She's Glitter and Gold

Oh my God , I think for probably the hundredth time tonight. He kissed me. And I kissed him. We. Kissed. Oh my God
I don't know why I'm still so shocked. It was just a kiss, and it meant nothing. Just a simple, innocent kiss.
I roll over and bury my head in my pillow. It's not like we made out. There wasn't even any tongue. Just a kiss. And it was only so I could get a cookie
I keep trying to convince myself of this, but no matter how much I say it meant nothing, I can't seem to get rid of the nauseating butterflies in my stomach, or the blush that wont leave my cheeks.
I'm acting like a twelve year old. He probably didn't think anything of it at all
I let out a huff of breath and roll back over so I can stare at my dark ceiling some more. The giddy, sick feeling is something I'm almost unfamiliar with now. The only time I'd ever felt similar to this was back in high school when I first started dating Jim.
This is stupid. I don't like Jack like that. He's hot. If anything, this is lust
I roll over to my side, and try to will myself to fall asleep, but instead I just stare at the burning red light of my alarm clock.
3:27 am
I groan and turn my back to the time.
Stupid Jack

I spend the next day exhausted, stumbling around the empty house while I try to replace my lack of sleep with coffee.
A part of me wants to text Jack, but I don't. God knows what he thought of the whole kiss thing. Yes, he initiated it, but that doesn't mean he'd actually liked it.
I flip through the channels on the TV, not really finding anything of my interest. Eventually I settle on a reality show that I pay little to no attention to.
Suddenly my phone buzzes, and I quickly grab it, hoping to see Jack's name.
I stare at the screen, frowning at the unfamiliar number as I turn the TV off.
"Hello?" I say when I finally answer it.
"Hello, is this Miss Daley?" A woman's voice asks politely.
"Yes it is, how may I help you?" I return the politeness, and continue to wonder who could be calling me.
"I'm calling from Lenox Hill Hospital in New York. We received an application from you, and I'm interested in scheduling an interview. Would tomorrow be good?"
Excitement floods through me and I quickly try acting as professional as possible. "Of course, that would be great. What time?"
"How does ten thirty sound?"
"Great. I'll be there Miss...?"
"Lawrence," she finishes. "Alright, I'll see you then."
I say goodbye and hang up, and let out a little squeal and run into my room while dialing my mom's number.

JACK'S POV:

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve!" I whine into the phone, but I'm already pulling out a backpack and stuffing it with clothes.
"I hate driving far by myself," Rihanna replies, her voice matching my bratty, two year old tone.
"Why do you have a job interview on Christmas fucking Eve?" I ask as I carry my bag into the bathroom and start piling hair stuff in it.
"Does that mean you'll go with me?" she asks excitedly.
I sigh dramatically, but smile a little at her excitement. "Why do I have to go with you?"
"Because my mom and sister are working," she explains. "And I'm kind of lacking in the friend department."
"What about Zack? You guys are friends," I point out as I zip up my bag.
"He dated my best friend's sister," she corrects. "That doesn't exactly make us friends."
"What about this best friend?" I press, enjoying giving her a hard time.
"She lives in Arkansas now. Are you coming or not?"
"Who the fuck moves to Arkansas?" I ask with a frown.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Jackson Rodriguez Barakat, are you coming or-"
"Rodriguez?" I ask with a small laugh.
"It sounds good. Answer my fucking question or I'll shave your head," she threatens.
"My car or yours?" I ask in response.
She lets out a sort of excited squeal, and says, "Mine. I'll be at your house in ten."

" Once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change ," we sing in unison as Rihanna drives slowly down the highway.
"WHY ARE YOU DRIVING LIKE A GRANDMA?" I yell over the Paramore song.
She lowers the music just enough so we don't have to scream. "Maybe because it's snowing and I want to make it to New York alive."
I roll my eyes and say "Yolo," before turning the music back up so I can try perfecting my Hayley Williams impersonation. After we've been on the road two hours and are about halfway there I ask, "Are we staying in a hotel, or what?"
Her eyes flicker over to me briefly, then go back to the road. "No, Jack. We're gonna sleep on park benches in the middle of winter."
"Ooh, great plan!" I say, copying her sarcasm.
She smiles a little and changes the song. "There's a hotel right down the street from the hospital. I called earlier and booked a room there."
I cock my head to the side and smirk at her. "Are we... sharing a room?"
She rolls her eyes. "Two beds."
I grin and kick my feet up onto the dashboard. "Lame."

"I get this bed!" I yell as soon as we enter the hotel room.
I start running for the bed by the window, but she yells for me to stop. I turn around and frown at her. "We have to look for bed bugs," she informs me as she sets her bag of clothes just outside the hotel door. I walk back to the entrance and set my bag next to hers, then follow her into the room and watch her pull the edges of our sheets off the beds. She looks in random spots, staring at them intensely, before declaring the room to be clean.
"Paranoid much?" I ask with a smirk as I lay down on my bed.
"You never know," she says with a shrug. She starts digging through her back and pulls out two shirts, one black, the other white, both button down and collared. "Which one?" she asks as she holds them both up in front of her.
She starts asking me different questions, like if she should wear her hair up or down, if she should wear eyeliner or just mascara, heels or flats, and eventually I groan like I'm being stabbed. "Please!" I exclaim. "I can feel my dick shrinking."
She chuckles and hangs up the black shirt and a grey pencil skirt before sitting on her bed. "What should we do?" she asks as she picks a 'Touring New York' book off of the nightstand.
"Have sex?" I suggest as I roll onto my stomach and watch her.
"Ha ha," she says in a monotone. "Come on, we're in New York City. Let's go somewhere for dinner."
"Pizza?" I ask hopefully.
She jumps off of the bed and starts pulling her hair up into a bun. "Chinese," she corrects.
I pout and follow her out of our room. "What's with chicks and Asian food?" I grumble as we walk down to the lobby and out into the chilly evening air.
"What's with dudes and pizza?" she counters as she hails a taxi.
One pulls up immediately and she tells the driver to go to the nearest dine-in Chinese restaurant, and we're off.