How Long is Forever?

VI

I wonder, not for the first time in my life, how it is that I manage to get myself into situations like this. I'm standing in the doorway to Landon's house, staring stupidly at his painfully white carpet. I know what's coming, and try to hide my panic as best I can.

Landon takes off his spotless black loafers, revealing equally perfect matching black socks.

And then it happens.

He turns to me and says, "you can leave your shoes here."

Then he turns and goes into the house, leaving me suffer alone, because that's the type of person he seems to be. Now, usually I have no qualms about divesting of my shoes, but today is not usually.

In all my nervousness and freaking out this morning, I had been unable to find a clean, matching, hole-less pair of socks. I hadn't been expecting to have to take my shoes off. So I settled for one dirty black sock with a hole on the heel, and a ghastly neon sports sock which I suspected was Jesse's.

So it is with gritted teeth and much mental berating that I take off my new shinny shoes, and walk into the house. By now, Landon has disappeared from the hallway, but I can hear the clatter of glasses coming from what I can only assume must be the kitchen, so I take off in that direction.

They say that one's home reflects a lot about one's self. As I walk past the living room and dinning room I realize that either they are wrong, or there really isn't much to Landon. Although that wouldn't surprise me. The whole place is painted in the same shinning white as the fluffy carpet I'm desecrating with my disgusting socks. All the basics are there; sofa, chairs, tables. But that's it. No photos, strewn books, or misplaced knickknacks. I bet that if I looked in his garbage cans, they'd be empty. I don't do this of course, I'm not that much of a loser. At least I hope not.

I shuffle into the kitchen, announcing my entrance with a polite cough that ends up sounding more like chocking hack that anything else. I blush, but thankfully Landon doesn't see it since he's busy looking into the fridge. I wonder if he even has food in there, or if he's just using at an excuse not to have to look at me. It wouldn't surprise me.

"Took you long enough." He declares, not even bothering to look up.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say to that, so I settle for an eloquent, "yeah…"

"Do you want something to eat?" he asks, ignoring my answer.

So I guess he does have food in there after all. He takes out a piece of what looks like apple pie, and my heart melts. Everybody that knows me, knows that the way to my heart it though apple pie. It's how Jesse got me to sleep with him on our first date. Not that I'm planning on sleeping with Landon, just the thought makes me cringe.

"No, thanks." It's always best to be on the safe side. Anyway, Jesse said I shouldn't eat pie, it'll just make me fat.

Of course he ignores my polite refusal, and shoves the giant piece of apple pie in my hands.

"Eat." He commands handing me a spoon and pushing me towards one of the kitchen stools.

"Uhm…ok." I take sit on the stool and eye my piece of pie with trepidation. I don't know what I fear more, being fat or Landon.

Landon wins.

I take a hesitant bite, and let out an embarrassing moan. It's amazing. It's edible nirvana. It's better than sex. I'm in stupefied bliss, so I don't notice Landon looking down to where I've begun to swing my legs.

"Nice socks." He half snorts, and just like that he ruins my orgasmic experience.

OoOoOo

Two hour and three slices of pie later, we have almost finished going over my lesson plans, lecture notes, and project ideas. I don't think I've ever talked this much in my life. I have a tendency to babble when I'm nervous, and Landon makes me very, very nervous. He just sits there and grunts when I ask a question. I'm talking a mile a minute now, because I want to get out of this creepy white house and go home before Jesse finds out where I've been. And I still have to make dinner, and do the laundry, and….

"Bananas, in pajamas are walking down the stairs! Bana…"

I grope my pant leg frantically trying to get to my phone. I knew picking that ring tone would come back to haunt me. I know I'm blushing again and I can feel Landon's condescending smirk without even looking up at him.

"Sorry," I murmur, looking at the caller ID.

I feel the color drain from my face. It's Jesse.

I can't stop my hand from shaking as I open the phone.

"Where the hell have are you, you little shit?" Jesse screams through the phone, making me jump.

Out of the corner of my eyes I see Landon's eyes narrow, and I quickly get up and walk out of the room and hopefully out of earshot.

"Jesse, calm down. I'm just at my master teacher's house. We didn't have a chance to go over all my curriculum this morning, since I was late, so we came back here to finish."

I don't bother to mention that the reason I was late was because he took my car. I don't want to get him angrier than he already sounds.

There's silence on the other line for a moment, before he asks venomously, "Are you done fucking him?"

I sputter incoherently into the phone. He knows I would never cheat on him, and certainly not with Landon.

"I wasn't…" I whisper desperately,

"Just get your ass back home." And then line goes dead.

Damn, I knew he would get upset about this. He's got a way of misinterpreting situations, and I know that. I shouldn't have come.

I rush back into the kitchen, where Landon is waiting, a blank expression on his face.

"I have to go now." I tell him, already gathering papers and cramming them into my backpack.

"Your friend again?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhmm, yeah…It's sort of an emergency." I say, avoiding his disbelieving glare.

"I'm sure." Is all he says though.

OoOoOoO

I don't even complain about Landon's sucidal driving this time. I'm just grateful to be home in such a short time. As we reach my apartment building I can see a large figure pacing at the front door.

I know instinctly that it's Jesse. And I cringe when I see him look toward the motorcycle, frowning as he sees me. He looks angry.

I quickly unwrap my arms from Landon's waist, dismounting from the bike, trying to put as much space as possible between the two of us.

I take off the helmet with fumbling fingers and hand it back to Landon.

"You gonna be all right?" he asks gruffly, looking over my shoulder at Jesse.

The question surprises me, and I frown nervously. Does he suspect something? Does he think Jesse's going to hurt me? I know he might, but it's not what Landon probably thinks. Jesse doesn't abuse me or anything, he just get's angry sometimes.

But I'm not about to explain this to some scary guy I've known for less than a day. So I just nod dutifully and smile.

"Of course I'll be all right, why wouldn't I be?"

I feel Landon's dark penetrating gaze on me for a moment, before he shrugs.

"No reason."

He revs up his bike, but doesn't take off. I give him a short wave, which he doesn't return, and start walking toward Jesse.

My suspicions are confirmed when I reach him and see the anger flaring across his beautiful pale features.

"What the fuck where you doing with that guy?" he snarls.

He grabs me roughly by my upper arm and I flinch at the painful grip. I don't answer, knowing that saying anything will just make the situation worse. His grip on my arm tightens and he pulls me into the building before I can squeak. But before the door closes, I catch a glimpse of Landon still watching from his motorcycle.

I'll have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.

A/N- Yay, I updated! I hope you guys are all enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I'm sorry for any mistakes in this chapter, I didn't really get a chance to proof read it.

Thank you to all you guys that reviews, you guys are awesome. Everybody else, please review so that I can shamelessly praise you too!