Not Meant.

Fluffy pajama shorts that are white with black peace signs, colored red hearts along with purple stars, and a black shirt; just how I like it. I sat on my bed with my legs crossed, chatting with Megan on line on my laptop.

So, Brad told me that he likes Jase but he thinks there's something up. -Meg.

What did you tell him? -Kailey.

I told him to quit trippin' duh! -Meg.

Well that's nice of you. -Kailey.

Of course... So, are you and Jase official yet? -Meg.

No, I'm not sure if I want to be. I like him a lot, but Meggy. Idk. -Kailey.

Just talk to him about it, what's wrong with giving another chance? -Meg.

True. -Kailey.

"Hey." I jumped at the abrupt voice coming from my window, and almost screamed. But it was just Jase. I quickly typed that I'll talk to Megan later and shut my laptop.

"What are you doing in here? Are you crazy?" I gasped, feeling my heart.

"I just wanted to see you again." He weakly smiled, taking a seat next to me.

"This late?" I quirked a brow.

"Not like you were sleeping." He shrugged.

"I could have been." I scolded and he laughed.

"I saw the glow through your window, if you were sleeping it would be pitch black aside from the disco ball." He matter of factually replied, gesturing to my own personal night light.

"Well." I tried to look offended, but it didn't work. "Wait, you don't even live near here. Remember? Rich boy."

"Rich?" He laughed. "You don't live in a bad neighborhood, Kailey."

"I'm still considered middle class, Jase." I mimicked his tone and mirrored his look.

"Borderline." He insisted, causing me to laugh.

"Regardless." I stubbornly retorted, folding my arms across my chest.

"I took a drive." He confessed, taking in a deep breath. "My parents want to talk to you."

"Oh?" I quirked a brow, laying back. "Is it going to be another, you better not be with my son for his money?"

"No." He laughed. "They understand now that it's not the case."

"Oh now they do?" I giggled.

"They thought you were some fifteen year old girl, trying to take on a naive fifteen year old boy to get your favorite sweater. Remember?" He refreshed my memory, at which I grimaced.

"Well, I really did want that sweater." I mumbled, glancing at my closet.

"Yes, and I got it for you. Which is why they thought that, because you accepted so willingly that you just wanted me for my money." He teased.

"I did not!" I gasped, sitting up. "I told you not too."

"But I did anyways." He chuckled. "It was when your daddy got laid off."

"Don't remind me." I looked away, staring at the floor.

"And coincidentally he got a job." He continued.

"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked, staring at him with boredom.

"I don't know, I just want you to see how much I've been there for you." He pressed, leaning forward and kissing my neck. I closed my eyes, and slowly exhaled, enjoying the sensation that's running through me right now.

"Jase." I whispered, gasping when he nibbled on my collar bone.

"Kailey." He replied, running his hands all over my body. Touching up the side of my leg, and the side of my stomach to my breasts.

"Jase." I sternly snap, and removed his hands.

"Fine. But, my parents want you over for dinner some time." He hissed, sitting up with his arms folded.

"Why?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Because they want to give you a chance." He answered, slouching over.

"Now they do?" I coldly laugh.

"These are my parents we're talking about, do remember that." He hissed.

"Fine. But what do I wear?" I furrowed my brows.

"Anything you want, or nothing at all. Depends on your mood." He winked and stood.
"It's late, I should be going."

"Ugh." I groaned and watched him place a leg on the outside of the window.

"Till next time, my love." He grinned, blowing a kiss then hopped onto the tree branch and jumped down. He groaned when he landed on the floor, but none the less regained his composure and limped to his car.

"Night." I whispered, going back to my laptop. Megan logged off, so I just shut the thing off and crawled into bed. Turning my light off and my disco ball on.