Unexpected - Ana and Christian Fan Fic

Chapter Three

Anastasia P.O.V

It's been three days since we went to the Greys' house. Christian and I ended up passing out on his bed while watching The Hangover. The morning after, I woke up before he did and left. He came over to help me paint my room the day after. We kept having mini paint wars and by the end of the day we were covered with more paint than the walls were. Mom made us clean up with the hose outside. Christian thought it would be funny to keep spraying me in the face, I didn't really mind. Since summer just started it's burning up, the water was cooling. I know I haven't known him for long, but it's like we just click. It's like we have been friends for years. I'm so comfortable with him. Our moms are becoming really close too. I found out that Christian is adopted and he had a really tough childhood before he got adopted. Christian doesn't want to talk about it. I completely understand. I know that if and when Christian is ready, he'll share if he wants me to know. Which I hope he does.

Kate, my best friend has been gone for almost three months. She left to study abroad with her brother, Ethan for a while in Paris to see what it's like. I miss her so much. I'm so used to having her by my side 24/7. We have been friends for almost a year now and I can't imagine how I'd survive life without her, even though she's pretty much the exact opposite of me and I'm not gonna see her all the time like I used to before. Kate's outgoing and fashionable while I'm shy and let's just say, I don't quite know how to dress.

Kate has helped me with so much this past year, including the break up. The break up with Matt was heartbreaking for me because of the fact that I loved him and I thought we were going to be together forever. I dated Matt for a few months. One day, he stopped returning my texts and started screening my calls. He told me at school that he was having "family troubles" and couldn't talk. He started to avoid and ignore me. This went on for a few days until I found out the real reason he wasn't talking to me: He was waiting for his breakup postcard to arrive in my mailbox. That's right. He broke up with me via postcard. A FREAKING POSTCARD. Now I admit, that's pretty hilarious.

Tomorrow, Kate arrives back home and me, her, Grace, and Mom are going on a girl's night out. Mom said that if it goes well we'll have a girl's night every Friday night. Both Mom and Grace are insisting that Christian and I spend that time together. I don't really care, since he's the only friend I have here and Kate lives back in Vancouver, three hours away.

Grabbing my phone, I head out to our shed in the backyard. Actually, it's not a shed. It's more of a small one-story guest house. It consists of a bedroom, a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Mom gave me this for my use only and she said I can do whatever I want with it. She knows I'm most likely going to use it for a library and a study space. Yesterday, we went to some thrift stores looking for some stuff to decorate the shed. We found an old, surprisingly comfy love seat. A couple of chairs, a table, and two bookcases that actually match each other. Grace and Christian came over last night to help us move the furniture inside. That's when I noticed Christian is incredibly muscular.

I turn on the lights inside the shed; walk over to the table next to the pale green love seat. I hook my phone up to some speakers, cranking up my music. I open the boxes and boxes of books that I have and start unpacking, putting them away in the bookcases. I can't help but dance when an upbeat song comes on. Moving my hips to the beat, I dance like there's no tomorrow. The stress of the moving process starts to leave my body. My hair tie comes out, letting my curls bounce everywhere.

"Damn, you can move." Shocked, I spin around coming out of my own private world. Christian is standing in the doorway leaning on the frame with his arms crossed trying to hold back a laugh. I turn down my music.

"Then why are you laughing?" I ask, continuing to put my things away.

"I said that you could move, not that you're coordinated."