Keep Me Guessing

--Alex's POV--

"Is this some sort of cruel joke?"

Carol rolled her eyes at me while snapping up the receipt for a teenage boy purchasing an Adam Lambert CD. Seriously. I was fully capable of smothering my face with makeup and jumping into black leather skinny jeans and cuffs for my concerts, too, if it meant selling a couple CDs. But I can bet an entire stick of guyliner that I wouldn't enjoy screaming like a girl into a microphone while surrounded by glittering male dancers like he clearly did. I gladly lose that battle.

"You don't think it's even a little funny, Alex?" Carol asked, bringing me back to reality as the corner of her mouth played up into a smile.

I hesitated. "I haven't decided if blessing me with a Justin Bieber CD is my idea of funny yet. I really wanted that new Death Cab album."

"You made her scramble for a Lil' Wayne album." She said flatly with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, and I'm not so sure I should be excited she figured that one out." I responded with a sigh.

Carol once more rolled her eyes and blew a quickly popped bubble out of the gum in her mouth. She shook her head, "You're making it sound like you didn't want her to find it."

I paused and looked down at Bieber's CD, as if apologetically. "That's not true..." I said quietly.

The rapid snapping of fingers directly in front of my face brought my eyes right back up. Carol was looking at me evenly. "What are your intentions with this girl anyways?"

"I don't know, Carol. You literally just now confirmed the fact she's a female to begin with."

"Yeah, she is. And based on what I saw of her while she was here, I can promise you I would've personally helped her find that last damn CD."

I blinked at her in surprise. "What?"

She laughed, "Really, Alex. You don't know this girl for a reason. You're getting to know her before you meet her or sleep with her or all of the above. If I had to, I would've kept this thing going because I think it's exactly what you need these days." She ended with a smirk and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.

"Was that the polite way of telling me she's ugly?"

She smacked my hand and laughed. "I think her knowledge of John Lennon and The Beatles tells you enough."

I smiled at the thought, this mystery girl grinning down at the note I'd left her, understanding immediately what my favorite quote of all time was all about. I pictured her laughing at my fruitless attempt at stumping her, because it was so obvious and perfect to her. I bet she didn't even have to look it up, and just found her way directly to The Beatles CDs to find her favorite and mine, Let It Be.

I was assuming a lot of things about her already. But whether it was a good idea or not to come up with images in my head of the girl that I was communicating with was shadowed by my need to uncover her identity one little adventure at a time.

"You think this is worth it, Car?" I asked Carol, picking up the Bieber CD in my hand.

Carol smirked, her green eyes brightening at me. "I respect any girl that likes to fuck with you. Especially girls that haven't even gotten a glimpse of you."

* * *

She threw me for a loop with the Bieber CD. I didn't particularly understand the significance of the title or appearance of the CD, so I had to assume it was just for laughs. I mean, when all else fails, why not throw some of the Biebs in the equation for laughs?

Walking down the streets of downtown Baltimore, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of music she listened to. I knew I'd masked myself by intermixing classic rock with rap and horrendously composed pop in my clues. She figured them all out, but by making a well-deserved joke out of leaving me this CD, I was once more without any clue as to what she liked.

Of course, that didn't stop me from dreaming. I still imagined a beautiful, level-headed, and hilariously refreshing girl on the other side of the scripted handwriting and quirky remarks. These next responses, underneath the Bieb's cover art and God knew where else, would reveal more to me than her first interactions with me.

Because now, I was the contender that proved he was sticking around. I wasn't a possibility anymore, a risk to be left on stage with only hopes and prayers to guide it through the ranks of assholes that could have picked it up. Her instructions were basic, her humor obvious; now, with a prime target in the form of a young adult rockstar, she could change, just like that.

I had to keep her guessing. I didn't want to communicate with someone that was just going to evaporate into her interpretation of perfect for me. Regardless of my name or appearance, I wanted to be heard, not seen, not stereotyped or copied.

Besides, it was hard to be attracted to a robot.

I smiled as I pulled out the CD in my back pocket again, then shuddered in response to the Biebs' hypnotic stare. I quickly opened the case, took out the protruding note that I'd known was there, and tucked the CD right back into my pocket, protecting me from that teenybopper gaze.

I unfolded the note to see what awaited me today.

You gotta respect the power of the Biebs. He's perfected the masterful technique of captivating a girl's heart, what with that golden smile, gorgeous set of chocolate brown eyes, and oh my GOD, that hair. You couldn't paint a more perfect picture for a girl's ideal boyfriend.

Unfortunately, I'm not one of those captivated, near-insane girls. You may now let out a collected sigh of relief. Shockingly, I prefer the music of the musician rather than the musician himself. Or herself. Whatever works for you.

Now, I think it's safe to say we both appreciate music, correct? Baltimore's filled to the brim with all kinds of music, whether you prefer poorly produced mainstream or traumatically worded hip hop. But Baltimore's also pretty renowned for its infamous Blue Crab, you know.

Now, Follow it.

I couldn't have respected her more for her commentary if I tried.

But now, with my unfortunate task laid out in front of me, I had to get Jack.