Back to Blue
Introduction
I am in an affair with Justin Bieber. If someone had told me a month ago that I would one day say those words & actually mean them, I would have insisted they were on crack. I don’t know why I agreed to this. I have a boyfriend. Who is not in any way, shape, or form Justin. Yes, I’m attracted to Justin. Majorly. But do I actually have legitimate feelings towards him? I have no idea. All I know is I’ve gotten caught up in a situation I never imagined myself to be in, and there’s really no turning back now.
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Chapter 1
I stifled a yawn, trying but failing to appear even remotely interested in what my English teacher was currently droning on about. It was only the third week of school, and I was already counting down the days until summer.
A light cough sounded at the desk next to mine.
Glancing over, I saw my best friend Natasha sitting upright in her seat. She brushed some of her waist-length blonde ringlets out of her eyes casually, before subtly pushing a neatly folded square of paper across the floor with her knee-high-boot-clad toe.
I kept my eyes on my teacher, watching to make sure he didn’t look over at me, as I slowly reached my foot out to the center of the aisle. I felt the note slide under my toe, and I gently pulled it over to me. Pretending that I dropped my pencil, I bent down and retrieved the paper from the floor. I glanced over at Natasha and grinned.
She grinned back.
I slowly unfolded the note, and began reading the neat letters that were printed in soft pencil on it:
Get prepared to puke. Last row, furthest to the right.
Scratching my nose, I let my eyes travel all the way across the classroom to the very back.
Aubrey Woods, your stereotypical head cheerleader (and most popular girl in the school), was sitting there in a blue jean miniskirt and a pink cami. She was giggling obnoxiously, and her hand was resting on her boyfriend’s arm.
He slyly wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned in towards her, whispering something in her ear.
I rolled my eyes, before bending down and scribbling out a response to Natasha’s note:
Gross. Still can’t believe that arrogant asshole is here for the year. Whatever happened to homeschooling? The kid’s rich enough for it.
Natasha grinned as she read what I had written. She quickly replied:
Got that right. Remind me why your cousin is best friends with him again?
That was something I found myself constantly wondering. Why Ryan Butler, my dear cousin, chose to be best friends with douche bags like Justin Bieber and Chaz Somers was beyond me. I’d only met Justin a few times before he went off and got his big break in the music industry over in the United States, and, though I never exactly got to know him, he had never seemed that special to me, regardless of what the world seems to think now. Now that he was famous, though, his ego had inflated tenfold, and his attitude had gotten increasingly worse.
It seemed fitting that he and Chaz would be friends. Chaz, after all, was a huge player - he was full of himself, and made it his priority to sleep with as many girls as possible.
Justin, similarly, walked around like he was king of the universe, and he shared the obsession with girls.
It was perhaps this player-like attitude and ridiculously enormous ego that had attracted Aubrey Woods to him. As the most popular girl in school, Aubrey was, to say the least, very conceited, and rumor had it she had a number of notches on her bedpost so high, one’s grandma would faint just hearing about it. In other words, she was not only the most popular girl in school, she was the school slut.
And so, it came as no surprise to anybody that not even a week into the school year, Justin Bieber, the superstar who had returned to Stratford Secondary School to complete Grade 12 as a normal student, had almost instantly hooked up with Aubrey Woods - and soon after, the two were officially the newest “it” couple.
Let’s just say that Ryan and Chaz, as star hockey players on Stratford Secondary’s team, are two of the most popular guys at school. As their best friend (and world’s most popular teenager), Justin immediately joined the popular crowd the instant he returned to school three weeks ago. Aubrey and her two cheerleader best friends, Elise Iman and Christina Palamara, reign alongside Ryan, Chaz, and Justin, as the most popular girls.
Natasha and me, though related to the popular crowd due to my connection as Ryan’s cousin, have never been popular. It’s not that we’re weird or unpopular, exactly, we’ve just never been popular. With the exception of Ryan, that crowd has never liked us.
Not that we’ve minded.
Natasha despises the notion of popularity with a passion. She feels that the guys in the group are nothing but Neanderthal jocks, and the girls are plastic, superficial sluts.
