Coder Girl 2 /Dreamwastaken/

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I couldn't force myself to sleep. Not when I kept mentally replaying the mini argument we just had and judging every single statement I made because I kept coming up with better responses now. I couldn't believe he called me a bitch, and I didn't say anything. I should've at least called him a cunt.

Deep in thoughts, I heard Nick knock before opening the door and coming in. I really couldn't see the point of knocking when he literally walked in a millisecond after doing so. If I had been naked, the time he gave me for reacting would only be enough to accept the fact that he's about to see my tits and much more impressive things.

My gaze followed him silently as he took a seat on the corner of my- no, George's bed. The bed creaked heavily, and I took it as a sign to sit up.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Would kill him if dead bodies didn't scare me." I frowned, hugging my knees to make more room for Nick's body. He was slowly but surely taking up the bed horizontally right in the middle, making sure to utilize the space as inefficiently as he could.

"Why though?" Propping himself on one elbow, he looked up. "I mean, yeah, it's kinda stupid that they went out to get drunk. But they're okay and didn't do anything stupid."

"How are you so sure about that?" I furrowed my brows.

"The okay part or the doing something stupid?" Nick looked at me with a questioning gaze, narrowing his eyes to get a sharper view of my facial expression as he leaned closer. "Are you worried about other girls?"

The mental image of Clay even looking at other girls was enough to make my face contort with disgust. It was something so unnatural and unbelievable to me that I couldn't even consider the idea as a possibility.

"No, I'm not worried about him cheating."

"It's not cheating if you've broken up."

Daggers. That's what his words felt like. Sharp cuts all across my chest and a shockwave running down my back. He successfully unlocked a new fear.

"It's... What? No, it's still wrong," I quickly spoke.

"Why? I don't see how it's wrong if you're not dating anymore." He was clearly, very obviously pushing my buttons.

"What? It is very wrong!" I shifted in my seat, "I don't know how you don't see how wrong that is."

Nick repositioned himself on his elbow, shifting as well to level our heads. He cleared his throat as if he was about to deliver a speech.

"Alright, let's imagine this," Nick began, using his hands to explain, "hypothetically, listen - like hypothetically..." I knew it was about to get diabolical when he pulled out the big words, "If you fuck somebody right now. Like right now. And Clay walks in and gets mad. Aren't you gonna yell at him that it's none of his business cause you're no longer dating?"

"First of all, ew, cause the only option I have right now is you," I cringed, "and second of all, that's a stupid example to prove a point."

"First of all, there was no self insert in there, and you're the one who made it weird," Nick rolled his eyes, "and second of all, I said hypothetically for a reason, dumbass. Just try to imagine the scenario. It'll make sense eventually."

I struggled to imagine it as hard as I tried. It wasn't something I ever considered, wanted to consider, or had the wish to visualize. To me, it was Clay or no one.

But just for the case of the proving a point.

"Hypothetically, yes, but my point is that I don't want to fuck anyone else and am definitely not going to fuck anyone else cause it's weird, gross and wrong."

"Yeah, but that's like a personal preference at that point, no? All I'm saying is that's like a... you problem, you know? I mean, if you're uncomfortable doing it, fine, don't do it. But it doesn't mean everyone else is."

I raised a brow, "Who's everyone else?"

"Well, if my girlfriend dumped me, I wouldn't care about whatever morals you're talking about. I'd go out and have fun for sure. I'm a free man at that point," he was so sure and casual about it, "and what I'm saying is same goes for Clay. Just because you don't want to do it doesn't mean you should be mad at him if he-"

"Alright, enough." My blood was already boiling when he started to speak, and by the end of his sentence, it started evaporating, "I'm going to sleep. I'm tired."

My last statement had one truth and one lie.

I tucked myself in and tried to not pay too much attention to him as he got up to leave. But I could see that damn smirk and look of fulfillment on his face.

"Night night, idiot," Nick laughed softly, flicking the light off before leaving. "And don't take my words too close to heart. For him, it's only you."

Yeah, sure. As if that's gonna help.

"Goodnight." I mumbled.

And thanks for unlocking a new fear.

I twisted and turned till morning and only fell asleep at the sunrise. It was no surprise that I woke up in the middle of the day, but it was a surprise that I woke up because of the damn car engine.

At first, I was annoyed, thinking who the hell could it be disturbing my sleep like that. And then I realized that the answer to my question was obvious. I jumped up from the bed and ran to the window. Clay was pulling his car out of the garage. George was with him again. It looked like another night of bad decisions was awaiting them, and it felt like my head was about to light on fire from anger.

I ran to Nick's room. Again, without a hi or a how are you, I attacked.

"They left!"

"Pft. Good for them." Somebody was busy playing a shooting game and didn't care to even look at me.

"Bad for me!" I put my hand on my chest, "Where the fuck did they go? Aren't they like hungover or something? Who parties two days in a row! And it's afternoon!?"

"They're living the life, leave them alone," he chuckled, "I might even join them tomorrow."

The fact that he wasn't matching my reaction made me feel left out and even more angry. Yes, I was jealous. Yes, I'd rather die than even try to imagine Clay dancing with another girl.

I ended up doing what I told myself not to do.

Imaginary scenarios were flashing before of my eyes like an insane flipbook. Dozens of girls giggling and dancing against him, pressing their bodies close, flirting, getting drunk with him, making out and-

"You're not joining them," I blurted out, "you're joining me. We're going clubbing. Get up."

I don't think anything else was capable of making him snap out of the game that quickly.

"For real?" He raised a brow.

"Yeah," I tried to sound carefree, but it was obvious how my voice was laced with impulse, boiling anger, and overflowing jealousy, "find a place to go. I'll be ready in like two hours."