I Was Saved... by the Jerkface

Quality Time... Oh Yay?

I kept my arm looped through his all the way down the stairs into the subway tunnels. It wasn't until I'd warmed up fully that I reluctantly let go, and even that was mostly because we had boarded the train already and she was staring at our arms pointedly. Blake didn't seem to notice much.

He was actually glancing over at a young couple that had boarded just ahead of us, a little baby in the mother's arms. Blake had a concentrated look on his face, and I wanted to know what he was thinking. His concentrated expression turned to one of worry, and then he turned his head towards me. I looked away quickly, afraid that he had caught me staring, but I knew he had. My cheeks flamed a bright pink as I tried to look everywhere but at his smirking, perfect face.

It still baffled my mind, even though I'd been around him for over twenty-four hours now, how stunningly perfect he was. It wasn't that I was head-over-heels in love with him or anything, it just amazed me that someone could be so handsome and not even have to try. I was sure he didn't use any skin care crap, or do anything to his hair other than wash it, but his skin was perfect and there wasn't a hair out of place on his head. And don't get me started on those eyes. His parents must have been Greek gods or something.

We came our stop, and my mom walked ahead of us once again, eager to be home. It was already four thirty, and she had to get dinner started.

I remembered Blake saying that his dad lived somewhere down the street from us... or something like that, but my mom was being unusually careless. What if Blake had to walk a long way to get home? I would feel bad if we made him do that.

"Hey, do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked him, not about to let him walk home. That would just be rude. My mom glanced back, hearing my question. "If that's okay with you, mom."

"Sure, I don't see why not," she said, continuing on her way.

"Okay, I don't think my dad will mind. I'll give him a call when we get to your place," he told me. I was glad that I invited him, because that brought a small smile to his face.

We arrived at our apartment building, and Blake whistled. I could see on his face that he thought we were incredibly rich people. I couldn't, however, tell if he thought we were snobs or not. That would just be awful.

We went into the building, and my mom pressed the highest button on the elevator wall. Blake watched as she did this, looking at me. I gave him a half smile, shrugging. I couldn't help it if he thought we were stuck up rich people, but if at all possible I wanted to avoid that. It's not like I flaunted my parents' money in anyone's face.

Once inside our apartment, I turned to Blake, hoping this wasn't awkward for him. My dad wasn't home yet, which I was grateful for - at least I would have some time with Blake without being embarrassed. It wasn't that I was embarrassed by my dad, but that he took every opportunity to embarrass me. It wasn't always funny, but sometimes I just had to remind myself that he was only trying to make me laugh.

"So, uh, you can make yourself at home. My mom's going to start dinner soon, so I hope you're hungry," I told him, smiling and trying not to make him feel out of place.

My efforts were for naught, though, because as usual he looked completely cool and collected as he shrugged his jacket off and laid it on the coat rack in the entry way.

"Yeah, I'm hungry," he laughed softly. "Does your mom cook a lot?"

I nodded. "Most of the time. Except when my parents are away, of course."

"Away?" he asked, sweeping his eyes across the room. I assumed he was taking it all in - at least, that's what most people do.

"They go out on business a lot," I told him.