It wouldn’t be completely irrational to agree with her. Her observations are, for the most part, veritable. The popular crowd at Stratford Secondary are generally a large group of big headed athletes who feel they’re superior to everyone else at the school.
And while going out and getting wasted every weekend and dealing with some form of new drama weekly is their idea of fun, Natasha and I choose to spend our time doing things we’ll actually remember the next day - and hey, we don’t mind living drama-free lives.
I shot Justin and Aubrey another glare, inwardly scowling. I was slightly frustrated that the teacher wasn’t saying anything to them, because their whispering and laughing was getting continuously louder.
God, I hated them.
If it weren’t for the fact that Aubrey was always a total bitch to me, and that Justin was just an ass in general, maybe I’d be impartial towards them.
Maybe.
I still don’t understand why Justin had to come back. He’s this hotshot superstar, known all over the world for his raspy voice, iconic flirting, attraction to cougars, and perfect hair. He made millions, had everything he wanted, and maintained an extremely successful musical career. Sure, the kid was seventeen, and thus hadn’t graduated secondary school yet. But he’d been homeschooled for the past three years. Why would he suddenly decide he wanted to come back to school in Stratford?
‘He just wants to graduate with his friends, and go to school like a normal kid.’
That’s what people were saying.
But it was still annoying.
I’d never actually gone to school with him. I’d never gone to the same school as Ryan (and, subsequently, Justin) until we got to secondary school, and by that time, Justin had gone off to Atlanta in pursuit of his dreams.
I had hoped he would go and never look back.
Well, so much for that.
I don’t really know why, I’ve just never really liked the kid. Every time I’d met him when he was with Ryan, he came across as a douchey, uninterested jerk.
And dealing with him on a daily basis for the past three weeks had only further confirmed that.
The only reassuring fact about the entire situation was that he felt the same way towards me that I felt towards him; we both strongly disliked each other.
It was probably the fact that Natasha and I so openly resented him and the rest of the people in his group of friends (besides Ryan) that made him dislike me. But regardless, I didn’t really care.
A loud clapping noise came from the front of the room, and I jumped, coming slightly out of my reverie.
My teacher, Mr. Reymer, had just clapped his hands together, and his eyes were sweeping the room.
“Guys. Seriously? Wake up.” He called.
I glanced around. The entire class seemed to have been caught in a trance, just like I had.
“You’re all gonna wanna pay attention to this.” Mr. Reymer said sternly. “I’m gonna take this time to present your first major project of the term.”
A resounding groan sounded throughout the room.
Everyone was now wide awake due to this unfortunate bit of news.
Mr. Reymer smiled grimly at us. “Sorry, guys. I know you’re all the big shots at school now, being Grade 12s, and I know this is your last year, and you were hoping for a break, but you still gotta work hard and prepare yourselves for university next year. This is an advanced class, so you guys are going to have to still apply yourselves.
“Now, the project I am about to assign you will be the biggest project you’ll have all term. In fact, it will account for fifteen percent of your final grade.”
Everyone groaned again.
“That’s right.” Mr. Reymer said, smiling in a seemingly pleased fashion. “This is a big deal. It will be an intensive research project on specific pieces of literature and their roles in Canadian, American, and international cultures and societies. The project itself will be a PowerPoint presentation involving additional visual aids that will be due at the very end of the semester.
“I will be assigning you partners. We will be working on the project in class at certain times throughout the term, but it is expected and required for you and your partner to meet outside of school to work on it as well. Specific evaluations will be sent out to ensure that both partners are doing equal amounts of work.
“At the end of the term, you and your partner will give a ten-minute presentation to the class about your assigned topic, and I will grade accordingly.”
I exchanged thoroughly irritated glances with Natasha. Was this guy serious? This project sounded huge, and not in the least bit interesting.
I guess all I could hope for was that I got paired up with Natasha. As the only friend of mine in the class, she was the only person I could guarantee would work well with me.
And since I had hopes to get into McGill University, one of the most prestigious universities in Canada, I needed to ensure I got the best marks possible on this project.
