A Stupid, Hopeless Crush

Chapter-3 Fast And Furious

♠ BRANDON ALEX DASHNER ♠

I get out of the car and walk over to her. She's sitting on the front steps of her house, and it doesn't take a rocket-scientist to figure out that she was almost gonna start crying before I came here. As I walk, I straighten my t-shirt and put a hand in my pocket as I casually approach her. As soon as she sees me, she gives me a baleful look.

"Kylee," I say.

"Brandon," she replies, though there's no sign of change in her expression.

Try to control your frickin' laughter, Brandon.

"Are you locked out?! Oh Jesus, Kylee, the Queen-of-Sass is locked out of her own house," I say, smirking down at her. "I'm not locked out, shithead." She frowns down at her sneakers.

"Oh! So you left your house because you finally realized how much you're in love with me?" My smirk widens into a broad grin.

"I forgot my bloody keys," she says in a barely audible tone. Oh, I think, but pretend not to hear her. "You know that my mom just left for work, don't you? We could be the only people in my house. Alone. Uninterrupted. Togeth-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, DASHNER, OR I'LL KILL YOU HERE AND NOW!" she screams.

A few kids walking in the neighborhood stop and turn to us, and in an instant, they run away, yelling, "MURDERER, MURDERER!"

I laugh, and she blushes, and says, "I'm sorry," in a seriously low tone, thinking that I won't be able to hear her.

Well, apology accepted.

She's wearing a loose black shirt with baggy jeans and sneakers. She wears no makeup, except for some eyeliner that brings out her green eyes. Her hair, that were tied in a messy bun, are down now, a few strands covering her face. As it is, she takes no effort in caring how she looks.

Typical Kylee, I think without realizing that I've been staring at her for more than the time that is socially acceptable to stare at someone. I absently say, "I can give you a lift, you know."

She looks up at me in surprise, then at the car, then again at me again, this time suspiciously. "Relax, I'm not a serial killer or a rapist," I tell her.

After a moment, she sighs and gets up. She gives me the address of the place where she wants to go and follows me to the car. I open the door of the passenger seat, and she uneasily steps in.

Whoa, I'm a gentlemen.

As I sit in the driver's seat, I notice her cheeks turning red. I really want to throw in some snide comment like 'Boys don't blush' or something like 'Calm down, you're not the only one who has a crush on me', but I guess now isn't the right time to do so.

Oh jeez, Brandon, you're turning into such a pussy. 

And then I spot something near her feet. Before I can bend to pick that thing up, Kylee spots it too and snatches it away from my reach. Well, the thing that she took is a magazine, to be precise. And on the cover, there's a picture of a girl. That's all.

Okay, who am I fooling.

So, basically, the girl isn't exactly dressed.

Yes, Kylee Jackson is holding a PORN MAGAZINE.

She stares at me blankly for a few seconds, and then she laughs out loud. I mean, she actually laughs, instead of giggling, like all the other girls I've dated. She laughs so hard that her face turns red and she absently punches my shoulder.

Now, if any other girl would've picked up the magazine, I would've been like, "Go on and read it, babe. You might find your picture inside." But with Kylee...now this is different. She's such a good girl, such an uncool person, so strict, such a leader, that I thought that she'd actually be disgusted and step out of the car. But seeing her, laughing, I'm having thoughts that maybe I don't know her as well as I should.