Been You

Chapter 13: Ruin Plans With Me

ELYSANDRA'S POV:

Every thing is almost perfect. The popcorn is popped. The blankets and pillows are set up in front of the television. The only thing left for me to do is put the candy out. I pull out the boxes of candy from the plastic bag from the local convenience store; sour patch kids for Justin and gummy bears for me. I've set up the perfect Netflix and Chill to thank Justin for being there for me last night. And for saving my life. And as a second chance for him to make a move on me, since he did admit to having feelings for me last night. At least, I think he did. The actual events of last night are a little blurry, possibly due to the wine, possibly due to the lack of oxygen to my brain, possibly due to emotional trauma. But let's just go with the wine.

My stomach flips when I hear Justin's key in the door. I lay the candy down on the coffee table, and turn to face the door, my hands nervously fidgeting behind my back.

"Hey, Justin, I thought-" I stop myself when I realize he's not alone. Behind him, a beautiful brunette walks in. Who is this? I don't recognize her at all, but she's breathtaking. Her brown hair falls perfectly in large waves full of body. Her waist is much tinier than mine. Her facial features are soft and delicate. A pang of jealousy strikes me. My eyes burn the way they do before tears fall. My throat goes dry.

"What's all this, E?" Justin asks, happily intrigued by my setup, his company unaware of my emotional state.

"I was just... I don't know, I thought we could maybe watch some movies or something, but it's cool, I see that you're busy, I'm just gonna go," I struggle to get out.

"Wait, Ely-" Justin says, worry in his voice, until the brunette interrupts.

"Oh, Justin, your roommate is so nice, I'm Selena," the brunette says, her tone patronizing. Suddenly, I feel the urge to punch her. I don't though, because I'm not Justin.

"Selena, Ely's not my roommate, she's my..." Justin trails off, obviously unaware of where we stand. The silence is deafening as Selena and I both wait for him to define our relationship.

"Friend," I say. Of course I want more, but not this way. I don't want him to date me because he feels pressured or obligated to date me. I want him to choose me, fully and freely. Besides, I don't wanna ruin what he's got going with Selena. "Best friend, actually," I specify. The look on Justin's face is impossible for me to read. It's somewhere in between concern, guilt, and disappointment. I force a smile to let him know it's okay. "So, Selena, how do you know Justin?" I ask aloud. And why are you here, I ask internally.

"We have Psych together! Justin was late to class, so I just wanted to catch him up on what he missed!" She answers, so enthusiastically that I can feel a migraine coming on.

"So... you're just gonna give him your notebook? Or email him the notes?" I ask, running out of patience and tolerance.

"Oh. Well, I was gonna go over them with him, just to make sure he understood them, but I guess I could just lend him my book if -" Selena says, caught off guard by my sudden bluntness.

"Yeah, that'd be great, Selena, thanks," Justin cut in. His eagerness for her to leave somewhat comforts me. Maybe I don't need to feel threatened.

Disappointedly, Selena hands him her notebook, pink, sparkly, and covered with Lisa Frank stickers. Who is this girl?

"Thanks, Selena. I'll return it in class on Thursday, okay?" He asks with that winning smile that'll cheer up anyone, especially girls.

"Sure, see you!" She says, her voice so high pitched that only dogs should be able to hear. Justin nods to say goodbye, and shows her out. Once she's gone, he comes back over to me.

"I am so sorry. About everything. Leaving you this morning, bringing her here, the whole just friends thing... everything. Please don't be mad?" He asks, his face pleading. I'm shocked, not only at his willingness to apologize, but also at his ability to realize when he's messed up. Most guys are oblivious. It's not like he wasn't such a good guy before all the romantic feelings started swirling, but not it's different. Now, it feels like he prioritizes me. I feel warm at the thought. He deserves to be let off the hook.

"You don't need to be sorry, J," I start. "First of all, I knew you had class, it's totally fine that you left. Second, you need your notes. You can get them from whomever you need to. Third, we are friends, there's no need to apologize. You're fine," I say, honestly. He takes a large step toward me, closing the gap, leaving us millimeters apart. I can feel his breath on me.

"I don't wanna be friends," he whispers, his honey colored eyes never breaking from mine. I open my mouth to respond, but this time, it's me who is left speechless.