Call Me Maybe

The Siege


"So basically there's like this really hot guy - well, hot is subjective, 'cause he's totally not my type, but I understand that he would be considered hot in today's society - so anyways, he's hot, and like he's out there mowin' the lawn and the girl is watching him intently like the creepy stalker she is, and then he stops suddenly and I guess he's like really hot or something - hot as in temperature, by the way - so he takes off his shirt and of course it's like in slow motion in the video so he's sloooowly taking off his shirt so that you can see all his manly muscle, which is like wayyy too much muscle if you ask me, but I guess you didn't, so yeah and you also see his tattoo 'cause of course he has to have a tattoo, all badass, lawn-mowing, hot guys have one, and the girl is like intensely fanning herself with her steamy romance novel, you know the ones with like sex scenes in them, and then he looks up and sees her and she quickly ducks away, and then he keeps mowing, and then it cuts to her friends pushing her to wash the car 'cause the hot guy is across the street or something like, fixing his car, so she tries to wash the car seductively which totally does not work, and so she's like laying on the wet, soapy, slippery car, and he looks over and she's like surprised so she falls off and goes unconscious from hitting her head, I guess, but no blood or concussion or anything, she just has this quick delusion of her and him on the cover of one of those steamy romance novels where the people are always in compromising positions and revealing clothes and generally trying to be sexy, and then he's like on top of her, waiting for her to wake up, which she does, and she's making kissy-faces at him 'cause her delusion includes kissing at the end, and then she wakes up, sees him there, and laughs at herself for being so silly, oh what a silly girl, and he laughs too and helps her up and then she changes clothes and sings the rest of the song for him in her garage and he's watching and nodding his head like he isn't listening to total chick pop but it all makes sense when she finishes singing and goes to write down her number for him and then he, as in the hot guy, goes and gives his number to the guitarist in her band, who is a guy. So basically, the hot guy is gay and she's devastated," she finished with a firm nod of her head.

"Holy crap, Charis," her friend said, shaking her head in admiration. "You literally just gave a speech on a music video in one breath. How big are your lungs? Seriously."

"Oh Jazz," Charis sighed. "That's all you have to say? How big are my lungs? No comments on that entire speech I just gave you?"

Jazz shrugged. "Not really. I just don't get why you love that song so much."

"I don't!"

"Then why is it your ringtone?"

"'Cause it's about calling, and when my phone rings, someone is calling me, duh? We've been over this."

"Still doesn't make sense."

"Whatever." Charis rolled her eyes. "So when are you gonna get a hot guy who actually treats you like you're a person?"

"What? Jimmy is nice!" Jazz defended her current boyfriend.

"No," Charis said patiently. "Jimmy is a douchebag. Say it with me now, Jimmy. Is. A. Douche. Bag."

"He is not."

"Uh, yes he is."

"He's better than Brad."

"Jazz, anyone is better than Brad. He fucking tried to hit you. Good thing I taught you karate. If I ever see that bastard again, he will be having a nice little chat with my fists," Charis promised darkly. "I'll even get Stefan to help me beat him up."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "You're delusional if you think you'd ever be able to bring yourself to physically inflict violence on someone on purpose." She smirked but then yelped when Charis dug a pointy finger into her side.

Charis raised her eyebrows. "You were saying?"

"That's only 'cause it's not like real pain," Jazz argued, rubbing the sore spot.

"Whatever. But anyways, you can't compare him to Brad. You should compare him to someone like...like...like Stefan! Yeah! Stefan's nice and would definitely treat his girlfriend better than Jimmy treats you."

"Really."

"Duh. Like, remember that time when Jimmy stood you up because he had to finish a video game? Like, what the hell? Stefan would never do that! You need a guy as nice as Stefan!"

"Speaking of Stefan...Let's talk about you two."

"What's there to talk about?"

"Like, why are you two still not a couple?"

"Jazz, how many times do I need to tell you? We're just friends and we will only be friends."

"But you like him."

"It's just a crush."

"A lot."

"Just a crush!"

"'Cause I've tried and tried to walk away, but I know this crush ain't goin' away!" Jazz sang.

Charis blushed furiously and mumbled, "That was out of tune!"

"You know it wasn't."

