Paradise City

The punching bag in the fitness room hadn't done anything to me, yet I had almost beaten it off the chain a few dozen times. All that I could see was the dainty face of that blonde that I had seen in his apartment. The one with the messy hair, wearing his shirt and nothing else. It was burned into the insides of my eyelids. And of course the look on Dean's face as the elevator closed. The last time I had seen him before he left.

He was due back any day now.

It wouldn't matter to me if he ever came back. Not seeing him for a month made it seem like I had gotten over him. Like it was a piece of cake. Like I'd be totally fine and not melt into a puddle as soon as I opened my door and saw him standing there.

I could do better than the man who was never home. I could do better than the man who slept with other girls because that's the only way he knew how to feel better about himself. I could do better than the man who built me up just to make me feel like some side bitch who never really meant anything.

In fact, Violet's friend Kyle was pretty cute; he seemed like a nice guy. The idea of dating someone scared me, though. Actually getting up off of my couch, and going out, and getting to know someone? Doing things the normal way instead of moving across the hall from them and spilling drinks in their lap. I'm pretty sure in the real world that's not how you fall in love with someone. At least not someone that you want to last for a while.

I gave the bag another swing before my phone began to ring, interrupting the loud angry-girl-pop music that was blaring through my headphones.

"Hello?"

"I wish you would have told me it was going to be this hot in Vegas."

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. I pulled the phone from my ear to make sure that I saw the name across the screen correctly. A huge smile then spread across my face as I realized what he had just said.

James was in Vegas.

"You little shit! You told me you weren't coming!" The last time I had talked to him, he told me that he couldn't get the days off of work.

"Yeah, well... I lied. Surprise!"

I quickly pulled all of my things together and ran out to my car, throwing my gym bag and towel in the backseat before speeding off towards the airport. It would have been nice of him to tell me beforehand so that I could be there waiting for him to get off the plane with a big, rainbow glitter sign.

He was waiting for me on the curb; multiple suitcases behind him. Leave it to James to bring his entire wardrobe with him as if he was moving in. Not that I would mind. We had shared a bed many nights when we were kids.

As quickly as I could put the car in park, I was out on that sidewalk squeezing him in the tightest hug I could possibly give. I was crying. Sobbing, actually. Every emotion I had been holding back just surfaced as soon as I saw my best friend. The anger that I felt, the regret, the rejection was all mixing together with the joy that I felt that he was actually here. James was here and he was going to make everything better.

He pulled away, keeping me at arms length. "Why are you crying?" He asked, taking his thumbs and wiping the tears from underneath my eyes.

I smiled. "I missed you so much."

"You missed me!? Please, you've been gallivanting around the desert having the time of your life. You missed me. Yeah. Right."

"No, I really did." I wrapped my arms around him one more time before we climbed back in the car and headed back to the apartment.

It felt like there was so much to talk about. Even though we were completely caught up in each other's lives, and we talked on the phone, it just wasn't the same as talking in person. We ran through all of his relationship with Alex, how work was, and just Wallman in general. Same ol' same, nothing new. He talked so highly of Alex, showed me pictures of the two of them. I was really happy that he finally found someone that he could be himself with.

Of course I had to give him the run down, once again, on what happened with Dean. I told him I was still mad about it, but that I was mostly over it. I didn't tell him that I still had a key to his apartment, and that I was still watering his dead plants. James would judge me for that. Hell, I would judge me for that.

"Maybe he just-" James sighed. "I don't know. I don't want to speak for the guy. He's straight, I'm gay. Our minds kind of operate differently."

I took it as a bad sign that for once, James didn't know what to say.

Then I told him about Violet, and Kyle, her cute friend. I offered for all of us to hang out, knowing that James would really like their crowd; even texted to Vi to see if she would want to. Violet's group of friends were nothing like Alisha's. Despite the rough first meeting I had with them, they were all very understanding and forgiving. She didn't have a huge group. It mainly just consisted of herself, Kyle, his brother Toby, and Toby's girlfriend Catherine.

He told me that I needed to put myself out there, and to not hold myself back. If I wanted to go hook up with Kyle or whoever else, James said I should.



It was settled then. I was so excited to have James meet some of my Vegas friends.

When we got back to the apartment, he was in awe. "So this is where you live now? Damn, Cal."

"You should've seen it a month ago." I sighed as I pulled open the fridge. "You hungry? I got an oven-pizza and some B&J's. Or we can call in something?"

I looked up when he didn't reply. James was standing in front of my dad's record player. He lightly ran his index finger on the wooden base. I joined him at his side and noticed that his eyes were glossy, and a tear had fallen onto his cheek.

"Hey." I whispered.

He rested his arm around my shoulders and wiped the tear from his cheek. "I'm okay. I just miss them. Your family was my family. I honestly felt like if I called your mom 'mom' or called your dad 'dad', they wouldn't have cared. Sometimes I think I loved them more than my own parents. Actually, I know I did."

I gave him a side smile. "They loved you, too."

