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

34

My fingers tremble against my phone screen that is covered with my tears, the wetness making it that much harder to find Birdie's name in my contacts.

She's returned my text from earlier with a simple "Okay," and nothing more. But right now, I need to call her.

While I'm still in the gym parking lot, I hurriedly call her through a fit of tears that seems to be never ending. I try to control my breathing when I hold my phone up to my ear, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to make this all go away once again. I close them longer this time, hopeful that maybe it will change the outcome.

Again, it doesn't.

"Hey, you've reached Birdie. I can't come to the phone right now, but—"

"Fuck!" I scream, throwing my phone down on the empty passenger seat beside me before slamming my hands down on my steering wheel.

My head defeatedly falls against it as well, crying helplessly as if it will change anything at all.

"Fuck," I mutter again, the hopelessness taking over.

My stomach is in agonizing pain, my heart to follow.

I don't want to go home.

I don't want to see Birdie.

I don't even want to see Justin.

I want to go somewhere and never come back. I want to throw everything away and start over somewhere else where no one knows me. Where no one can tell me if I'm wrong or right. Where no one can decide anything for me but myself. I want to—

Suddenly my car door opens, and I'm surprised when I look up and see Justin who is leaning over me to pull my keys that are already in the ignition. He's successful in doing so, shoving them in his pocket before prying my hand off the steering wheel.

"Jane, come on," his voice is softer than it was before.

But it doesn't matter to me. The damage is done. Everything he said, the way he treated me rings in my ears like an alarm bell, my skin burning where his hands pushed me away. I don't care what kind of change of heart he's suddenly had. He hurt me.

So I shove his hand away, but he's adamant as he pulls me out of the car by my forearm which ultimately forces me to stand.

"Stop it, Justin," I rip my arm from his grip. "Don't fucking touch me, don't—"

"Come here," he looks down at me sadly, reaching for me again.

"No," I cry, my back hitting my car. "No, don't! Don't—"

I look down at the ground, sobbing with every part of my being while disappointment overtakes me. He stays silent as he watches me cry.

"You don't get to fucking talk to me like that!" I look up at him, feeling the sadness in my eyes pull at the outer corners. "You don't ever talk to me like that!"

He shakes his head, eyes intently scanning mine while regret washes over his beautiful face. His lips are in a frown. He knows the repercussions of what he said.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his hands hesitant but meaningful when they find the sides of my neck. "I'm so sorry, baby. Don't cry. Okay? I just— I don't—"

I can feel my body sink. I'm deep in a pool of my own sorrows, everything and anything feeling like it's going completely wrong.

How could this happen? How could everything be so perfect and suddenly turn sour? Everything was fine. Everything was—

"I'm so scared," he strokes my face. "I don't want anything to happen to us. I really, really care about you. I promise, I do. I'm just afraid."

"I know you're scared. I am too, but I'm trying to protect you and you're not letting me. You're not—"