"When are you gonna become a trillionaire singer? I want you to become rich and take me places!" Charis whined, going from embarrassed to petulant in the space of a millisecond.

"In time, my naive teddy bear, in time," Jazz intoned wisely before breaking out into giggles.

"Nah, I'll never make it that big! My voice is good, but not that good."

"What are you talking about? You have the best voice I've ever heard!"

Jazz laughed. "Thanks, but flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh, Jazz. I'm no sycophant."

"Ooh, look at that, Chare-bear's using big words." Jazz giggled.

Charis rolled her eyes. "I still think you're too good for Jimmy."

"Why can't you accept any of my boyfriends?"

"Because they all suck. Well, I did accept that one guy, remember?"

Jazz thought for a sec. "You mean Daryl?"

"That's his name." Charis snapped her fingers. "The guy with the dreamy blue eyes, right?"

"Yeah, they were so pretty. He was such a sweet guy too." Jazz smiled wistfully at the wall.

"What happened to him?" Charis asked.

Jazz shrugged. "He moved, tried to keep in touch, found someone better."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me?"

Jazz frowned. "I don't know. I guess I didn't want you to be disappointed that I lost the one guy you thought was okay."

"Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea," Charis said wisely, stroking her imaginary beard.

"Yeah. Like Jimmy," Jazz pointed out.

"I meant real fish, not some stupid little shrimp."

"Hey!" Jazz protested. "Shrimp is delicious!"

"Yeah, delicious to eat," Charis emphasized. "Not to date."

Jazz looked at her best friend strangely. "You need to get out into society more. You know what? Let's go shopping."

"Now?"

"We need to get out and have some fun. Why not now?" Jazz countered.

"Okay."

Three hours later, Jazz and Charis had visited all thirty-six of their favorite stores and tried on nearly everything in each store, yet still left empty-handed.

"Chare-bear?"

"Yeah, Jazz?"

"I wish we weren't broke."

"I know, right?"

The two girls burst into giggles right in the middle of the staircase, oblivious to the pissed off people shoving past around them. They descended the steps almost drunkenly, and Charis began singing in her horrible out-of-tune voice.

"Hey, I just met you," Charis sang to Jazz.

"And this is crazy," Jazz sang back, spinning around.

"But here's my number," they chorused, "so call me, maybe!"

Jazz spun herself into someone's body. She backed away quickly, stumbling over her own feet, and looked up with a smile, ready to apologize.

"Sure," the guy grinned. "What's your number?"

Jazz leaped back in shock. "Daryl?" She squinted at him. "Oh wait, one of your eyes is green."

"Yeah, I'm Leif." The guy smiled charmingly.

Jazz found herself smiling back. "I'm Jazz, short for Jasmine. Are you Daryl's brother, by any chance?"

Leif laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

Jazz laughed too. "How is he? Wow, I can't believe it's been two years."

"Are you one of my brother's many exes?"

"Is it that obvious?" Jazz echoed.

Charis watched this exchange hungrily. She liked this Leif guy better than Jimmy the Lazy Douchebag already.

"So, about that number..." Leif trailed off suggestively.

Jazz bit her lip. "Sorry, I have a boyfriend."

"Oh." Leif's face reddened with an alarming speed. "Well, I'm embarrassed."

"But he's a douchebag, so it's okay," Charis quipped, ignoring Jazz's glare. "Hang out with us!"

With some persuasion on Charis' part, he agreed.

Jazz was apprehensive at first, but as she and Leif talked, she realized what a genuinely nice he was, if a bit flirtatious. He made her laugh uninhibitedly and when he looked at her with his amazing heterochromic eyes, she felt a flutter in her chest, a sensation that she hadn't felt for Jimmy in a long, long time.

After Charis and Jazz waved goodbye to Leif and wandered their way back to Jazz's house, Charis squealed, "You guys would be so cute together! You should've exchanged numbers! He's so much better than Jimmy."

"Charis." Jazz's tone was patient. "I already have a boyfriend."

"If you say so."

"I do! So stop messing with my love life and worry about yours, okay?"

"I don't have one."

"Exactly."

. . .

"Yo, babe," Jimmy drawled. "I need some money."

