It's Only a Lie If It Gets Bought

"I want someone provocative and talkative
But it's so hard when you're shallow as a shower
And from what I've heard with skin you'll win…"

I sang softly as I made myself a coffee. I hadn't talked to Pete since our fight four days ago. And boy had I felt better since. I'd gotten all my anger out. I felt clean, fresh and happier than I'd been in a long time.

At least that's what I'd convinced myself to think.

I grabbed the coffee and my cigarettes and headed back out to the merch tables. I caught Cam and waved at her, sliding a cigarette between my lips.

I sat on a chair and watched her fold hoodies and tees. She finished the last one and turned to me. "Have you said anything to him?"

I shook my head and exhaled. "No-pe."

"And you don't care that he's ripping his hair out because you won't give him the time of day?"

I took another drag. "You weren't there when he yelled at me. He made it perfectly clear that we'd been friends too long, he'd changed and clearly I didn't deserve to be in his life anymore."

She crossed her arms. "You got all that from a pre-show rant?"

I stood up and set down the coffee mug. "Pre-show rant? No no no no. You don't seem to understand, Cameron, dearest. Your brother, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, the 5-foot-7-and-a-half-inch tall bassist with his penis plastered on more blogs than there are stars and with more hoodies than there are countries, hates my foul, slimy guts." I grinned. "And I couldn't be happier."

"You've lost your mind," she muttered. "You love Pete. You and I both know it. Fuck, Andy, Patrick and Joe figured it out before you told me."

"Yeah, because they're like that," I said, tossing the cigarette butt into the trash can. I watched as the papers inside the metal can caught fire. Cameron looked at me and rolled her eyes.

"You better put that shit out."

"Yeah, yeah, hold on a second." I grabbed the coffee mug and dumped its contents into the can. A sizzle escaped it and I handed her the mug. "I'm going for a walk."

She stood there, baffled and pissed beyond belief. "YOU BETTER GET OFF YOUR FUCKING HIGH HORSE BEFORE YOU ENTER THAT BUS AGAIN! AND QUIT THAT DISGUSTING HABIT! YOU'LL KILL YOURSELF!"

I ignored her rants and headed down the road. I gave up walking and eyed a green patch beneath a tree. I peered into my box. I'd only lit up twice since I'd bought the pack. I had some smoking to catch up on.

I sat there for the better part of 40 minutes before I heard someone approach me. I looked up, a pair of blue eyes staring down at me. My mouth hung open slightly, the cigarette tilting downwards.

"Can I bum a fag?"

I smirked and picked up a cigarette between my index and middle finger, pointing it towards him. "Try saying that in a gay village."

He grinned and sat down beside me. I lit the lighter and he leaned in, taking a long drag.

"Thanks. You have no idea how badly I needed that."

I smiled. "Oh I can believe it." I pondered for a moment. "You have a hot accent." He grinned. "Aussie?"

"You bet."

"But you used English terms for a smoke. What's with that?"

"I lived in England for ten years. You pick up stuff."

I chuckled. "Pretty sweet shit."

"Definitely."

I extended my hand. "Parker-Lynn. Parker-Lynn Rachel Broussard. But you can call me Parker."

He shook it. "Jared. Jared Mackenzie. Call me Jay."

I smiled flirtatiously. "If you insist."

"For a beauty like you, it'd be an honour to hear it from your lips."

I chuckled. "Oh, you're quite a charmer with your big blue eyes and luscious dark locks." I lit up another cigarette. "Lucky girl."

He exhaled. "Who?"

"Your girlfriend. Let me guess? Blonde, no. Wait, maybe brunette. Tall, slender, tanned, pretty smile, blue eyes. Maybe brown. Most guys seem to like dark eyes."

"Maybe so. But I'm not most guys," he said. "I go for the green eyed goddesses that like to walk the earth."

I looked at him. I knew he knew exactly what I was thinking.

I have green eyes.

"I've gotta go," he said, getting up. I did the same, tucking the cigarettes into my jeans' back pocket.

"Where you headed?"

"Warped Tour. Some buddies of mine play there."

"Oh yeah? Anyone I'd know?"

He chuckled. "I take it you're heading there too."

I flashed him my 'Silverstein' t-shirt. "You tell me."

He let out a laugh. "Cute Is What We Aim For."

My jaw dropped. "You know Cute?"

"Best friends."

"Dude, that's fucking trippy."

"Code for: bloody fantastic."

I laughed. "Sounds kinda funny coming from you. What with the Aussie accent and all."

"Women find it sexy." He put his arm around me and I could feel my legs wobble as we walked. "You're a woman. Tell me. Is it sexy?"

I looked at my feet and grinned. "Very."

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"A beautiful woman such as yourself can't be single."

"Ha, don't be too sure."

"What idiot would pass you up?"

"A big one," I sulked.

He stopped walking. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," I sighed. "I guess I'm just upset because he changed."

"Baby, seasons change but people don't."

"This one did."

He brushed the hair out of my eyes. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's crazy about you. He'd have to be crazy NOT to be."

I blushed. "Jay, I swear, I'll push you off a cliff if you don't stop with this love voodoo advice shit. You're making too much sense."

He shrugged and smiled. "Hey, it's what I do."

"It's kinda funny actually."

"What is?"

"Well, you said all that, but, I don't know if I can believe it."

He frowned. "You really don't think he's the same guy you knew back in the day?"

I shook my head and sighed. "No, I really don't. He's Pete Wentz, for Christ sakes. He has a Jekyll-Hyde complex."

"You're kidding? Pete Wentz? That's the guy you're nuts about?"

"Used to be," I seethed.

"Man, my sister's got the biggest crush on him. Her room's plastered with band photos of the boy."

I groaned.

"Jealous yet?"

I swatted at his arm. "No. I don't give a shit anymore. If he doesn't want me in his life, I won't intrude. That just makes it harder to get through the next couple months."