jeez,” he remarked, “you sure are harsh.” The brunette rolled her eyes.

“If I wasn’t harsh I wouldn’t have survived this long,” she remarked, “now go and ask her for her phone number.” D’Aniello laughed nervously, gazing at the brunette with pleading eyes.

“I’m not asking for you, D’Aniello,” she said, waving him off, “so either you get your non-existent hiney over there and ask her yourself or I break that cute little Spanish nose of yours.” D’Aniello sighed.

“And you’d really do it too,” he said, rubbing his temples before making his way over to the blond’s car.

“Megan,” he called as she sat down in the driver’s seat. The blond looked up at him and smiled.

“James,” she said, calling him by his first name instead of his last name like the brunette did. He felt his lips curl into a smile, and his heartbeat go faster.

“I…uh…” he said, glancing back at the brunette who appeared to be examining her nails again, but he knew she was watching him.

“You…?” Megan asked, prompting him to continue.

“Ithinkweshouldkeepintouch,” he said, trying to be cool, but the words came out all jumbled together. He blushed, embarrassed by how hard this was for him.

“Uh…” Megan said, “I don’t think I quite got that.” James sighed, trying to calm himself down.

“Maybe, if it was cool with you,” he began, swallowing hard, “we could keep in touch while you’re off at college?” Megan blinked and raised her eyebrows, James swallowed hard again.

“It is cool,” Megan said, a little confused, “In fact…I told Cara to go ahead and give you my number so you could call.” James blushed, then, shooting an angry glare in the brunette’s direction; she ignored it.

“Oh,” James responded.

“That was okay, right?” She asked, “I mean…I assumed you two were friends.” James mumbled something under his breath.

“We are, kind of.”

“Cool,” she responded, leaning over her seat and grabbing a Sharpie marker before taking his hand, “May I?” James blushed again and nodded.

When she finished, James stared down at his hand, memorizing the ten numbers she had scribbled down in permanent black ink.

“Call me sometime, D’Aniello,” she said with a smile and James couldn’t help but smile back. When she called him by his last name it sounded so different than when Cara did it, much less hostile.

“Sure thing,” he responded. She smiled at him and climbed the rest of the way into her car, turning the keys in the ignition and flipping the air on.

“I look forward to hearing from you,” she said before closing her car door. James smiled at her, waving as she pulled out of her parking space and into the steady line of cars leaving the church.

Then he turned around and glared at the brunette that was grinning at him, now finished inspecting her nails. He marched back towards her, and growled.

“Megan told me she told you to give me her number,” he said angrily. The brunette grinned wider.

“Oh?” she asked, feigning confusion “must’ve slipped my mind.”

“I really don’t like you,” he snapped. The brunette’s mouth fell open and her hand went to her heard.

“Y’really mean it?” she asked excitedly. James glared at her and she laughed, a loud barking laugh, “doesn’t hurt my feelings any, drummer boy.”

“It should,” he mumbled under his breath, turning on his heel to head towards his car.

“Hey!” she called after him, but he didn’t turn back around, “you’re forgetting something!” James stopped then, turning back towards her.

“What?” he asked, thinking he had maybe forgotten that his kid brother was still in the church.

“Your dignity! Zing!” She shouted and James slapped his forehead, genuinely pissed off as he turned around and walked to his car.

“What was that about?” a young boy, who looked to be about thirteen, asked when he made it to his car.

“Ben’s stupid sister being stupid,” he remarked.

“She try to ask you out again?” he asked with an amused look.

“No,” he muttered, “she’s just being…” he trailed off, at a loss for words as he shoved his key into his door and unlocked it, unleashing a growl of frustration.

“Mean?” His brother questioned.

“You could say that,” James muttered, climbing into the car and leaning over to unlock his brother’s door. His brother got in without another word and the two headed off towards home.