“Today, I will be assigning you partners, as well as distributing rubrics for the project.” Mr. Reymer was saying.
Exhaling, I straightened up in my seat, holding my pencil in front of me with one hand, and nervously crossing my fingers with the other.
“I know it’s been three weeks, but I still don’t really know all of you too well yet. Therefore, I wasn’t able to partner you with people who I knew you’d work well with. Thus, all of the partner assignments are random.
“However, though they are random, they are also permanent. There is absolutely no way to change your partner, regardless of whether or not they’re your mortal enemy. In life, you’re not always gonna get to choose who you work with, and many times, you’ll be faced with situations where you’re forced to learn how to deal with people you don’t necessarily get along with. So this could very well serve as a good life lesson to you all. However, bottom line is: the person I say is your partner is your partner. No exceptions.”
Mr. Reymer cleared his throat, retrieving a paper off of his desk, while Natasha and I exchanged nervous glances.
He straightened the paper in front of him, and peered closely at it, before he began speaking again:
“Alright, here’s who you will be partnered with for this project. Remember that working on the project outside of class is required, and you’ll need to work out independently when you and your partner will get together. Like I said before, I will be checking to make sure you’re working together, and that each person is doing the same amount of work.”
He cleared his throat again.
“Okay, first group: Michaela Andrews with Nolan Ryan.”
There was a pause while Michaela and Nolan glanced at each other, giving each other the thumbs up. They were good friends.
“Trey Bennett and Kendra Chrysler.”
I let my eyes flicker around the room. Natasha was perched on the edge of her seat, chewing her nails in a nervous frenzy.
Aubrey was clutching Justin’s hand in the back of the room, whispering fervently into his ear.
He whispered something back that was evidently suggestive, for a sly grin spread on her face, and she playfully smacked him on the arm.
A huge smirk formed on his face.
I rolled my eyes again. Gag me with a spoon.
“Natasha Litzy with Greg Loyle.”
Natasha scrunched her nose up in slight disappointment. Greg was a new kid at school, and so nobody knew much about him yet. Natasha wasn’t exactly disappointed that she was paired up with him in particular, just that she wasn’t partnered with me. That much was evident by the way she glanced at me; she was biting her lip, and her shoulders were slumped.
I felt a wave of disappointment wash over myself when the realization that I wouldn’t be working on the project with my best friend (and only friend in the class) came over me.
I shot Natasha a sympathetic look as butterflies swarmed inside my stomach.
I was extremely nervous now.
“Kate Nabby with Reece Redmond.” Mr. Reymer continued, droning on as his eyes slid down the light blue piece of paper that was stretched between his hands.
He continued down the list, naming off pairs of my classmates as I sat anxiously in my seat, trying not to let the nervous freakout that was occurring inside of my stomach show on my face.
I glanced around the room, trying to pick out and determine which people were still left that might be my partner.
There were still two people in particular who hadn’t been called out yet that I most definitely didn’t want.
Finally, I heard Mr. Reymer announce my name.
“Selena Gomez-”
My eyes immediately snapped up to look at him; my hands were entwined in my lap, and I could feel my heart beating quicker than it should.
I was trying to calm down; it honestly shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
But call me a nerd all you want, good marks were important to me. I needed them if I wanted to maintain hope at getting into McGill. So it was essential that I did well on this project.
And unfortunately, who I got as my partner could make or break how the project turned out.
In other words, they were extremely important.
Mr. Reymer furrowed his eyebrows at the page in front of him, pausing for a moment. He seemed as if he had lost his place on the page.
After a few moments of tense silence, he appeared to find the spot, and he cleared his throat, before announcing, “-and Justin Bieber.”
I felt myself instantly freeze in shock.
...What?
I closed my eyes slowly, willing beyond belief for this all to be a nothing more than a very, very bad dream.
After a few moments of silence, I opened my eyes, slowly turning to look back at the far right corner of the room.
Aubrey was shooting daggers at me. Justin was sitting there staring at Mr. Reymer with a set jaw, clearly pissed.
His eyes met mine, and we both groaned.
