What You Mean to Me

Lena.

I sat on my bed, staring down a the pictures in my hands, feeling a growing emptiness within my stomach. I was staring down at pictures of me and Frank, taken a year ago on our birthday.

Frank and I always had shared birthday parties. He was born on the 31st, while I had been born on Friday the 13th, and since we were best friends, and were born so close together, we had always had big double birthday parties with all our friends that usually took place around the 22nd, about the middle mark of our birthdays, one week after mine, one week before his.

But of course we would have our own celebrations with our families together on our actual birthdays too.

The first picture was of the two of us in front of the cake, smiling and hugging; the second was of us blowing out the candles together; a third was of Frank kissing the side of my face, and with me smiling, more like blushing.

Seeing Frank so upset over the last few days had really scared me, and after I ended up crying on his shoulder the other day, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I wanted to be with him. He wasn't with Nora anymore, but I couldn't just go get with him.

That wouldn't be right.

I was his best friend, and that was all I ever would be. Frank wouldn't want me all over him like how Nora used to be. He just saw me as his friend. And I've had to tell myself this a thousand times before.

"Lena? Babe?"

I quickly hid the pictures of me and Frank under my pillow before Jordan walked in. He looked at me and smiled.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing."

Apparently he didn't buy it, because he came and sat next to me, pulling me against him, kissing my temple.

"No, tell me," he said. "Something's wrong? Are you stressed?"

I shrugged again. "I'm… fine. Don't worry."

I got up, going over to my open window, gazing out of it, and over to Frank's house. I was hoping he would be home, and that I would be able to see him doing whatever in his room, but his window was dark, as the rest of his house, signaling no one was home. I sighed, resting my head against my arms, wishing I could just disappear.

That was when I felt Jordan behind me, starting to kiss my shoulder. I straightened up from where I was sitting on the floor, looking at him quizzically. Apparently, he didn't notice, because he just continued to kiss up along my neck, pulling me up from the floor, until he got to my mouth.

"Um… Jordan?" I tried to separate my mouth from his long enough to get a word out.

"Hmmm," He mumbled against my lips, not stopping.

I went along with it, there was no harm in kissing my boyfriend, but the I felt his hand begin to slide up my shirt.

"Jordan, no," I pushed away from him.

"Aw, come on babe, you love it," he said come back and kissing me again.

What the hell is wrong with guys? You say no, and they always come back with 'aw, you love it'. If I loved it, I wouldn't be saying no.

"Jordan!" I pushed him off again. "Stop it!"

I saw my boyfriend's eyes narrow slightly in anger, and I knew that I wasn't going to like what happened next.