Crash ~Justin Bieber~

Chapter 77 ~ Around My Neck, Part 1

(Randy's POV)

William used to tell me that you never really knew an army's strength while you walked amongst the soldiers.

He said that you needed to be shot at, before you learnt your gunman's aim. And you needed to be hunted, before you learnt your trackers instinct.

William said you couldn't learn any of these things from the inside looking out. It didn't work like that. It couldn't. Fellow soldiers don't shoot at each other.

"If you want to know an armies strength, befriend and betray them all at once. Throw yourself on the outside; face your army head on. Try to fight your way back in. Try to test the walls you once hid behind. Be the enemy not the friend. Be the hated and not the loved. Then you'll learn your army's strength. Then you'll learn your old leaders capabilities. Because no army fights as viciously, and no leader demands as much, as the army fighting the traitor, and the leader seeking revenge"

~*~

(Rachel's POV)

I often thought about my first night at Fear Factor.

That was the night when all of my fears proved true.

I crawled into Justin's bed and panicked about sex. I told him that I felt out of place, scared, and alone in a constant game of catch up.

Monet had made me realize the things that I didn't think about before. Justin had experience with sex and relationships and in comparison I had nothing. I was a fifteen-year-old girl who had been in love once, with the same boy I was in love with now.

Sex scared me, and so did the thought of boring Justin.

But Justin said that I didn't need to be afraid. He said he wanted to teach me all of the things I didn't know, and he was happy that it wasn't some other guy, he wanted it to be him.

So far he had made good on his promise. I learnt things from Justin all the time. I learnt them every day and every night. Playing catch up wasn't so bad after all.

Sometimes the lessons were simple. Sometimes we would be driving and he would just reach over and put his hand on my thigh. And sometimes the lessons were heavier. Sometimes he would take my hand and put it on his leg. He would encourage me to go further.

Every lesson felt frightening at first. I doubted what to do and I got shy with attention. But Justin made the teaching easy. If I was too scared to touch him he would put his hand over mine. He would guide me until I was ready for him to let go, and then I would do the rest by myself.

I was glad that Justin was also my lifelong friend. I knew that some girls didn't have the luxury of a boyfriend as patient as him. When it came to sex they faced humiliation, embarrassment and rejection at every turn. They had drunken nights and regretful mistakes to learn from. They were the football player's victory, or his best friends locker-room joke.

Even long-term boyfriends expected experience of some kind. Guys like Justin weren't easy to stumble upon, and I had found him when I was four.

"Justin?"

"Mmm?"

"What happens when a girls good at sex - and she does have experience?"

He checked the road and then looked back at me. It was close to three am but the roads were still busy after Hen's party.

"If she's good - then guys call her a slut - or a whore"

"And they talk about her?"

"Yeah - they'll tell their mates everything that she did"