Appearing not to have noticed this, Mr. Reymer went on with the list, announcing the next set of partners.
I gave Natasha a pointed look, as if to say, ‘Good baby Jesus, kill me now.’
Of all the people in the room, Justin and Aubrey were probably the two I least wanted to be partnered with. And, just like I should have suspected, my wonderful wealth of luck allowed me to be paired with one of them.
Note my sarcasm.
Mr. Reymer cleared his throat. He had evidently finished calling out all of the pairs of partners.
“Alright, now that partners have been announced, I would like everyone to come up here and collect your paper that describes the project itself, and which lists what topic you have been assigned.”
Natasha and I shot meaningful looks at each other, before we grudgingly stood up with the rest of the people in our class.
Everyone slowly began meandering towards the front of the classroom, stopping in front of Mr. Reymer and waiting for him to distribute their specific project rubric.
Aubrey was groveling, muttering angrily to Justin, who still looked extremely pissed, as the two walked up the aisle to the front of the room.
Justin and I looked at each other at the same time, shooting each other looks of pure loathing, before we quickly looked away.
When Mr. Reymer had finally retrieved my particular sheet of paper, I hurried back to my seat as quickly as possible, falling into it the instant I got to it.
I let my eyes drift over the blue sheet of paper, reading over some of the project guidelines and boring details, before I came to the very bottom of the page. A single book title was hastily written in red ink under the heading, “Your Topic Is...” The title had been circled to further emphasize it.
Romeo and Juliet
I let out a groan, slumping back in my seat.
I honestly couldn’t remember having worse luck.
Spending an entire term working on a Romeo and Juliet project worth 15% of my overall grade with Justin Bieber, one of the most popular guys in the school, not to mention a world-famous pop singer who I strongly despised and who strongly despised me?
Yeah. This was sure to be a great semester.
Not.
Chapter 2
“I don’t think I could have gotten a worse partner for Reymer’s lit project.” I grumbled in annoyance, sliding my lunch tray onto the table and plopping down across from Natasha.
She gave me a sympathetic look, scrunching her nose up slightly. “Yeah, I know.” She stated. “I’m sorry, that totally sucks.”
“Like, honestly? That class has about thirty people in it, and of course I get the one person I didn’t want to be with.” I muttered, shaking my head. “It’s just my luck.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get much greater of a partner. I don’t know Greg that well, but he seems kind of...weird.” Natasha stated.
“Still. He’s better than Justin.” I groveled.
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What book did you get for the project?” I questioned, looking at Natasha wonderingly and taking a bite of my sandwich.
She gave me a look of sullen annoyance. “1984.”
“Ooh.” I commented, wincing. “Ouch.”
“Yep.” She replied, popping the ‘p’. “How about you?”
“Romeo and Juliet.” I stated, scowling.
Natasha perked up in her seat. “I love that play!”
“I don’t.” I replied. “It’s probably my least favorite Shakespeare piece ever. It’s just so unrealistic, I mean people don’t fall in love within a matter of days enough to the point where they’d kill themselves for each other, that just doesn’t make sense whatsoever. And then the whole fact that their families -”
“Yeah, yeah, I know you hate that play.” Natasha interrupted, smiling at me knowingly. “I don’t need to hear the whole spiel, you’ve ranted to me about it about fifty times before.”
“Sorry.” I said.
She laughed. “Well, if we could, I would totally switch topics with you. I’d take Romeo and Juliet over 1984 any day.”
I shrugged, letting out a slight sigh. “Yeah, wish we could switch, but Reymer would be pissed.”
Natasha nodded. “Unfortunately.”
“Have you talked to Greg yet about when you and he are gonna get together?” I wondered.
After assigning partners, Mr. Reymer had proceeded to explain the basics of the project and state that partners were to begin meeting as soon as possible to establish an introductory approach to their project; he was going to be inquiring about the meeting in about a week, so he made it clear that parters were to get together sometime between now and then.
Natasha shook her head. “No, I haven’t.” She stated. “Not yet. How about you? Talked to Justin yet?”
“I’m putting that off as long as possible.” I replied.
Natasha laughed.
