t w e n t y - n i n e : one of those people

"I-I," I stutter. "How did you even know how to get here? I've literally never told you--"

"Please," she holds up her phone. Find my iPhone. Who would have guessed? I'm stupid. Well, not necessarily. It wasn't a secret: where I've been. Well, it was today, but on the other days it wasn't. He's just a friend, and hanging out with him should be like my other friends. She shouldn't care.

"A little stalkerish, mom."

She rolls her eyes, "Please. I'm a mother. I have a right to be stalkerish. Did you think I would let you hang out with new people without knowing who they were--or where they live?"

"Good point, I guess."

"What I want to know is why you left the cookout--your favorite event of the summer."

Not anymore. "I just felt a little... cluttered."

She looks confused. "It's just the same people, in the same place, doing the same thing--every year. The monotony got to me. And Shawn, he's--"

"A distraction."

"Could we maybe have this talk somewhere other than here?," I gesture to his house.

We get into the car, and drive off. "He's not a distraction. He's a good friend, actually."

"Hmm."

Shawn's POV:

Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. What the fuck's the point? I'm not doing it anymore. I'm not putting myself out there. I learned a while ago that subjecting myself to emotions would just leave room for disappointment. So we'll remain business friends. I'll go back to not caring because it worked well before. I'll try to do what mom did. I'll try my fucking hardest, even though the chemicals and the rules of society are stacked against me.

So, I'm instituting the first step of this initiative.

Once the dial tone ends, she answers.

"Realized what a fool you are?," she asks smugly.

I roll my eyes, "Fuck you."

"I know you want to."

Maybe I do...

It's been a while, and our last meet-up was interrupted... with slapping.

"Come over?"

"Busy. But maybe later, as long as you promise to behave," she says.

"Promise."

She hangs up. Usually I'm excited to see her--well, excited about the sex, but that call left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Literally and metaphorically. What the hell is holding me back?

It's not her. It shouldn't be her. So what if Rochel hit her? That has nothing to do with me... oh wait. Well, what else could it be? I'm rarely rejected by girls--in fact, I noticed it more with Tiana's weird--I don't want to say obsession--but it might be an obsession. I clearly don't like her, and she still pushes. I guess that's similar to me and Kara. But Kara and I know each other--somewhat--and I guess those feelings... I don't know. Fuck, she started it. I'm done thinking about it. I've got plans tonight, and that's what should be on my mind.

Tiana's POV:

What to do... what to do? I suppose if he's a good fuck, I might not tell the authorities. But this book, those ideas, they're dangerous.

My parents would definitely not approve. But I don't fuck guys that my parents would approve of. That's a position saved for marriage. And I'm definitely not ready for that.

Because Kara was a doll and secured me a date, I'll return the diary to her. She can find a way to get it to him personally.

Here she comes. Back from wherever the hell she escaped to earlier.

"Hey."

"Leave me the fuck alone," she growls.

Someone's a little bitter. I wonder why. I follow her to her room, shutting the door behind me.

She turns around and sighs at the sight of me. Rubbing her forehead, she says, "Please, why do you feel the need to literally rub salt in my wounds?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you fully fucking mental?," she seethes. "Following me around, reminding me of the diary: that!"

"I'm not--"

"Do you know the anxiety I'm putting myself through? I took that book... I don't even know why I took that book, but your walking around taunting me with it... I think I'm at my breaking point."

"Wow," I chuckle sardonically.

"He doesn't want you, and I'm still pushing you two together, when I should be-when I should be..."

"What? When you should be what?"

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

"You want him. You fucking--"

"Not this again, Ti," she sighs.

"I did it."

I don't know why I'm saying this, but I know it needs to come out. She needs to know. I might not be saying it for the right reasons but--

"I leaked that picture of that guy basically sucking off Jack," I say smugly. I emphasize every word to cut her deep. She needs to be brought down a peg. The more desirable, down to earth one--fuck that. I'm hot. That should be enough.

She slowly raises her index finger, "You-You what?," she stutters. "You put me through that mess? And then you pretended to comfort me in... you fucking bitch!," she shouts. I can tell she's hurt. I wanted to hurt her because she took him from me. And now she's going to take another. She knows how much I... She knows that I can be pretty determined and unlucky when it comes to guys. She knew I liked Jack, too. And the bitch still took him.

"I just spread the truth."

"You didn't have to spread a rumor like that... about me. We were supposedly friends. I trusted you. I know you had your followers on the side, and Brittany, but I never thought you'd actually do something like this to me," her words are laced with hurt. "And the blackmail, what the hell is your problem?"

"I-I"

"What the fuck is your problem?!," she seethes, taking some steps closer.

"Forget about it," I sharply turn and get the hell out of there. She's not getting the diary. I have better plans for that, and her little crush.

Wait. I turn back around, "Kaylynn and Lisa knew. Everyone knew, except you, and they still didn't tell."

Time to return to the party. Luckily, I stayed composed, keeping the tears at bay. This mascara was expensive.

Kara's POV:

Oh, that fucking bitch. I'm angry at her and I'm devastated at the same time. We were friends--bestfriends--and now it feels like she's thrown me out like a snot tissue. I shouldn't feel sad about losing this friendship, I should feel exhilarated. Finally, I've gotten rid of that dead weight. I'm trying my hardest to see it that way, but it happened too fast. I could barely react to the first thing, and now there's baggage from months ago. Kaylynn and Lisa knew? Is that why she was so pissed that night of Andrew's party? Why didn't she tell me? Did she think I couldn't handle it or something? I'm sooo tired, so fucking tired of people making decisions on behalf of me... some twisted sense of behalf. I'm tired of people thinking I can't handle it. I just want the truth.

