Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

15

It's dusk before I know it. The ninety-four degree day is replaced by a seventy-five degree evening— the lowest temperature in over a week. Heavy clouds roll in above my head, but I'm silently begging for them to stay put for a while longer while I selfishly revel in my time with Justin.

He's made me feel the most normal I've ever felt around other people. There's no pressure between us, there's no one to answer to, there's no one to impress. I feel like the truest, most authentic version of myself. It's a version of myself I haven't gotten to know very well, but I'd like to. I think she'd be very happy this way.

We played beer pong together — we won our first round against RJ and Michael then lost the second one miserably. I taught everyone how to play slap cup, which they all thoroughly enjoyed. The folding card table was filled with plastic red cups, spilled drinks, laughter and excitement the entire day— something I haven't experienced even with my closest groups of friends.

But these things don't last forever, because I'm suddenly feeling a raindrop on my bare shoulder just after the sun sets. Before I have even two seconds to call it out, a quiet, yet threatening roar of thunder almost silences our group. A gentle and unanimous groan fills the air a moment later.

"Damn," Justin looks up at the gray-blue sky. "This sucks."

I retreat back into myself, quietly letting sadness envelop me at the thought of this day ending because of some crappy weather.

I'm kicking myself for ever complaining about the heat wave.

"Anyone bring a tent or umbrella or anything?" I hear Michael ask.

No one responds, which tells us all that this party has come to an end.

I'm sure I'm visibly sulking when I overhear RJ say: "We could go over to Whittaker's if you guys are all down."

Sulking turns into hopeful conversation around me, and I look around in hopes that someone will by chance say what Whittaker's is, because I have absolutely no idea.

"I'd go," Justin says beside me, shrugging.

Suddenly I don't care what or where it is. I want to go, too.

After a few others agree, I watch as everyone quickly begins to pack up amidst the rumbles of thunder that seem to grow louder by the second. I've only felt two or three additional raindrops since the first.

Justin pulls my attention to him by stepping in front of me. I look up to him with a wide-eyed gaze in hopes that he'll convince me to go wherever he does.

"You don't have to come with if you don't want to," he looks to me with his normally attentive stare.

Not exactly what I wanted him to say.

"What's Whittaker's?" I ask, feeling dumb.

"A bar in Linford. The only bar in Linford," he corrects himself, laughing softly. "I can take you home if you need me to or—"

"I can head back over to Birdie if you'd rather just go with your friends," I submissively offer, internally pleading that he'll persuade me otherwise.

He shakes his head, the crinkle in his brow returning that I'm learning to appreciate so much. "I wouldn't rather just go with my friends, Jane. I just know things are complicated, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable being out in Linford on a Saturday night."

I'd feel safe with him. "I won't be alone, though. Right?"

The sparkle in his eye returns quickly at my passive proposal to go to the bar with him and his friends. I know he wants me to go with him, but I entirely appreciate his concern for my well-being. It feels like he cares about me.