One of the Boys

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but how did you get in?” I asked.

“Your spare key wasn’t that hard to find,” He said. I kept a spare key under a flower pot in the front yard. I shrugged.

“So why are you over?” I asked as I took off my Wal-Mart vest and sat down next to Nick.

“I just want to hang out with you today,” he said. I shrugged.

“Ok, so what do you wanna do?” I asked.

“I already have something planned, you’ll just have to see what it is,” he said with a smirk. He grabbed my hand as he stood up and lead me to his car outside. He opened my door for me then got on his side, and we were off to who knows where.

Ten minutes later we were at a mini golf course. Nick turned to look at me.

“Do you like mini golf?” he asked me. I smiled.

“Of course, get ready to lose,” I said with a smirk. He smiled back.

“You may be able to beat me at every other known sport, but you won’t be able to beat me at golf,” he said.

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An hour later we were at the last hole, and Nick was winning, but only by a little it. Nick set up his ball. He stood still for a moment then he swung the club. The ball rolled in the hole. Nick took out the card the guy who gave us the clubs and balls gave us at the beginning.

“Hole in one, again,” he said with a smirk in my direction. I rolled my eyes. He was such a showoff, but he was still the sweet, awesome Nick I knew. I put my ball on the fake grass and swung. Unlike Nick I didn’t stand there measuring the distance or whatever he did, I just swung. Surprisingly I got the ball in the hole in two shots. Nick and I walked back to the front with our clubs and balls as Nick tallied up the points, even though we both knew who won. We gave our clubs and balls to the guy at the front.

“Ok, you have 34, and I have 20,” he said. Ok, so he beat me by a landslide.

“Good game,” I said with a smile. He smiled too.

“You too,” he said. We walked back to his car and got in.

“I have another surprise,” Nick said as he started the car.

“Another sport you can beat me at?” I asked sarcastically. He laughed.

“No, something else,” he said. We drove for a few minutes and came to a movie theatre. We got out and walked inside.

“So, what are we seeing?” I asked Nick.

“Whatever you want see,” He said. I looked at all the movie posters before I decided.

“Wanna see Transformers 2?” I asked. He smiled and nodded.

“I was hoping you would pick that.” We walked up to the front and bought two tickets and I paid for myself. Nick knows by now to let me pay for myself. We walked into the movie theatre and sat down just as the light dimmed and the movie started.

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“Sam!” Mikayla yelled as Sam was swept away by the robot alien. Suddenly I felt something slip around my shoulder. I turned to see Nick looking at me, with his arm around. He pulled me closer and leaned in. I was ecstatic inside as I leaned too. Our lips were centimeters away when Nick suddenly leaned away. I felt a mixture of disappointment and confusion.
“Nick, what’s wrong?” I asked, but before he could respond someone yelled,

“OMG! It’s Nick Jonas!” Our heads whipped around to see a 9 year old girl jump out of her seat and jump at Nick. Everyone in the movie theatre was out of their seats trying to find out what was happening. The movie stopped and the lights came on. When the teenage girls saw Nick they screamed and ran at him. Nick grabbed my hand and we ran out of the theatre to Nick’s car. We got in the car and locked the doors just as the girls came running out of the theatre, close behind us. Nick sped out of the parking lot.

“I’m sorry about the movie,” he said as we drove away.

“It’s not your fault, you can’t help it if people recognize you,” I said.

“So, now that I ruined the movie, what do you want to do?” Nick asked.

“You didn’t ruin the movie, that was exciting, running from a mob of crazy teenage girls.”

“Yeah, sure. Try having it happen whenever you step outside your door,” Nick said.

“Hey, you’re lucky. A million people die to be in your position,” I said.

“I know, but I just wish sometimes I could take a walk, or eat at McDonald’s without a mob chasing me,” Nick said sadly.

“Would you trade all you have now to be normal again?” I asked.

“No way. I love what I do, but sometimes I want to do things the normal teenager can do without having someone scream my name,” Nick said. I nodded in understanding.

Nick reached over and turned the radio. One In A Million by Hannah Montana came on.

“They say that good things take time, but really great things happen in a blink of an eye, thought the chances of meeting someone like were a million to one, I can’t believe it, oh whoa, you’re one in a million, all this time I was looking for love, trying to make things work, they weren’t good enough, ’till I thought I’m through, said I’m done and stumbled in the arms of the one.”

“Didn’t you use to date that Hannah Montana girl?” I asked Nick. I saw Nick clench his jaw and frown.

“Yes,” he said, trying not to show any emotion. “I dated Miley Cyrus.”

“Was it that bad?” I asked. I could tell from his expression and his tone that he didn’t like talking about her. There must be some reason.

“It was good at first, we had some fun, but when my career started to take off I couldn’t hang out with her as much, so we just agreed to break-up because we were just too busy to handle a relationship. Things were fine with us after that, a little different, but we were friendly towards each other. But then she wrote that song, 7 Things, about me. She made it sound like I was a jerk, and that I didn’t treat her right. Ever since then I just-I don’t like talking about her,” Nick said angrily. I knew he wasn’t angry with me, he was angry with Miley and the fact that she wrote that song about him. I should have changed the subject right there, but my curiosity got the best of me.

“How do you know she wrote the song about you? Did she tell you that?” I asked. Nick shook his head.

“No, she denies it, but in her music video she held was messing with a key chain, like mine that I wear because of my diabetes, and she held up a photo of us. She scratched my face out so you can’t tell it’s me, but I recognized the photo,” Nick said.

“You deserve better than her, Nick. If she’s not mature enough to handle your break-up you’re better off without her,” I said. Nick smiled weakly.

“Yeah, I know. But I really liked her. We dated for 2 years, and that song was like a slap in the face,” Nick said. “But I did write a few songs about her just to vent, but I didn’t make it bluntly obvious it was about her, I just wrote it to get my feelings out.”

“Which songs did you write about her?” I asked.

“One Man Show, Paranoid, and World War III.”

“I’ve never heard those songs,” I said. Nick looked at me.

“Do you want to hear them?” He asked.

“Yes.” Of course I wanted to hear the songs, I want to hear what he wrote about Miley, what he thought about her. Nick pointed to a small compartment in front of my seat.

“Our CD is in there. Open it up and hand me the CD with a picture of us running through a street with umbrella’s,” He instructed me. I did what he said and handed him the CD.

“Interesting cover,” I commented. Nick smiled.

“It was a lot of fun to shoot that,” he put the CD in the car and turned it to track four. The sound of a drum beat and an electric guitar filled the car.

We listened to all the songs. My favorite was Paranoid.

“Wow, you turned your pain into an awesome song,” I said incredulously. When I’m angry I usually go outside and shoot some hoops or something, but Nick turns something bad into something beautiful.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said modestly.

“Did you write any songs about any of your other girlfriends?” I asked.

“Yeah, I wrote S.O.S about a bad date I had with this girl, but other than that no. I wrote another song about this other girl I really liked, but it didn’t turn into anything. Almost all the other love songs I write with my brothers, and they write about personal experiences they had,” Nick said. I was surprised. I knew he wrote Kung Fu Grip, and that was when he was dating Tina, so the song must have been about her, so why was he lying?

“You didn’t write any love songs for Tina?” I asked. Maybe he forgot about that one.

“No, she just didn’t inspire me to write anything,” he said with a shrug.

“Really? What about that song, that one about a Kung Fu Grip or something? Didn’t you write that about her?” I asked. He looked up.

“I didn’t write that about her,” he said seriously. He had to have written it about her, who else could it be about?

“Who’d you write it about then?” I asked.

“You.”