Those Batman Panties

Chapter 11

Okaysises, so since everyone who commented(seriously, 22 people read the last chapter and only two commented? WTF?) wanted it to be Austin's POV, so I did that.

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Austin's POV

I think I'm in love with Danika.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit

I don't know when this happened to me. I'm Austin fucking Pluss! And Danika... Well, let's just say that she isn't exactly what I pictured to be my perfect woman.

Nope. She's better.

See? What is this black magic?

This is the reason I couldn't have sex with Ingrid. I didn't even get in her pants. I felt her breasts through her shirt(not even her bra!), but I couldn't go further. That damned voice in my head wouldn't let me. Or my hands. Or my eyes. Or, well, anything. I just couldn't do it. (Which got Ingrid totally pissed, but I'm sure she'll say we had sex anyway).

I just kept seeing her damn crying face. I swear, that face is seriously killing me. And it's not like I didn't try talking to her. After 5th period, I scoped around looking for her. I even went to that nerdy comic book store. This dude told me she wasn't there. And I tried calling her house, but no one answered.

I considered going over there, but then my consiousness kicked in. Why am I bothering? Didn't I have her wrapped around my little finger like, 6 hours ago? This is why girls need a fricken' manuel. So here I am, at home, for whatever reason.

I felt like partying, like playing a football game, like doing anything to keep my mind away from the obvious. I was laying on my bed, my arms behind my head. I kinda wanna call again... I think, before sighing.

Now here are the reasons I really don't want to call. 

1.) She might not pick up, and I'll have to ask to talk to her.

2.) She's still crying.(I doubt it, but you never know.)

3.) Sam picks up. (Oh, God.)

4.) Cathy picks up. (Bigger oh God.)

5.) She does pick up. (Biggest oh God.)

So, obviously, I shouldn't call. I mean, what would I say? I guess I want to apologize, but I certainly do not want to...I don't know, appear weak? Jesus. Okay, whatever. I'm not calling. I am not calling her.

So, naturally, I picked up the phone and dialed the number.

It rang three times before I heard a click of a button.

"Hello, Cathy speaking, Walker residance. How may I assist you?" Bigger oh God. 

I press myself to talk, but I don't. I can't make myself speak, and I wonder if this is what it's like for Jeremey or some other nerd. Oh! Jeremey!

"Helloooo?" Cathy says, her voice as soft and clean cut as ever. I cough, trying to make my voice higher.

"Um, this is Jeremey? Jeremey..." Shit, what's his last name? C-something. Clinton? Yeah, sure. "...Clinton." I say.

"Jeremey? What's wrong with your voice?" Crap. Cathy isn't as clueless as she looks. At least she bought the Clinton thing.

"I, uh, have a cough." Insert fake cough here. "Is....Danika there?" I hear whispering.

"Sorry, Jeremey, she doesn't want to talk. Is there a messa-"

"I need to talk to her."