WHOA CHAPTER TWENTY ALREADY. HOLY SH*T. 

Don't know how many chapters will be in this story, but...Thanks to all of you who have read, commented, and voted on TBBGG ... I love chu.

Shout out to @kwanaa0701 for naming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside! 

Love from somewhere in Neverland,

~Jayy <3

-On to the chapter!-

~~~

NOT EDITED

What am I supposed to do, oh oh?

When she's so damn cold, like twenty below.

That girl, that girl, she's such a bitch. 

I tell myself, 'I can handle it'.

Where am I supposed to go, oh oh?

When she throws me out, and it's twenty below.

That girl, that girl, she's such a trick.

But I can't lie, I'm in love with it.

(That Girl - All Time Low)

The next morning, my alarm wakes me up. I freeze - there's an arm draping over my waist.

Oh God oh God oh God-

"Turn that shit off and go back to sleep," someone growls, the voice husky. I hold my breath, still half asleep, and bring my elbow back. 

The thing's breath is knocked out. It's arm tightens around my waist. Shoot! Mission abort! Mission abort!

"God damn it, CG," I freeze, once again. Drew Steele?

"Oh ..."

He sighs, and I can imagine him biting his lip whilst running his hand through his dark locks of hair. 

That's when I realize something hard is pressing to my lower back. My lips part in a silent gasp.

Oh shit.

I bat his arm off my waist, falling out of the bed and hitting my chin on my desk. He looks over the edge of the bed, judging me.

Then he laughs.

Seriously.

Like I said before, my fairy tale is more like, "L-O-L, nope, fall on yo' ass!"

He has to wipe tears from his eyes as he chuckles away. I groan, standing and rubbing my chin. Ladies and gentlemen, Drew Steele, the biggest douche bag to walk the earth.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

"Why the fuck-" he's still laughing. Nice, I mentally drawl the word, shooting daggers at him with my eyes. 

I growl, attempting to be fierce. This, apparently, just makes him laugh harder. 

"I jumped away because ... your ... er," I stammer. How the hell do I tell him his 'little Drew' was pressing to my back?

"Spit it out," he doesn't even seem fazed.

I point to his crotch.

He looks down. "Well, then ... fuck." 

"Keep it down," I scold quietly, referring to his ... er ... 

We're not gonna go into that.

"Sorry, I can't control my d-"

"Stop!" I clap my hands over my ears, biting my lip while red explodes across my cheeks. Damn him for making me blush so easily.

He chuckles, standing and stopping in front of me. His slim fingers wrap around my wrists and he brings my hands down. "No need. I'm not saying anything dirty," his smirk is naughty.

I look down quickly, embarrassed. 

"Wait, don't-" he quickly springs back, taking his jacket from the floor and holding it in front of his waist. "I, um, still have the-"

I cut him off by laughing. Drew stares at me like I'm going insane. 

"It - it's okay," I choke, my stomach hurting from laughing so hard. "I ... I don't mind."

He scowls, dropping the jacket. I hold back laughter, seeing as his problem has not gone away. "Then why'd you freak out the first time?"

"Well it was pressing against my back," I roll my eyes, sarcastic and blunt. "It could've been the thing from Alien-"

"Ew, okay, that's enough," he raises a hand. I laugh again. 

"Well then," I smile. "I need to get dressed. It looks like rain."

He grins. "Does this mean I get to see you in your underwear?" 

My jaw drops. "Absolutely not!"

Drew sighs. "Next time, I guess."

I scowl. Then, I turn to my chest of drawers to get out dark wash skinny jeans and a loose, long sleeve white v-neck. I point to the door.

"Out," I say.

"Why?"

"I'm getting dressed, Steele!"

He's almost puzzled. "...and? I don't see the problem. Get naked."

"Pervert. At least turn around."

He sighs, finally turning and facing the wall. I hurriedly strip, and change into my clothes. 

"Can I turn now?"

I button up my jeans. "Yeah, go ahead."

As I adjust the edge of my shirt to make it more symmetrical, Drew turns around with an indifferent look on his face. I smooth out my shirt, holding out my arms and spinning once.

"What do you think?"

"I like it." He smirks. "Mainly because it's a v-neck ..."

I roll my eyes, but smile anyway. "Glad you like it."

I sit on the edge of my bed to tie my shoes. He's still awkwardly standing in the middle of my room, glancing at the many pictures lining the walls. The expression he's sporting is cute. He's pressing his lips together, and his blue eyes are focusing on a particular picture of just me, by the boardwalk in L.A. Admiration is in his eyes.

"I'll go get something for you to wear," I mutter, standing.

"You don't have to..." I hurry out of there, already flustered by him.

Ah, God, I need help.

I hesitantly step into my parents' room. Eleven months, it's been eleven months since I've been in here. 

Once I glance around the room once, I see that nothing's changed. There's still dark red sheets, a brown duvet, and fluffy pillows on the bed. My dad's books have not been touched - they now have a fine layer of dust coating them. The picture of me from fourth grade is still on the left side of the bed, on the nightstand.

My heart swells when I remember that the left side is my dad's side.

Swallowing back the lump that is forming in my throat, I go straight to my dad's chest of drawers. 

"Sorry, dad," I murmur into empty air. "I'm falling for this boy. Your clothes aren't too nineties, right?"