“Seriously. This is going to suck so much. We both hate each other.” I stated. “I don’t know when I’m gonna talk to him.”
Natasha cleared her throat slightly. “Well...” She began awkwardly. “Now might be your chance.”
I gave her a confused glance, furrowing my eyebrows at her questioningly.
Her eyes flickered to something over my shoulder, but before I had a chance to turn around and see what it was, I found myself staring at dark blue t-shirt that outlined toned abs. My eyes slowly traveled up the body until I was staring straight into the face of Justin Bieber himself.
I inwardly groaned.
He didn’t exactly look pleased to be standing there.
“Okay Gomez, let’s get this shit over with.” He muttered irritably.
I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms and glaring at him.
There was a moment of silence.
“Our project.” Justin stated, looking at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I knew what you were talking about.” I replied coolly.
Justin merely looked annoyed. “Okay.” He stated grudgingly.
I let out an irritated sigh. “When do you wanna meet up?”
He shrugged. “It has to be between now and Monday.”
“I know that.” I said grudgingly.
He scowled. “I’m just stating the obvious.”
“Clearly.” I muttered under my breath. I looked up at him, pausing for a moment. “Seriously, when do you want to get together?”
Justin looked taken aback. “‘Get together?’” He asked in mock surprise. A suggestive sneer came on his face. “Wow, Gomez, who knew you could be so forward? If I’d’ve known that’s what this project was gonna be about, maybe I wouldn’t have been so pissed off about it.”
I glared daggers at him, seriously tempted to lunge forward and strangle him.
What a pervert. Honestly.
“You know what I meant.” I replied flatly, a hint of exasperation in my voice.
He smirked at me, his expression becoming even more suggestive. “Sure.” He stated.
“Shut up, Bieber.” I snapped.
He let out a snort.
I rolled my eyes.
Natasha cleared her throat quietly, and both Justin and I turned to glare at her. She seemed to shrink back into her chair.
“Sorry.” She muttered.
I shook my head slightly and turned back to face Justin, who now had a set jaw and looked thoroughly annoyed.
He turned to look back at me, and his expression clearly spelled hatred.
“Tomorrow after school. My house.” He spat bitterly. “That gonna work for you, Princess?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine.” I replied.
He smirked. “Good.”
“Where the hell is your house, anyway?” I shot.
Justin rolled his eyes before he snatched my napkin off of the table, grabbed one of Natasha’s pens, and scribbled an address on it, before he thrust it at me. The napkin fluttered through the air for a moment before I grudgingly reached out and grabbed it, my eyes never leaving his. I was positively glowering at him, and he was glaring right back.
“There.” He stated. “Now you know.”
I gave him a fake smile. “Lovely.” I replied in a falsely sweet tone.
“See you tomorrow, Gomez.” Justin said, straightening up.
“Not looking forward to it.” I replied.
“The feeling’s mutual.” He called over his shoulder as he turned to leave.
At that moment, he ran into Aubrey, who was passing by to head towards the table where she, her cheerleader cronies, and all of Justin’s douchebag friends sat.
“Why were you just talking to her?” Aubrey hissed, glaring at me.
Justin muttered something to her, shaking his head irritably, before he snaked his arm around her waist and led her down the cafeteria towards their table.
I just rolled my eyes.
“Tash, I don’t wanna do this.” I whined into the phone, standing on the sidewalk and staring up at a large brown house with annoyance. I glanced down to double-check the napkin Justin had written on yesterday, where his pitifully terrible handwriting displayed the address of his house. The address matched this one, and I was supposed to be walking inside right about now to get started on our project.
“I know, Selena. It sucks. It does. But...you have to do it.” Natasha replied, her voice muffled slightly.
I scowled loudly. “This is stupid!” I exclaimed.
“The sooner you get in there and begin work on the project, the sooner you can get out of there.” Natasha stated.
I sighed.
She had a point.
“Fine.” I groaned.
“Text me when you’re done, maybe we can get Starbucks.” Natasha suggested.
“Kay.” I grumbled.
“Good luck!” Natasha sang.
