You're My Special Little Lady

Uhm.

I could have sworn I just told him why he couldn’t kiss me. And yet, looky here. He’s kissing me.

On the lips.

Right now.

This can’t be happening. I pulled away immediately, looking to him in shock. “What the hell, Justin? I just told you – mph!” He kissed me again, roughly, pushing me toward the couch. I screamed against his lips, thrashing. I was finally able to break the kiss and brought my hand up, smacking him hard across his gorgeous face. Guilt filled me, but I stood still, waiting. “Why did you do that?” I whispered.

“Tell me you didn’t feel anything.” He said, our gazes locking. “Tell me.” I looked away, crossing and uncrossing my arms. I shifted my weight to my right foot, looking to him. I bit my lip.

“I can’t.” He walked toward me, not breaking out eye contact. I backed away, stumbling as my back hit a wall. Shit.

“Why not?” He leaned down to my level.

“Because,” I stuttered, mumbling the rest of my sentence.

“What?” He breathed. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Because I’d be lying.” I snapped. “Okay? I felt something. But that doesn’t matter, so move.” I tried shoving him out of the way, but he didn’t budge. “Move, Justin.” I glared at him. His eyes were soft; sparkling as he obediently stepped aside, letting me pass. I sat on the couch, ignoring him, eyes on the TV as he dressed fully. He pulled on his shirt and shoes, waiting for me to say something, but I never did.

I laughed, watching Justin flash funny faces at the camera. He had been in a good mood since the whole incident this morning. I guess the fact that I felt something in that kiss made him happy. I wasn’t lying; I did feel something. Sparks, fireworks – all that jazz. Did I have feelings for him? I don’t know. He’s always been “just a friend,” and nothing more than that. Thinking about him being more was just…overwhelming. I couldn’t keep my mind straight. I’d get lost in fantasies, then snap back to reality and think about what would happen if the relationship didn’t work. I loved Justin, but being in love with him was something I couldn’t think about right now.

“Katie!” He called. “Come take some pictures with me!”

“No way.” I shook my head.

“Come on!” He waved me over, jumping with excitement. I shook my head, laughing. He rushed at me, grabbing me and throwing me over his shoulder. I screamed, kicking as he brought me in front of the camera. I smacked his ass repeatedly, yelling at him to put me down. He finally did, grinning as he spun me to face the camera, ducking behind me. He used my hair to make himself a mustache. I was laughing as they took the picture.

“No! Don’t take pictures!” I made a break for it, trying to get back to my seat. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, flashing a bright smile to the camera as I giggled, trying to get away. I looked to the screen where the picture they just took was previewed. It was a really good picture. I moved behind him, hopping onto his back. He grasped my legs and spun, laughing. I had a tight grip around his shoulders, the photographer snapping pictures left and right.

Justin and I were still the same friends as we had been. Even after what’s happened between us. I was pretty sure my feelings for him were stronger than I’d ever admit, but really – that doesn’t matter right now. He’s my best friend. I love him.

And that’s it.

There’s something I always find myself doing. I stare at Justin when he’s writing a new song. I can’t help it – no matter how creepy it sounds – I just do. He’s so concentrated and serious; in his own world. He doesn’t see me staring, I think. He’d probably call me a freak if he did. When he’s stuck on a line, he sometimes asks me for help. But this time when he was stuck, he tapped his pencil against the book, an annoyed expression on his face.

“Need some help?” I asked, coming to sit down. He slapped the book closed immediately, looking at me with narrowed eyes. I stopped, standing in confusion.

“No.” He said. “This one’s private.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Uh, alright.” I cleared my throat, moving to my suitcase. I grabbed my pajamas and turned to him. He already had the book open again, moved so I couldn’t see it. I frowned. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Uh-huh.” He said absentmindedly, not looking up. I sighed, going into the bathroom. I wonder what his problem is. I heard him call me and ducked my head into the room, eyebrows raised. He flicked his wrist at my phone on the night stand. “It went off.”

“Oh.” I walked over, picking it up. Peter had texted me. I grinned.

Hello beautiful. :) How are you? I giggled, catching Justin’s attention.

I’m fine. Justin’s being weird. :\

Why do you always mention him? If I wanted to know what he’s doing, I’d text him, not you. I blinked, furrowing my eyebrows.

Uhm. Because he’s my best friend? Lose your attitude and text me later. Thanks. I snapped my phone closed, slamming it down on the table. I huffed in annoyance.

“Who was that?” Justin asked, suddenly standing beside me.

“Peter.” I frowned, his expression matching mine at the name.

“I don’t like him.”

“I know.” My phone went off again. I opened the text, fully knowing he was reading over my shoulder.

You said the other night you weren’t sure how you felt about me. If you really liked me, then you wouldn’t mention your “best friend” so fucking much. It’s annoying.

“What the hell?” Justin said. “Wait a second.” He said as an afterthought. “You like him?”

“I don’t know.” I went to text back, but the phone rang suddenly.

“Don’t answer.” Justin said, seeing Peter’s name on the screen.

“I have to.” I sighed. He frowned again, moving back to his place on the bed, pulling the book out from under his pillow. “Hello?” I answered, annoyed.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said immediately. “I just…I’m jealous, alright? I don’t like how close you and Justin are. I want us to be like that.”

“We just met. There’s no way I can be that close to you so soon. I’ve known him my whole life.”

“I know that.” He sighed. “I just…want something more than friendship.” My eyes widened.

“W-What are you saying?” Holy shit. I stuttered, looking to Justin. He was watching me now.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Let me say this again;

Holy. Shit.