I pick out a dark tee shirt, and black jeans. Gazing once at the picture of my mom and dad on top of the cabinets, I try to keep that image. They look so happy.

I hurry out of the room before I start doing something stupid, like cry. Clearing my throat, I step back into my room.

"Here," I thrust the clothes into his face, not meeting his eyes. No doubt that I look sad.

"Thanks, CG," his fingers gently brush my hand as he takes the clothes.

I shiver at the contact. 

"Er ... where's your bathroom?"

I swallow hard, finally looking up.

"Down the hall, first door to the left."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

As he goes to change, I try to focus on other things. Dad wouldn't want me sad. He'd want me smiling.

"Remember, Ni," my dad acknowledges. "No boyfriends until you're thirty-five."

"Dad," I nag. "I told you not to call me that."

"Why? It's short for Nikon, and that was your first camera."

"Yeah, when I was nine. And, until I'm thirty-five? Harsh." I pout.

"You're fourteen."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Men are pigs," he bops my head gently. "Remember that on your wedding night ... when you're forty."

"Fa-ther!" I enunciate each syllable. "It's not like I'm gonna end up on Sixteen and Pregnant."

My dad raises a brow. "Good that you're not, I'd have that boy's ass in a heartbeat."

"Dad. No. You make it sound weird." I shudder.

"On a totally different note, Ni," my dad stood from his seat on the kitchen chair. "Do you know where my crossbow is?"

"CG," Drew's soft voice whispers. I blink; once, twice.

"Hi," I breathe, lunging forward and wrapping my arms around his waist. 

"Why are you hugging me?" He sounds amused.

"...cuddle weather?"

***

 As we walk into the school - with what Noel's surprisingly convenient 'got choir practise, fuck school, can't pick you up :(' text - all eyes are on us. 

Drew turns to me slightly. My arms are wrapping around my books. 

"What day is it?" He murmurs deeply.

"Th-the thirtieth," I mutter, looking down. My eyes widen. "Shit! Your birthday!"

I can feel him smiling, I know I can. "And your banquet. Nice to know you care about me, though, Camera Girl."

I groan. "I can't believe I-"

"Dude ... you're an old man," a boy with light blond hair and brown eyes comes up and claps his hand on Drew's shoulder. "Eighteen. Hot damn." 

Drew chuckles, as I look away, for anything. I feel cold fingers interlock with mine, making me gasp and heat rise to my cheeks.

He's smirking like he knows how frustrating he is. Motherfucker.

"Thanks, man," he's talking to blondie, but his eyes are focusing on me. "It's kinda great ... I guess."

"You wanna go to a party tonight? We all know how Rocco's parties are like," Blondie smirks. I bite my lip; he wouldn't skip out on me ... right?

"Sorry, man, I've got ... plans," he smirks.

"Oh, that's to-"

"You motherfucker!" Someone comes up to Drew and elbows him sharply. Oliver. My face relaxes into a smile. "Turning eighteen ..."

Drew raises a brow. "You've been eighteen for a month, Ollie."

"Well, yeah, but," his eyes flash down to our connected hands. A smirk settles onto his lips. He grabs the blond's arm and shakes him. "Oh my God!" He cries in a high - pitched voice. "You will not believe who I hooked up with last night! It was Tommy Lopez, wow,"  flipping his hair, he turns to me for a split second and winks.

He drags Drew's friend down the hallway, and I can still hear him squealing about the 'Tommy Lopez' guy.

Drew laughs breathily. "Well, then."

The next person to come up doesn't surprise me. A chick, what're the odds? She's got long blond hair, much like the shade Drew's friend has. Her eyes are blue, but they're somehow not as pretty as Drew's. She's dressed, to put it plainly, like a slut.

"Hey, babe," she purrs, "why don't we go into my car for a little bit?" She doesn't even see me. I guess she's as dumb as she is desperate.

"I don't think so," I say, startling even myself. She finally looks at me, a glare settling onto her eyes.

"Ugh, you've lowered your standards," she spits. It doesn't even hurt. In fact ... it's kinda funny. 

"Really?" I say, rolling my eyes. 

"Yeah ... what are you, in the friend-area or whatever it's called?" I want to smack her for not even knowing the correct term. 

"I'm in the friendzone, really?" I cock my eyebrow and smirk. Before I know what I'm doing, I press a hand to Drew's cheek and tip toe, my lips brushing his. 

I close the distance fully, closing my eyes and letting the fireworks burn.

Once I pull away, she looks like an angry cat. 

"Does a girl in the friendzone do that?" 

A/N:

Not so sure how long this is ... well shoop shoop you guys.

ANOTHER F*CKING STORY!

So this guy, who's actually in MY year, is ... yeah. One of my friends was teasing me, and I was already pissed off at the world so I was *this* close to decking him in the face. So, of course, the guy decides to shove him slightly. Not enough to make him fall, but enough to jostle him.

LIKE UGHHH WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME.

And while I was hanging out with a couple of our friends (the guy wasn't there) one of his best friends decides to say, "I think he likes you ... because he acts like it."

And, naturally, I responded with a "Yeah, right. He doesn't."

I was thankful for the darkness, because they couldn't see the red in my cheeks. They also couldn't hear the butterflies in my stomach.

Hope you liked this chapter, and the anecdote!

Until next time,

~Jayy

P.S. I just heard Desperate Measures by Marianas Trench and I'm in love! Why don't you tell me your favourite band in the comments?