The Boy Next Door - A Justin Bieber Fan Fic

Chaoter 7

A couple of days had past since my outing with Justin but I had filled my time getting acclimated with my new home and town. Calabasas was turning out to be a really fun place to live and I had begun to come to terms with the fact that this was now my permanent home. I had gotten to know a lot of my neighbors, but one remained a mystery. My parents were spending a lot of time working and often left me home alone day after day. Today was one of those days.

Sitting on the window seats in my room, I gazed out the window towards Justin's house. The right side of his house was directly across from my window and I could see through one of the windows into what looked like a bedroom, making this 'boy next door' cliche even more relevant. The lights in his house were off so I figured he was out already even though it was only 10:30 am. The soft light filtering through the window cast patterns onto my legs and I traced them with my fingers. Drifting into an absentminded day dream, I was startled when my phone chimed signaling a new text. It appeared to be from a blocked number, I figured I knew exactly who it was. I slid my finger across the screen unlocking the phone, seeing the cheerful "Hey :)" popped up on the screen. I was right, I knew exactly who it was, and I was sitting right across from his house.

Justin had been texting me on a regular basis since I last saw him, sending me occasional good morning texts and just chatting with me about how I liked California, getting to know me better. Every time Justin texted me, I thought about my responses so deeply, wanting to make a good impression. Most people would say to just be myself, but when texting an extremely attractive, charming teen heartthrob, that was a little hard. I wanted him to like me. I texted back a simple hey, trying to come off casual. I was glad he texted me, I was honestly really bored. It was summer break so I wasn't in school and that made it really difficult to make new friends.

I moved off my window seat and stood on the plush carpet in the middle of my room trying to think of something to do. Seeing nothing interesting, I headed down stairs. Once I reached the eerily quiet main floor, I continued on into the basement. I passed the spa my mom had been working on, grabbed a soda out of the bar fridge, and moved into our home theater. Thanks to the hard work of many moving trucks and workers, our belongings had been successfully transferred into the house and our thousands of movies were neatly lined on shelfs in the theater. I let my fingers linger on the many big titles, and pulled out my movie of choice, Bridesmaids. I had just began to set it up when my phone vibrated. I eagerly pulled it out of my back pocket, but much to my disappointment, it was only a text from my mom letting me know that they were out running errands and would be going to a party after that would keep them out long past midnight. I slid the phone back into my pocket and set up the movie. I plopped into the first row of red plush leather recliners that filled the room, and pulled a blanket over my legs. The movie started up, but my mind was still focused on my phone, hoping that any minute it would light up and I would have a text from Justin. I made it through half the movie, occasionally checking my phone for new texts, until I got a text right around the time Kristin Wiig and Maya Rudolph got in their movie fight. With angry voices blaring from the speakers, I desperately grabbed my phone from the cup holder and unlocked it as fast as my fingers could manage. It was another text from Justin's blocked number explaining his hour long absence.

"sorry it took me so long. I fell asleep" That was all it said. Just that, nothing more. How was I supposed to respond to that? Luckily, another text came in while I was nervously debating my response.

"I just got my pool cleaned. Want to be the first one to swim in it?" That was better, a lot better actually. However, once the reality of what he was actually asking me hit, I was back to a nervous mess. I wasn't doing anything so obviously the answer was yes but how in the world was I going to managing swimming with Justin Bieber. I would get to see his famous 6-pack in person and he would seem me in a very exposed condition.

Giddy and excited, I slammed the remote shutting off the movie, stood and sprinted out of the theater. I took on the stairs two at a time sliding on the marble when I made it to the main floor. Adrenalin pumping through my veins, I conquered the second set of stairs and skidded into my room. I immediately started looking for the perfect bikini, which conveniently ended up being a pink, purple, and teal, patterned push up bikini. I slipped that on with a white sheer cover up and applied waterproof mascara and foundation. Grabbing my flip flops and phone, I hurried out the front door, around the front walk and down the drive way.

I reached the street and turned left, heading towards Justin's house. I neared his massive house, in awe of the size and design. I reached his stairs, pausing to take a deep breath in attempt to calm myself. Once I was calm as possible for a girl going to Justin Bieber's house, I made my way up the stairs leading to his front door. The moment I stepped onto his porch, my heart began to pound, my legs and hands shook, and I froze. A millions thoughts ran thought my head; what if he had been joking, what if I'm not the only girl he invited, what if my dad is making him invite me places, what if he doesn't like me? I shot my hand forward and forcefully knocked on the door, shutting off my rapid thoughts. The time following my knock seemed like decades, I waited fidgeting with my hands, and shifting my weight from one foot to the next. I had been waiting so long that I figured he wasn't home, so I turned to leave. The sound of footsteps stopped me, getting closer and louder, halting at the other side of the door. The doorknob turned and whoever was behind that big piece of wood, slowly pulled it open letting light into the dark house.