Don't Get Too Close (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

Five: Ending Things On Bad Terms

Five: Ending Things On Bad Terms
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Song of the chapter:
Heart Out by the 1975
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"Thanks a lot. You got me soaked," I groaned sarcastically as I climbed into the passenger seat. After I finally got him to stop spraying me with the hose, we got what we needed with a few added glares from the customers and employees, and then left.

"Hey, you did it to me too, don't act all innocent!" he laughed.

I shot him a glare, and he gave me a smile as if he was proud of himself. I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, immediately wondering how he got me to let my guard down so easily. The only person who really ever heard me talk was Mark.

What made Justin so special as to get me to talk?

"You have a nice voice, you know." Justin declared, interrupting my thoughts. I looked over at him as his eyes stayed focused on the road. Is that why he was looking at me on the way to the store?

I asked him.

"Yeah. You should sing more," he added. Usually that would flatter someone, but I was kind of embarrassed. At first I wasn't at all-- singing in front of him, that is-- but since I knew that he was listening and he liked it, it felt odd to me. No one knew that I liked to sing. It wasn't something I wanted to do when I was older, but it was a nice outlet, like I said. "Actually," he started. "you should talk more in general."

I shrugged my shoulders to try to hide how I felt, and I looked out the front window like he did.

To change the subject, I asked him something else that I was sort of curious about. It wasn't eating-me-alive-curious, I was just wondering.

"Is that lady you live with your mom?" I questioned, turning my head to him as I brought my knees up and rested them on the glove compartment while I rested my hands on my thighs.

He nodded, keeping his eyes in front. "Yeah."

"And you only live with her?"

Usually I wasn't this talkative but since he pointed it out, I was feeling a little self conscious.

He nodded again. I didn't ask him out loud, but I was curious to know what happened to his dad. Divorce maybe? Death? I didn't know and I wasn't about to ask any time soon. Because I knew that if I did, he would feel obligated (or maybe he really wanted to know) to ask me about my parents. Of course, everyone at school thought Mark was my dad. No one knew about my past but Mark, my mom, my dad, and me. No one else needed to know because like I said over and over, it's unnecessary. Why would I bother to tell people something when it's none of their business?

So from there, I just assumed he didn't have any brothers and sisters either. I left it alone because I hated being bothered about those kinds of things, too. Of course, that was just me assuming things in my head. For all I knew, he had a full house of brothers and sisters and his family is perfect in every way.

"Do you like it here?" I asked. I felt obligated to ask him questions to avoid any awkwardness. I didn't care before, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to actually end a conversation on a good note with someone.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess. I've only been here a week and the only person I know is my mom." he chuckled.

In all seriousness, I looked out the side window. "You know me, now."

I wasn't sure if he was looking at me or not since I was looking out the window, but I couldn't help but have that feeling that someone's eyes were on me. I rested the side of my head in my hand, my elbow propped up on the ledge of the open window.