“Bye.” I replied miserably. I snapped the phone shut, before I turned to glare at the house in front of me. I groaned.
After a few moments of basking in misery, I began dragging my feet towards the front door, adjusting the backpack I was carrying and trying to remain as optimistic as possible.
I failed.
It only got worse when I reached the front door and it opened before I was even able to knock. I was greeted with the sight of two scantily-clad girls, adjusting their mini-dresses and fixing their hair. One girl even swiftly fixed her bra strap, tucking it underneath the sleeve of her dress.
They turned and giggled at someone behind them, blowing kisses and shooting seductive looks as they stepped outside of the house.
Justin appeared at the doorway, smirking at them suggestively. “I had fun today, ladies. Feel free to come back anytime.”
One of the girls giggled loudly. “Bye Justin.” She called, winking at him.
Justin was totally checking out both girls’ asses as they strutted away, passing by me without even looking at me.
I was disgusted.
He is such a man-whore.
Justin seemed to notice I was there at that moment, and his eyes snapped onto me.
“Good to see you showed up, Gomez.” He shot me a cheeky grin.
I merely scowled.
“You’re gross, Bieber.” I replied.
He snorted. “Those two didn’t seem to think so.” He nodded at the retreating figures of the two sluts who had obviously just been entertaining him.
I sneered at him. “Regardless, you’re a pig.” I replied. “You have a girlfriend.”
He shrugged. “It’s not like she isn’t doing the same thing.” He replied. “Plus,” He smirked. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.” I muttered.
“Gladly.” He replied. He stepped back and motioned for me to enter the house first.
Grudgingly, I did.
He closed the door behind me, and I was left to gaze in wonder around the cavernous entrance room I had just entered. A large double staircase faced me, and a large chandelier donned the ceiling. Classy furniture that matched the beige walls was placed strategically throughout.
At that moment, I heard a door to our left open, and someone entered the grand entrance.
I glanced over. A short woman with brown hair who looked to be in her thirties had just walked in, a somewhat curious expression on her face.
She immediately caught sight of me, and her expression instantaneously changed to one of slight exasperation.
“Justin...again?” She asked, turning to look pointedly at Justin. She was clearly somewhat annoyed.
“No, Mom.” Justin replied irritably. “She’s just here to work on a project with me for school.”
The woman who was evidently his mother didn’t seem to believe him, nor did she look impressed, but she merely shook her head slightly.
“Dinner’s at six, Justin. Frank’s coming over, so...” She gave him a pointed look, as if to say, ‘She’d better be gone by then.’
Justin nodded, clearly annoyed. “Got it.” He replied. His jaw was set, and he looked kind of pissed.
I didn’t know who this Frank person was, but I will admit, I was slightly curious about him. Why did Justin look so annoyed when his mom mentioned him?
“Please, just...” His mother let out a sigh, shaking her head again, as if changing her mind about what she was going to say. She began rubbing her forehead, turned, and walked away.
Justin rolled his eyes.
I couldn’t help but feel slightly awkward.
At that moment, Justin turned to look at me. “Come on, we can go start the project in my room.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not gonna try anything.” Justin spat irritably. “Believe me, you’re the last person I’d want to do anything with.”
I glared at him.
What an ass.
He scowled. “Come on.” He muttered, walking past me towards the stairs and leading me up to the second floor. I followed him down a vast and lengthy hallway to a door near the very end.
Justin opened it and walked inside, motioning for me to do the same.
It was a large, spacious room containing a bed (currently unmade - gross), several chairs, a large flatscreen TV, an Xbox, and a number of instruments. A sound system and recording equipment was in the very back of the room. A chair was pulled out from a desk that was near the system, as if Justin had been sitting there writing a song, and gotten up to get a soda or something.
I was truthfully somewhat surprised. I didn’t know that Justin had all of this in his room. I supposed I should have realized it, considering he is a singer and all that, but...still. It caught me a little off guard.
Justin slumped into a squashy armchair that was facing his Xbox and TV. “Alright, so, let’s make this as quick as we can.” He opened his backpack and began rummaging through it, searching for all of his things for Reymer’s class.
I nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave.
I walked forward to take a seat on a chair next to him, but I was distracted by a sheet of loose-leaf paper that was lying on the floor. I had just stepped on it by accident, and I bent down to pick it up, thinking that I might have dropped it out of my backpack.
I soon realized it had nothing to do with school, and it was certainly not mine.
On the top of the page in Justin’s handwriting were the words, “Down to Earth.”
Beneath this, a whole set of what appeared to be lyrics were listed. There were many crossings-out and blotches of ink where Justin had evidently scratched things out.
‘This is a song Justin wrote...’ I realized.
I couldn’t help myself. My eyes traveled down the length of the paper, reading a few of the lyrics:
I never thought that it’d be easy,
Cause we’re both so distant now.
And the walls are closing in on us,
And we’re wondering how.
No one has a solid answer,
We’re just walking in the dark,
But you can see the look on my face,
It just tears me apart.
So we fight, through the hurt,
And we-
“What are you doing?” Justin asked sharply.
My eyes jerked away from the paper to glance up at him in alarm. I instantly felt myself go red.
“Sorry.” I muttered right as Justin stood up.
He marched over to me and snatched the paper out of my hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, touching stuff that’s in my room?” He shot. He was clearly angry, but I could sense something else in his eyes - embarrassment? Alarm?
“I’m sorry.” I replied. “I stepped on it, and I thought it was mine. I wasn’t trying to read your shit.” I glared at him.
He glared back.
There was a long moment of silence.
“It’s really good.” I admitted after a moment, staring straight into his eyes. “What you have written, I mean.” I casually pointed to the crinkled sheet of paper he was now holding in his hands.
“Thanks.” He mumbled grudgingly.
“What’s it about?” I asked curiously.
“Nothing.” He replied. “It’s just some stupid song.” He crumpled up the sheet of paper and threw it into the trash can, turning his back on me. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
I merely stared at his back.
“We need to get working on this.” He stated, falling back into the armchair. His voice was slightly impatient now.
I nodded, and walked forward, sitting down on a chair next to him.
“I have no fucking clue where to begin, I’ve never even read Romeo and Juliet.” Justin muttered, staring at the project guidelines sheet with clear annoyance etched all over his face.
I let out an irritated sigh. “Well, that might be useful.” I shot, sarcasm dripping from my words.
He gave me a look, before staring back down at the outline in his hands. “So I’m assuming that means you’ve read it.”
“Yes.” I replied. I paused for a moment, trying to be patient. “It’s a love story, about these two people from families that hate each other -”
“I know what it’s about!” Justin shot irritably. “God, I’m not a dumbass.”
“Sorry.” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.
He was seriously so rude, and he’d gotten worse since he’d seen me reading his stupid song.
If he didn’t want people to read lyrics he’d written, he shouldn’t leave them lying around on the floor of his bedroom where I’m sure quite a number of girls spend time in on a daily basis. Plus, if he’s planning on recording this song and releasing it, the entire world’s going to hear them (including, unfortunately, me, though I assure you, it’ll most likely be against my will), so why would it matter if I read them now? Furthermore, it’s not like I made fun of the lyrics. In fact, I actually complimented them. He doesn’t need to be so damn sensitive.
I shook my head irritably right as Justin shot me an annoyed look.
“Can we just get this over with?” He and I muttered under our breaths at the exact same time.
We glared at each other before he grudgingly turned back to peer at the outline he was holding, and I sifted angrily through my backpack in search of my copy of the book.
But though physically, I was searching for materials related to our project, emotionally, I was elsewhere. My brain was immersed with a number of thoughts.
I just couldn’t seem to get that song out of my head.
I couldn’t believe I’d admitted it to him (much less to myself), but the lyrics that I’d been able to read had been good.
I just wondered what they were about.
Obviously they had to mean something to Justin for him to get so upset about me reading them.
But what was that, exactly?
I bit my lip, feeling myself shift to a slightly contemplative tone.
Maybe there were some things about Justin that nobody knew; things that obviously affected him somehow.
But what were they?
...And why did I suddenly care?