A/N: Thanks so freaking much for all of your thoughtful reviews! They made me smile like an idiot.
Hope you guys enjoy this one :)
Based on the song "The Mistake" by AM Taxi.
"Can you drive me home?" Blake's familiar raspy voice said.
I blinked several times, my vision adjusting to the faint lighting from my lamp. I never slept with the light off.
I adjusted the phone on my ear.
Unbelievable. That's the first damn he asks for. At 1:30 in the morning, to boot.
This is probably the fourth time in a row that he's called me in the middle of the night to take him home from God knows where. I hated it.
But when you're Blake's best friend, you do what you got to do right?
"Katy? Are you driving me home?" Blake asked again when I didn't answer him.
I sighed, no longer sleepy and groggy. I stared at my ceiling fan, glowering and irritated.
He heard me and pleaded quietly, "Please, Katy."
"Yeah, I'm coming," I said just as quietly. I sat up on my bed, grabbing the hoodie from the floor and pulling it on.
"Where are you?"
I found Blake waiting outside of a still ongoing party, smoking. He was wearing his favorite grey sweater, with the hood pulled over his head, concealing his shaggy honey-colored hair. I saw his snakebites twinkle from the lights of my car. When he saw my car coming, his expression didn't change. It remained passive, as always.
He opened the passenger door and stepped in.
"Thanks, Katy," his rough voice said.
I shot him a pointed look, nodding at his cigarette.
He rolled his eyes.
"Right," he said. He took one last drag before grinding it with his Converse clad foot.
I sighed again after he closed the door. He reclined the seat back and relaxed. I rolled my eyes and started the car. I tucked my short, brown hair behind my ear and looked behind me to see any car coming my way. When there wasn't, I began pulling away.
It took me a good 45 minutes to find this party. So if I'm lucky, I could drive him to his house in 20 minutes.
"No drinking, tonight?" I asked, realizing that he was completely sober.
He chuckled. "Why? Do I always drink?"
I raised my eyebrow at him. "Yeah, you kinda do." I never forgot that tragic night when he puked all over my windshield when I tried carrying him into my car.
He started laughing suddenly.
"Are you high then?" I asked.
Laughing still, he shook his head. His green eyes started twinkling, reflecting the lights from the street lights.
"Nope," he replied, grinning proudly.
I glanced at him, and sure enough, his eyes were not droopy and tired and bloodshot. Tonight's probably a miracle.
"It's a miracle, I know," Blake said suddenly, voicing my thoughts, reading my mind. That was one feature of his that I absolutely loved and hated at the same time.
"Good night?" I asked.
"I guess you could say that."
And it was the end of that conversation. Blake never really liked to get into details about meaningless subjects, and neither did I. One reason why we just clicked together.
One reason why I fell hard for him.
10 minutes into the drive, I heard him snore softly. I glanced at him, and sure enough, his eyes were closed, and he was slumbering peacefully. His hood was still up and over his head, so he looked like an innocent child, someone who didn't drink and party and smoked and slept with random girls. I sincerely wished he didn't do any of those things. I wish things were the way they were before we entered high school together.
We were two, inseparable peas in a pod. We did everything together; from track, basketball, homework, sleepovers…the good stuff. But when I was sick one day, Blake hung out with a certain group of kids because he had nothing else to do. And they introduced him to the world of alcohol, drugs, and sex. He acted differently since then.
His change did nothing to affect the way I felt and still feel about him.
I don't know when these "feelings" started. I guess they just evolved, like humans evolving from ugly ass apes and like Pikachu transforming into the fatter, not so cute, orange Pokémon.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. I slowed down when we approached a red light. I took this opportunity to stare at him. He had a strand of honey-colored hair over his eyes. Without thinking, I reached over and gently moved it aside with my fingertips. Electricity traveled through fingers when they came in direct contact with his warm skin. Blake shifted in his sleep, moving his head slightly. I removed my hand.
I started driving again, just staring blankly into the road and listening to Blake's rhythmic breathing.
"Blake?" I nearly whispered.
He didn't stir.
A flash of memories flooded my mind.
