Ten Things I Hate About Alex Gaskarth

"Whoo," Leila lets out a small laugh as I sit down across from her. "Someone looks like shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I send her a small glare as I beckon a waiter over, asking for a beer. "Long night," I murmur as the waiter walks away, my head falling on to the table. I make sure to block the image of Alex kissing me in the parking lot from my mind.

"Why was it a long night?"

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, my head pounding obnoxiously.

No matter what I did last night, chugging NyQuil or hitting my head against the counter to feel tired, I could not fall asleep last night. I was tossing and turning in my bed, trying to decipher my feelings for Alex and his feelings for me. Does he actually like me? Or is this once again a ploy like Prom from high school?

And was Prom even a ploy to begin with?

"Lots of reasons," I answer simply, forcing myself to move my head up so I could look my best friend in the face. "Why did you call me to some bar at an un-Godly time in the morning?"

"It's noon, Ana," Leila laughs, taking a sip of her martini. Why she is drinking a martini at twelve p.m., I do not know. "And we're here to plan your party remember? You need a night to let loose and have fun."

"And last night wasn't one of those nights?" I wince mentally.

"I don't count bowling as letting loose," Leila waves her hand at me, acting as if I were a nuisance. "Letting loose is getting drunk and grinding on some random guy, who might end up in your bed the next morning. You haven't gotten laid in months, and don't deny it—" she adds when I open my mouth to interject "—because the last time I saw a guy come out of your apartment was in January, and that was your cousin."

I roll my eyes, using a hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. "Who cares if I haven't had sex in awhile? No one gives a fuck, and I honestly don't. I mean, for fuck's sake, last night was the first time I'd been kissed since last August—"

I slap a hand over my mouth after I'd realized what I'd done.

Just thinking about it reminded me of everything. The way his mouth shaped mine, fitting over my lips like a puzzle. The way his hands had slithered up my waist and torso and neck to run through my unruly hair, the sensation setting tingles off over my skin. And the way he had breathed in at the same moment I had—it's like we were perfectly in sync.

"You kissed someone last night?!" Leila exclaims, acting as if this one piece of information was the best thing she'd heard in years.

"Yes," I hiss, glancing around. "Shut up and stop acting like we're 13."

"But this is huge! Who was it that kissed you?"

I let this question dangle between us, averting my gaze. "I'd rather not talk about it." There was a small silence again before Leila shakes her head, speaking.

"It was Alex, wasn't it?"

I snap my head over to hers, my eyes narrowing. "How the fuck did you know that?" I hiss a second time, leaning forward, my eyes flicking around as if he were eavesdropping in on my conversation right now.

"Because the boy is head over heels for you," Leila proclaims casually, shrugging her lean shoulders.

"Wha—how do you know that?" I sputter, my fingers gripping the sides of the table.

She rolls her eyes, acting as if I were a silly little girl who needed to force-fed every little thing. "It was oh-so-obvious last night, Anastasia. Did you not notice the way you guys were flirting? Like that whole bet thing? What the fuck was that?! He was so hinting toward spending the night with you and having hot sex, but you were totally obliv—"

"Ew!" I cover my ears as she giggles at my reaction. "Disgusting! First of all, hot sex? What are you, a perverted old guy who watches porn in his parent's basement? And second, Alex and I were not flirting. I wanted him to leave, in all honesty."

"So not true," Leila scoffs. "He was eating out of the palm of your hand."

"He wasn't eating anything of mine!"

My best friend smirks. "He wishes he was."

I slap a hand to my forehead as Leila laughs again. Every time Alex is mentioned or is around, him eating me out seems to get put into the conversation, and it made me really uncomfortable. Whether or not that was a result of me not wanting it, or wanting it so bad that it made me get goosebumps, I still haven't figured out.

"Can we get to the matter at hand, please?" I ask, pulling a hand through my bed head. I had been too lazy to do shit this morning, seeing as I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"The matter of how you and Alex need to get together?"

"My party!" I growl, reaching out as if to choke her.

She dodges my hand, chuckling to herself. "Fine. I have so many ideas. I wanted to have it at the new club down on Recker, the one just off of Broadway? It's called Beat Feet, and it has the nicest fucking dance floor I've ever seen. And then I was gonna hire that catering company that we used for my Aunt's wedding, because they had really great steak and the steak at the club is really nasty. And then I was gonna order a bunch of beer and Mike's Hard Lemonade because I know you don't like hard, hard alcohol. I also wanted to have balloons, because you know it's for a birth—"

I zoned out after that, leaning my head against my hand.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I groan out softly, reaching down with my free hand to pull it out. I tap the screen to bring it to life, opening the call. I look down at it, my eyes widening.

Call from: Alexander Gaskarth.

I could feel my heart pulsing in my ears like a metronome. My heart told me to pick it up and answer and just talk to him about what happened last night.

But then my brain told me he wasn't worth it. Remember what he did to you? A voice itched at the back of my skull, whispering in my ear like a tick. You don't want to go through that again. Going through that once is enough for a life time.

My finger twitches at the thought of pressing Talk.

But at the last moment I ignore it, shoving the phone back in my pocket. Leila was still blabbing, so I listen in, that voice still talking to me in the back of my brain.

Alex—

I growl and snap my phone shut when she doesn't answer, refusing to talk to her voice-mail about this. I knew I was in the wrong when I kissed her; I probably scared her off now. And that was my last intention.

Actually, it was never any one of my intentions to begin with.

I pull a hand through my messy hair as I throw my phone down, blowing out a breath. I close my eyes, my brain immediately replaying last night.

If I try hard enough, I can still feel the way her skin felt against mine, the way shocks rushed down my spine as our lips touched. How her eyelids fluttered shut on instinct, and the way we both breathed in simultaneously; almost like kissing each other was second nature for us.

I wanted to show her that what I told her was genuine. That I really truly want to be with her. And no one else. That Prom was a stupid kid trying to get the girl he likes. And I was willing to do anything to prove that.

I just need to know if she's willing to let me do that.