Jazz stifled an irritated sigh. "For what?"

"I'm going to my buddy's party tomorrow and I'm supposed to bring the beer."

Jazz waited for Jimmy to invite her to go with him. He didn't.

"Are you gonna invite me to go with you, Jimmy?" Jazz asked impatiently.

Jimmy snorted. "Yeah, right! Sorry, but you're not cool enough for these friends."

Jazz's head snapped around to face her boyfriend. And he expected her to give him money? "You know, Jimmy, I don't think this is working anymore."

"What?" Jimmy droned stupidly.

"I'm saying, get out of my house right now. I never wanna see your ugly face again," Jazz

clarified cheerfully.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Jimmy roared, his face a nasty, mottled red. He lunged at her but she simply stepped back and watched as he kissed the ground, hard.

He rolled over and she kneeled over him, pointing in the direction of her door. "Out."

When he was gone, Jazz dialed Charis' number. "Guess what, Chare? Jimmy's gone."

"Hallelujah!"

. . .

It was several weeks before Jazz saw him again. She was walking home from choir practice and decided to stop by her favorite cafe to get some coffee. She stepped out of the shop, humming and sipping her mocha.

"Hey!"

Jazz looked up and smiled. "Leif! Hi! What's up?"

He looked as adorable as ever, and now that Jazz was single, she didn't feel guilty as she stared at his pretty, pretty eyes with his dark hair flopping into them.

"I heard from a friend that this place had some really good coffee so I thought I'd stop by.," he explained. "Lucky for me, you're here too."

Jazz bit her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. You barely know him, she chided herself. Don't get all giggly on him yet. "Well, your friend is right. This place has my favorite coffee."

"Well, since I'm new to this place, why don't you come in and give me some recommendations?" he suggested hopefully.

"Sure!"

Jazz hadn't planned on staying to talk with him after he ordered, but she found herself settling down at a table across from Leif, laughing and talking.

"So," Leif began hesitantly, sipping his coffee. "How's your boyfriend?"

"Hm?" Jazz answered distractedly as she scribbled on a napkin. "Oh, you know, turns out Charis was right. He was an idiot. He tried to ask me for money and then told me I wasn't cool enough for him."

"Suddenly, I'm feeling violent. I kinda wanna go punch this guy," Leif admitted brashly.

Jazz giggled. "Thanks, but it's okay. He's not worth it." She grinned and sang, "I wanna see you out that door, baby, bye bye bye!"

Leif whistled. "You have a great voice."

"Thanks, I know." Jazz laughed. "Just kidding. But Charis tells me that all the time. I'm waiting for the day when I'll be able to agree."

"You don't think so?"

"Well, I think my voice is good," Jazz stated, "but not that good. Not yet, at least. I'm working on it."

"You wanna be a singer?"

"Well, I can hope."

"I support you as long as you promise not to forget about me you're famous," he joked.

Jazz smirked. "Somehow, I don't think you're someone who's easily forgotten." She glanced at the time and gasped. "I should go, actually. But, um, see you around?"

"Yeah, sure."

Jazz waved at him and then she was gone, in a flurry of song and smiles.

Leif smiled and shook his head, finishing off his coffee. As he was about to leave, he noticed the napkin Jazz had been scribbling on earlier. Curious, he slid it in front of him and read it over. Then he stuffed it in his pocket and left the cafe, whistling a happy tune.

Hey, I just met you (kinda)
And this is crazy
But here's my number
So call me, maybe?
XXX-XXX-XXXX
Jazz ;)


A/N: First, a disclaimer - I do NOT own "Call Me Maybe" (Carly Rae Jepsen), "Crush" (David Archuleta), or "Bye Bye Bye" (*NSYNC).

So I know I should be working on "Serendipity" but my muse came for this story and I couldn't refuse it, naturally. But I'll be going back to Clover soon. Probably.

This is just some light fluff. I wanted to write something about Jazz from my first story in my "TeenagerpostsTumblr" series and "Call Me Maybe" has been stuck in my head for forever so...yeah. :D Hopefully this'll get my creative juices flowing out of my fingers for "Serendipity"!

Hope you liked!

Write on. Read on. That's my motto.


© Copyright 2012 by The Siege