"Remember when I first came out to my mom and she kicked me out of the house. Your mom marched over to my house and we could hear her yelling at my mom all the way down the street. And when my dad left, your dad took me out fishing with him and every weekend after that. He told me that he would always be there for me."

"Hey, no sad stuff. You're here with me now! They wouldn't want us crying over them, anyways."

He tried his hardest to smile.

"I'm going to put on some Guns 'N Roses, throw that pizza in the oven, and we are going to celebrate. And then later we're going to go out so you can explore the strip and get in that real Vegas experience. No touristy shit!"

James nodded, as I queued up the first song on the record. When the guitar solo hit, he was jumping on the couch, doing his best air guitar-headbanging routine. I pulled out my phone and took a short video, until he caught me; the look on his face was priceless.

When it came time for us to start getting ready, we had already tired ourselves out from re-enacting Grease, and now we were going out to some club.

"You're not wearing that." James said, looking over my normal jeans and t-shirt combo. A disgusted frown was plastered on his face.

I missed this so much.

"Why not!?" I snapped back.

"Because, you're not." He immediately began rummaging through my closets, searching for something else that I could wear. "Here."

James through a strapless, black and red pattered dress at me; then my leather jacket and a pair of booted heels.

"Leather jacket? James, we're in Nevada." I replied.

"You'll be wearing it for a total of twenty minutes? Come on. Just change. Now. Thanks."

"You gays are so bossy."

I gave in and changed, though. I had to hand it to him, he did know how to coordinate a good outfit. It was a shame that James had always wanted to be a writer, because he'd do fantastic on Project Runway. Backwoods, country, gay boy turned New York fashion designer. I could see it now.

"See, Callie," he said as I looked at myself in the mirror. "Jeans and t-shirts just aren't your thing."

Violet, Kyle, Toby, and Catherine were already at the club when we arrived. James was getting along with everyone really well. I hadn't seen him this happy in years, and I thought for a moment, what if he moved here? We could find a two bedroom apartment somewhere, or even a house. We could open the bookstore, and he could write in his spare time. It'd be perfect.

"Hello, Ms. Jordan." I heard in my ear, pulling me from my thoughts.

I smiled up at Kyle. "Hi."

"Come dance with me?"

I nodded and followed him out to the dance floor, ignoring the winks and wagging eyebrows from James and Violet. He smelled like crisp, air; the kind that settled over the pine trees after a morning shower in the deep, rustic woods of home. My head rested in the crook of his neck as we swayed to the beat, and his hands roamed my figure. Kyle was the perfect height. He didn't tower over me like Dean did. He wasn't a carved sculpture from God himself. He was just normal. He worked at an outdoor supplies store and shot music videos for local bands in his spare time. He wasn't famous, he wasn't gone three hundred days out of the year, he wasn't Dean.

I liked it.

When the song ended, we headed back to the table we had reserved. I slid into the booth next to James and checked my phone, totally not hoping that I would have a message or missed call from Dean. Instead, there was a missed call from Amanda. I wondered why she would be calling so late, seeing as they were on the East Coast.

"I'll be right back, guys. I have to make a phone call." I told the group. As I scurried off to the bathroom for some privacy, the phone rang again. Amanda's name flashing on the screen once more. "Hey Amanda, is everything okay?"

"Callie." The voice didn't belong to Amanda. My stomach flipped upon hearing him say my name. "Don't hang up, please."

"What do you want?" I asked as I tried my hardest to sound angry or annoyed. I was neither of those things. Truth be told, I was glad he was calling. It had been too long since I had heard that honey-coated, husky voice.

He was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. "How are you?"

Don't let your guard down, I thought to myself. "Did you really call me to ask me how I am?"

He sighed. "I- I don't know, Callie. I just wanted to hear your voice."

My heart almost stopped, and then skipped a beat or two. "Dean, I have to g-"

"Wait, Callie, please. I'll be home in a couple days, can I see you?" It sounded like he was a step away from begging. The cracks in his voice were enough to make me drop the tough girl act all together. I couldn't do that, though. Not yet.

I faked a snarky laugh. "No. Goodbye, Dean."

It near killed me ending that phone call. After weeks of not talking to him, fooling myself into believing that I hated him, or that I was over him. It took a two minute conversation, or lack there of, to prove otherwise. I wasn't over him. And I certainly didn't hate him. If I was going to be honest with myself, which, let's face it, I never am... I'd go as far as to say that I would never be over him, and that I could never hate him.

Chalk it up to whatever 'you never forget your first love' bullshit, but that was how I felt.

When I got back to the booth, Violet and Kyle were on the dance floor along with Toby and Catherine. Kyle gave me a sweet smile and a wink, and I blushed, turning to face James who had a disappointed look on his face.

"What?" I asked him.

"You're gonna hurt that kid."He said, and I sighed in return. "You're head over heels for Dean, and that's not going to change anytime soon. Don't lead that poor guy on."

I slumped my shoulders and looked back over at Kyle.

Once again, James was right.