Author: evizyt PM
For every romance that isn't, every girl that's ever been frustrated, every guy that was ever an insufferable bastard. "YOU SUCK!" Chelsea screamed, and then restrained herself. "Hard?" Travis wanted to know.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,703 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 18 - Updated: 08-11-09 - Published: 07-14-09 - id: 2697117
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Chapter 2! Thank you SO MUCH for all the kind reviews! Love you guys!
Chelsea was walking, while Travis biked. She hated it when he biked, because he always rode a little faster than she could walk, and it made for awkward conversation.
"You look like a geek in that helmet," was all she said. It was also true.
"As opposed to you, who simply looks like a geek most of the time?" He rejoined. She made as if to wince, holding a hand against her heart, but in reality she had deserved that.
"Did you know that you have no friends at all?" She asked conversationally.
Travis slowed the bike. "Aren't you my friend?" He asked, heartbreakingly innocent, blue eyes shining with sincerity. Chelsea wobbled.
"Too bad it's not mutual," Travis said, pushing down a pedal and speeding ahead, laughing.
"You're an ass!" Chelsea shouted.
"Sorry, what, you like my ass?"
"Actually, yes, it's a very nice ass."
Travis fell off his bike. "What!?"
"Did—hahaha—did you just—hahaha—" Chelsea collapsed, holding her sides. Travis's helmet hung rakishly off one ear, as he cocked his head at her.
"Chelsea, this is very important. Do you find my manly buns attractive?"
"Extremely," Chelsea said, straight-faced. Travis puffed out his chest.
"What can I say?"
"That you like mine in return?"
"Sorry, I don't lie to make people feel better about themselves."
"It's okay. When you do dumb shit like fall off your bike you don't have to do anything else, the rest of us already feel great in comparison." Chelsea felt like jumping up and saying "BOOSH!" and then making the 'basket' symbol.
"Boosh?" Travis wanted to know.
"It's a new word I picked up. It means 'owned,'" she explained.
"I would consider it, if you had used it in appropriate context," Travis said haughtily.
"You're just jealous because you just got owned," Chelsea informed him.
Bored with the conversation as it was, she helped him get back on his bike. "I'm gonna head out," she said. "I have, like, homework or something that I should be doing."
"I want to pinch," he said, as she was turning away.
"Why no pinch? Maybe little pinch?"
Chelsea couldn't help herself, she laughed aloud at his ridiculous accent. Putting on the heavy surfer-american accent that the Honda element in the commercial always had, she reluctantly continued the role play. "Uh, I have some melted butter and tongs in my trunk…"
"No pinch. No pinch… No pinch." At this moment, Travis lunged from his bike, squeezing her abruptly around the waist.
"EEK!" Chelsea squealed, jumping a foot in to the air. "NO PINCH!" This, apparently, was the queue for him to hop off his bicycle and begin chasing her around, thumb and index finger functioning as his makeshift pincers.
"I want to pinch! Maybe little pinch?" Whenever he caught her Chelsea shrieked with laughter, wriggling in his grasp and shaking uncontrollably. She was extremely ticklish, and not many people knew, but Travis always liked to take advantage of it.
"Stop!" She cried, seizing spastically like an epileptic might. "Stop! Travis!" Breathless, he finally relinquished her.
"Ooh baby, I love it when you say my name like that," he said, stepping towards her so that they were practically nose to nose.
She pushed him in the chest. "Come too close and I'll purple-nurple you in revenge for that." He skipped away, hands holding his pectoral region protectively.
"I'm very proud of my nipples, thank you very much."
"I can tell… I mean you have such big ones."
"That's what she said."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, she did say it. Just now."
"Is it a habit of yours to refer to yourself in the third person?" Travis wanted to know.
"Is it a habit of yours to feel yourself up in the presence of others? Please, save that for your room," Chelsea said, looking pointedly at Travis's hands, which were still on his chest.
He hastily dropped them to his sides, assuming a pose of haughty indifference. "The rest will have to remain in your fantasies."
Chelsea snorted. "Not even my wildest."
"So you do have fantasies about me?"
"Oh, all the time," Chelsea said blandly. "Wild, sexual, animalistic ones."
Travis looked mildly taken aback. "For real?"
"Of course not."
"Excuses, excuses," Travis sighed. "I know all you ladies just can't wait to see my shirt come off…"
"Yeah, if we wanted our retinas burned to a crisp."
"By the sight of my fantastic bod? It wouldn't be the first time…" At this they both dissolved in to laughter.
"You are utterly ridiculous," Chelsea giggled.
"The ladies, they dig," Travis replied, giving her a sidelong glance.
Noting his current position, in a quick movement Chelsea neatly separated herself from him and hopped on his bike.
"Hey, get off that!" Travis shouted, as she started pedaling. "Seriously, Chelsea, get off that, it's mine!"
Hearing the serious note in his voice, she acquiesced, braking and hopping down. "Chill out man," she said patronizingly. "No big deal."
"That's my bike!" Travis was angry. The joke was over.
"I'm gonna go do my homework," Chelsea said, walking away from him. Bipolar man-bitch. It was just a stupid bike. "Whatever," she said aloud. He would forget about this all later, and they would just pretend like it never happened.