"Do you remember that time when you put a turtle next to my pillow while I was sleeping? And I woke up screaming because it started crawling all over my head?" I chuckled at the memory. "It's your fault I have this phobia with turtles, you know.
"And do you remember that when we got ice cream in 7th grade after school one day? I was eating my ice cream cone too fast, and the scoop of ice cream just fell off of my cone.
"You noticed that I was upset, so you purposely knocked your ice cream off your cone too."
I swallowed, suddenly feeling emotional.
"I remembered that you nudged me with your elbow and smiled at me. And then we ate our ice cream less cones.
"I decided that maybe you meant something more than a friend since that day. And you know what? I was right.
"There was that Valentine's Day dance in 8th grade. I waited and waited for Ethan Parks to ask me to go with him, but he never did. I was devastated!"
I chuckled, remembering my foolish girly behavior from years ago.
"So you asked me to go with you," I said quietly. "Even though you hated dances more than you hated gummy bears. You just went because I really wanted to go. You just went because you didn't want to hear and see me crying anymore. I'm so selfish.
"The dance itself wasn't even all that great but spending it with you was one of the best nights of my life. Spending any time with you are the best, period."
I made a turn to the right.
Licking my lips, I said, "I guess you could say that I developed a little 'crush' on my best friend. Cliché, right?"
I laughed quietly. "I started noticing the small things about you. Like how your eyes seem to glaze over whenever I talk about licorice. Or how you drink the broth before you eat ramen noodles. You're such a weirdo, Blake."
"I loved every single moment I freaking spent with you. I lived for those days, you know? Until high school. You started hanging out with…those people."
I snorted in disgust.
"God, Blake! I was absent for two days. Two! It just took two goddamn days for you to change. You didn't even come by to make sure if I was okay after school. I was upset, Blake. You never forget about anything.
"But I guess you were too high to remember anything huh?" I said bitterly.
"You started distancing yourself after I came back to school. You ditched me during lunch for a quick smoke in some dick's car. You hitched a ride from a 'friend' instead of walking home with me. You no longer came over to help me make egg drop soup. You no longer called me late at night when you couldn't sleep.
"I don't know if you know this, but you hurt me Blake. The shit that you do, the drugs and the alcohol, it hurts me, because it's hurting you. Those stuff screw you up bad, you know that?
"You hurt me even more when you started sleeping with girls. I think that's what hurt me most."
A tear trickled down my already wet cheeks. I hadn't realized that I started crying.
"Am I stupid for still falling for you anyway, Blake?"
I shook my head, and hastily wiped my eyes with my arm.
"God, I love you, Blake. So goddamn much that I hate myself for it because it made me weak. You make me weak. Just staring at you screws my head up, and I can't think straight. Just hearing your voice…your voice makes me want to do anything you want to do. You drive me so damn crazy!
"The sad part is that you don't know. You don't know how I feel about you. You just carry on your life as if I don't exist.
"You don't even look at me in the halls anymore, you know that? The only time when I'm useful to you is when I'm picking you up when you're drunk and passed out."
I turned on his street and parked the car by his mailbox.
"Looky here," I said quietly. "We're here."
I unbuckled my seatbelt. "Let's get you safe and sound in your bed, yeah?"
I made my way to the passenger door. I unbuckled his seatbelt, which caused me to lean in very close to him. I could smell the faints scents of beer, smoke, and his favorite cologne.
I shook him gently. "Blake? Come on, wake up," I coaxed quietly.
I shook him for a minute longer before he finally regained consciousness.
"Hmm?" he groaned groggily.
"You're home. Come on."
He nodded tiredly and stretched a little. He made no effort to move, so he just sat there.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I offered him my hand, and he happily took it. I pulled him up, closed the door, and put his arm around my shoulder to allow most of his weight to rest on me. We walked slowly to his doorstep. I reached into the pockets of his jacket for his house keys. When they weren't there, I check his back pockets. Again, I had to lean into his face rather closely.
I was getting uncomfortable with the way he was breathing on my face, all short and ragged. I was getting uncomfortable because it was kind of turning me on.
