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

27

"Ryan Gosling."

"What?"

"That's my choice. Ryan Gosling," Justin reiterates as he sits beside me in the bed of his truck.

Our first date takes place in a wide open field that evening, the one across from his apartment. He drives through some backroads to get further out and on the way there, he tells me that we're going to watch fireworks together.

Although it's simple, it's thoughtful and personal. It's more than anyone else has ever done for me in my life, because it shows he wants to spend time with me and get to know me.

Our backs are leaned up against the back window, our legs stretched out over the flat bed. We sit on a blanket that Justin was certain to bring along with him. Our bodies aren't touching which is an anomaly, but I'm sure they will soon given how magnetic we seem to be.

"That's such a man answer," I roll my eyes when he answers my question.

I asked him who his same-sex crush is.

"Well, I am a man. You know that, don't you?" he asks.

Paired with an eye roll, I cross my arms over my stomach to keep warm. Although it's July, the nights get kind of cold. Or at least, it seems like they do when I don't spend them with Justin.

"What about you?" he knocks his knee against mine.

I look up at the dark sky that's littered with stars. The fireworks haven't started yet, they won't until 11:15. That means we have about eight more minutes to talk about whatever we feel like until I'll be too entranced by the boy beside me being illuminated by colorful lights.

Shrugging, I cover my hands with Justin's sweatshirt sleeves. Even though we're not touching yet, this kind of feels like we are.

"Would you judge me if I said Tyra Banks?"

This makes him laugh, causing an eruption of butterflies in my stomach. I fascinate over the little creases at the corner of his eyes, wishing I could stare at them forever. I'd make him laugh forever and ever and ever if I could if it meant I could see them.

"No, I wouldn't judge you at all," he rests his head on the back of the truck, intently observing me back.

"Your laugh tells me different."

"I promise, I'd never judge you," he nudges me with his arm.

Can we make it more than three minutes without touching? We're not animals, I'm sure we can conjure up some self-restraint to stay separated, right?

"What's your favorite movie?" he asks.

"Friday the 13th. You?"

"Top Gun."

"Another man answer," I tease. "Is there somewhere you want to go that you never have?"

I like this game of asking innocent but totally genuine questions. It lets us learn each other a little more, but it also keeps me distracted from moving closer to him or touching his face or his arm or his leg.

"I think I'd like to go to Seattle to visit my brother. It's been a really long time since we've seen each other," he answers. "Plus I've never been on the west coast before. What about you?"

"Hm," I twist my lips to the side. "I've only ever gone to Florida, actually. So I guess there's a lot of places I'd like to go. Europe maybe?"

"Jane, I've even been to Florida. I expected you to be more worldly."

I shake my head. "Nope. It's not in the blueprints. Besides, my grandparents were the reason I went to Florida. They took me to Disney when I was five before Patrick was born as a surprise. My mom was livid about it."