I go downstairs to find all of them huddled around a cake. Dad's blowing out the candles, and cutting pieces.

"Honey, if you weren't cooped up in your room all afternoon, you would know that we're serving cake."

"Sorry, dad. I was just a little tired--"

"You slept all morning," he cuts in.

"Well, I--"

"Some people need more rest than others," the bitch interjects. The way I want to just wring her neck until there's no life left...

"Yep," I say curtly. I take a piece of cake and sit down in the corner. I've really dug myself into a shithole, here. Who knows what the hell else she's done. What if she knows about... She can't. As a law, she cannot know.

Jack comes over. "Hey, tasty cake."

God, what made me like this guy so much? I'm really not seeing it now. Honestly, I can't find one thing--other than his looks--that could make me stay with him. I'm not as attached anymore.

"Remember that picture that circulated a few months ago?"

"What?"

"You know, the picture of you with that guy," I say.

"Oh, the rumor."

"I need you to tell me the truth when I ask you this next question. The entire truth," I emphasize. He's taking a huge bite out of his cake, so I don't think he's taking me seriously. I'm dead serious.

"When I broke up with you, at your house, and you were rushing to get back inside, pissed that I had even showed up--"

"Kar"

I snap my head at him, "I'm still speaking."

He bows his head back down to his cake.

"That day, he-he was there, wasn't he? Don-Don't tell me I'm being paranoid, or that I misread the situation, or any other gaslighting crap you may have up your sleeve. I've heard it all before."

"Yes, he--"

"That's all I need to know," I sniffle.

"Wai--"

I pull away from him, and run up to my room. I'm done, officially done with this shit. I'm done with fake boyfriends, fake friends, fake bestfriends--who knew you could have fake bestfriends. I feel like my life is a lie. Not only the relationships, but the politics, too. And there's only one person I know I can trust.

As much as I want to cut that bitch off like a weed, she has something over me: that fucking book. What's keeping her from exposing me? She's got her date. Not like there's a years-long friendship holding her back.

If he was gay, why tag me along like that? Why make such a fucking fool of me, while everyone laughed. What kind of cold-hearted psychopath!?

My knuckles are white, and my hands clutch my teddy bear so tight. I think I've been imagining Tiana's face on it. Poor teddy, I didn't mean to offend you, thinking of you as literally medusa. How could someone I've been friends with for so long make me so murderous?

All the condescending remarks, leaving me at parties, ditching me for her fake friends... or was I the fake friend?

I hate having to literally rethink the last 8 months to a year of my life, scanning the events to find where I went wrong. Something must have prompted this--something I did.

I need to grab my wallet, my charger, my... where's my phone? Oh, on the charger.

Okay, time to go. Again.

I storm through the living room with a sweatshirt and leggings on. I've traded my more formal dressing for something comfortable. I can breathe. I've also decided not to stick to their social norms anymore. I'm doing what makes me happy, and I hope what Shawn saw wasn't true, because if so, we're all fucked--quite literally.

Mom tries to stop me, "Leaving? Again?"

"I think this event's just about wrapped up." I've ruined relationships with about half of the guests.

She sighs, "Fine. Go. Leave me."

"K, Bye."

I speed off to the other side of town. I was gonna turn off Find my iPhone, but fuck it, I don't care if they know where I am.

I pull up to his house, and his car's still there. I need to take a breath. Am I really going to do this? I've got to work up the nerve. Pep talk, I need a pep talk. I've never done something this--fuck it, here I go.

I leap from the car and ring his doorbell in one movement. He reluctantly walks over to the door.

"Who the hell could that be?," he grumbles. I tap my feet. Your favorite person.

He opens the door, shirtless and with his wet blonde hair swept in all different directions.

I gasp at the sight, then cover my mouth.

He smirks, "I'm not buying any," he slowly nudges the door closed.

I put my foot in between the door jam, "I'm not selling anything."

He releases the door for me to get in. I finally glance down to see he's just in a towel.

"Oh, no," I exclaim. "I interrupted your shower. I'm sorry, I--"

"Just tell me why you're here," he says earnestly. I can tell he was really hurt by my reaction earlier... or 24 years ago.

"I wanted you to know," I begin as I plant my lips on his. However, because of my clumsiness, I've kissed his chin. His fucking chin.

"Oh my God, I'm stupid. Eww, I couldn't even do that right. You do it so well, and--"

He cuts me off with a stronger kiss, grabbing my waist, pulling me closer to him. I grab his neck. It's cool and soft.

"Mmm," I moan. He groans in return. I've never felt a kiss like this one. Jack and I have kissed a lot, but never like this. He's not comparable to Jack. Not even in the same ballpark, not even the same city.

Shawn's experienced. That scares me, too. But it also excites me. He picks me up bridal style--just like that day at... I can't even think her name. It leaves a bitter taste in my... brain.

We head up to his room. A familiar place, but not like this.

We never stop kissing for a second. His lips are like water... probably because they're wet.

He's so hot. I mean, I've seen him as attractive, but not like this. He places me on the black cover and leaves soft kisses down my neck.

Pulling my sweatshirt over my head, he continues the kisses down my stomach.

"Ahh," I quickly sit up.

"Hmm, what is it?," he brushes his hair back.

"Umm, I'm not wearing like," I'm searching for the word, to not seem as awkward as I feel. "The best 'lingerie'," I airquote.

He glances down, "Polka dots and hello kitty faces, just what I expected."

And that's what I like about him--accepting the weirdness that is me.

He kisses each of my boobs. I let out a breath. This is heaven. He continues down to my belly button, and then his tongue trickles a couple inches more. Is this really happening?

"What do you want?"

"Hmm?," I hum.

"You need to tell me," he plants two more kisses on my stomach, "what you want," he emphasizes.

I don't know.