I felt around in his back pockets for quite a while which made the situation kind of awkward.
"You shouldn't love me, Katy."
I stiffened, my hand still stuck in his back pocket. I swallowed, ignored him, and continued to look for his goddamn house keys.
"I'm just a fucked up guy with no future. You deserve someone better, Katy."
I continued to ignore him. I gave up on his back pockets and rechecked his hoodie.
"All I ever do is fucking hurt you. Do you want that, Katy? To be hurt every single day?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered.
He grabbed my searching hands and laced my fingers with his. This simple touch caused my heart to leap.
He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. His lips were so close to my own.
"Katy," he whispered before he closed the distance between us.
His lips were everything I ever imagined them to be: soft yet chapped, gentle yet rough. And warm. God, he was so warm.
I stood on my tip-toes, deepening the kiss. He untangled our fingers and held my face in his hands. My arms were wrapped around his neck so tightly; I could've been strangling him. I gasped when he started nibbling on my bottom lip; he took this chance to enter my mouth with his tongue. At that moment, I melted.
My knees buckled beneath me. Blake's arms acted quickly and held me in place around my waist. His lips remained on mine for a second longer before he pulled away, breathless. Just like I was.
"Blake," I breathed.
"I'm sorry, Katy," he cried out suddenly, pushing himself away from me. His face, his eyes…they appeared regretful.
Kissing me was a mistake?
I immediately frowned.
The regret disappeared. Now he just looked so sad. Like we're not going to see each other anymore.
"You shouldn't love me, Katy," he repeated.
I stared at him.
"You're beautiful and talented and so freaking selfless. It's a crime for someone like me to even look at you, because I'm nothing like that. You're practically the female Jesus."
I continued staring at him with perplexed eyes.
"You're always there for other people, for me, especially during times when you don't want to be. Like tonight. You didn't want to pick me up at 3 in the morning, did you?"
I might as well be honest.
I nodded to his question.
"If I was in your place, I wouldn't have picked up the phone. That just tells you what kind of a person I am. Lazy, incompetent…the works.
"I'm nothing compared to you, Katy. How could you love someone who can't even take care of himself? Someone's who selfish, ugly, and stupid?"
He started nibbling on one of his snakebites nervously, like he's said too much.
"I'm a mistake," he continued. "You deserve someone better."
I smiled suddenly.
"Are you saying you love me too?"
He immediately stiffened. And then he narrowed his eyes at me.
"I implied no such thing," he hissed. His raspy voice sent shivers down my spine.
I smiled wider.
"But you did," I said. "You could've just played it cool and pretend that you were asleep while I was searching for your house keys. You could've not had said anything and…" I trailed off. "…you could've not kissed me."
It was his turn to stare at me.
"If you didn't care, you wouldn't have spoken up about my late-night confession," I said quietly. "Am I right?"
I could barely make out the green in his mysterious eyes. His irritatingly passive face just stared at me. I felt like pinching his cheeks to morph some sort of expression onto his face.
When he didn't answer, I sighed.
"Everything you've said after yourself…you're wrong.
"How are you selfish when you're willing to give yourself up so that I could find someone better? How are you stupid when you scored 10% higher than I did in algebra back in 8th grade? How are you ugly, Blake? You've got three quarters of the female population pining after you at school, and the elderly lady next door is in love with you because you mow her lawn and take care of her flowers.
"You're perfect, Blake. To me, you are perfect. And that's all that matters."
I stared into his eyes, searching for anything that might be a response to my little speech. I found nothing. He didn't say anything either.
I sighed, looking away.
"I think I might have a spare key in my car," I mumbled quietly.
I made a move to walk around him. When I was right beside him, he grabbed my shoulders, turned me to face him, and kissed me hard.
If I thought I was melting before, I was on fire now.
His hands moved to grip my waist, pulling me closer to him.
My tongue darted to taste his snakebites. He groaned. I smirked at this.
He kissed me again before pulling away, his lips still veryf close to mine.
"You're signing yourself up for disappointment, Katy," he breathed against my bruised lips.
I smirked again and pecked him quickly on the lips.
"I knew it. You do love me."