Cyberspace Romance

Zoey stood in her bathroom applying her hair dye to her head. It had been a long day at work, and she was glad to just come home and relax. Ryder had two friends over tonight, and she was positive they would be getting into mischief. She placed her tinting brush down on the sink, and walked out of the bathroom. Jacob had his video camera in hand, while Kyle and Ryder sit on the couch with a stapler in their hands.

"What are you idiots doing?" Zoey ask.

The boys turned around and laughed when they saw her standing there dabbing her forehead with a towel, making sure she got the dye off her skin before it colored it.

"We're stapling ourselves. Wanna join?" Ryder ask.
"Uh, no. I don't think so."

She said turning around and walking back into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and then turned on the water in the shower and began washing the color out of her hair. Once she got it all out, she towel dried her hair and then walked out of the bathroom allowing nature to take it's course. She took a seat in the recliner and watched as the boys stapled numerous parts of their body.

"Ry, you're bleeding. That stapler is probably like a hundred years old. you're going to get an infection!" Zoey said looking at her brother's bleeding arm.
"It's a staple, Zoe! Stop being a pansy." Ryder said.
"I'm not a pansy." She said.
"Then let us staple you Zoe!" Jacob suggested.
"Do I look like a immature seventeen year old boy?" She questioned him.

He chuckled, and then continued to call her a pansy for over ten minutes. She finally just gave in.

"Once, and on the arm. And if it hurts, so help me, I will fucking kill each of you!" She said bracing herself.

Ryder smirked and picked up the stapler and walked over to his sister's arm. Kyle was recording the whole thing. She held out her arm and turned her face away; not wanting to watch the small metal staple penetrate her skin. Ryder smiled into the camera, and then pushed it down. Zoey jumped a bit.

"That hurt." She said emotionless.
"It did not, you big sissy." Ryder said "What hurts is pulling it out!"
"You never told me that I had to get it out, Ry!"
"Isn't that kind of obvious?" He questioned his sister.

Kyle recorded as Zoey ripped the staple from her skin, causing blood to pour from the small hole. She shot the boys a disapproving glance and then got up from the chair.

"I'm going to my room. Just don't kill each other." She added before walking away.

Ryder cackled once his sister walked away.

"We're so putting that on youtube right now!" Ryder said with excitement.

While inside her room, she laid on her bed with her laptop on her stomach. She smiled when she saw Brandon sign on. This time, she messaged him first.

"Hey stranger, isn't it early for you to be on?"
"I would say the same thing about you." He responded.
"Yeah, well. I just ripped a staple out of my arm. . . so I figured the Internet was the safest place to be."
"Ripped a stable from your arm?" He questioned her.
"Yeah." She typed. "My brother and his friends are recording shit for their youtube channel. Stapling their arms and shit. They called me a pansy, so I let them do mine."
"You're a trooper." He typed.

Bam smiled as he looked at the screen. He went to her bothers youtube page, and refreshed it every few minutes hoping for the video to surface. Nearly an hour after Zoey messaged him the video was uploaded.

"Ha. your brother uploaded it. I'm checking it out, hold on." He typed.

Bam loaded the video and watched as Ryder and his friend announced as Jacob took the stapler to themselves, but that wasn't what made him smile or laugh. It was the beautiful girl with the wet hair that held her arm out that made him chuckle. He watched as she allowed her brother to staple her arm, and then she told him it hurt with no emotion in her voice. Then he told her she had to take it out, her face was hilarious during that moment.

"Did you not think about taking it out, Zoe?" Bam questioned her.
"No! You know. . . taking it out is the last thing you think about when your little brother's getting ready to jab you with one." She added.

Zoey was getting ready to type a message-- and she had a pop up window that stated she needed to update her computer. She sighed, Ryder had it set up to update their computers whether they liked it or not. So in five minutes her computer would automatically start updating-- which meant she couldn't talk to Brandon.

"My computer is gonna kick me offline in like five minutes for updating."
"That sucks. I really wanted to talk to you tonight."
"I wanna talk to you too. How about you give me your phone number? I have free long distance." She typed wondering if it was too soon.

Bam debated on this for a few minutes. He could give her his phone number and she could possibly recognize his voice-- or he could tell her no, and probably scare her away. She didn't even recognize Missy when she walked into the salon. Why would she recognize his voice?

"It's 555-5555." He typed nervous that he would be talking to her in just a matter of minutes.
"Alright. I'll talk to you in a few minutes."

She logged off the computer and grabbed her cordless from the nightstand. She held it in her hand for a few minutes growing nervous as hell as she dialed the numbers one by one. She didn't know why this guy was having such an effect on her. She hardly even knew him. She shook her head, and just dialed his number. She waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

A husky man voice answered.

"Brandon?" She ask trying not to let her nerves shine through her voice.
"Yeah, it's me, Zoe."
"Awesome. Sorry about the computer. Ryder thinks he knows what he's doing, so he set it up for me."
"It's not problem. I actually prefer this. I'm not good with computers at all." He admitted.
"So, what did you do today?" She ask wondering how his day had went.

He recalled back to his day and remembered the book signing with Novak. The screaming fans, and then going out to the bar with Ryan Dunn for a few drinks. Of course he couldn't tell her anything like this, so he decided to tell her a short summary of his day; leaving out all the main details.

"I hung out with some friends, and then went out to the bar with another friend." He said.
"Sounds fun. Do you work or anything? And I don't even know how old you are" She said, not believing she had missed these vital details.
"Uh yeah. . . I'm a. . ."

What was he suppose to say?

"I actually own a bar." He stated, remembering The Note.
"Awesome!" She squealed out. "Oh, and I'm twenty nine." He said with disgust.

Bam didn't like the fact he was almost in his thirties, but he was learning to deal with it.

"That's not bad. You said twenty nine, like it was a disease or something." She said giggling.
"You don't think I'm old?" He questioned her.
"Not at all."

They talked for hours upon hours. Discovering different things about each other and finding themselves liking each other even more. Bam thought her voice was adorable on a video, he had no idea it would be so amazing on the phone. He found himself concentrating on every single word. Chatting on the phone was so much better than talking to Zoey on the Internet; here he could read her emotions better.

"Shit, Zoe. It's like three in the morning. Don't you have to work?" He said looking over at his night stand.
"Fuck! Bran, thanks for telling me. Yeah, I guess I should be going."
"Yeah, you better. Is this your cell number or home number?" He questioned.
"Home, but my cell is 666-6666." She said.
"Okay, got it. Give me a call tomorrow, or I can give you a call." He said trailing off, wondering if she wanted to talk to him on the phone again.
"Either way. I'll call you at six if I haven't heard from you by then."
"Alright. Sounds good. Night Zoe."
"Night Bran."

He hung up the phone and then laid in bed looking up at his ceiling. How could one girl leave him so completely dazzled. He didn't know if it was her laugh, her sense of humor, or her remarkable beauty. There was just something about Zoey Moore that had Bam wanting her. He wanted to know every single detail about her.

But he also knew he shouldn't lie to her. He shouldn't continue to let her call him Bran, when no one even considered that his name. He should have told her who he was from the beginning, and maybe then he wouldn't feel this wave of guilt on his shoulders.

But would she trust him if she knew who he was? He's technically been lying to her. Would she be able to understand why he didn't tell her who he was?

But the question that he wondered about the most was. . .

If she found out who he was. . . would she still want something to do with him?