Closets Aren't Just For Clothes...

Chapter Twelve.

Chapter Twelve.

So Matt has fooled around with a guy. Why does that sound so...weird to think about. "Can I ask who?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head. "No, he'd kill me," he answers. It's quiet for a couple minutes, but Matt breaks the silence. "I'm, um, sorry, Em, for, um, using you, or, um, trying to use you," he stumbles over his words.

"I never thought that I'd be able to say that I'm getting used by a gay guy," I joke, nudging his arm with my elbow.

Matt chuckles a little. "Especially since you haven't even been used by a straight one," he adds.

I don't know, I kind of felt like Noah used me earlier when he kissed me. "Yeah..." I lie in agreement.

Matt stands up from the bed and holds out a hand. "Let me get you out of here," he says.

I hold out my hand and he pulls me to my feet, dropping my hand once I'm steady. I walk towards the door and he stops me form opening it.

"What are you doing?" Matt asks.

I give him a really confused look. "Leaving...?"

He shakes his head. "The window, I don't want people thinking-"

I smile and open the door. "You think too much," I tell him, walking out, pulling his hand behind me.

If I'm going to be his 'girlfriend', I don't want people to think that I'm one of those prude girls...even though Noah pretty much had it right...I am a prude. I even said that if I had Matt, that I wouldn't be afraid to go all the way, but it's still an issue apparently. I guess thinking is easier than doing. Literally doing.

"Em, you don't have to do this," Matt whispers in my ear.

I nod and whisper back, "I know, but as a gay guy's cover, it's practically in my job description." I care about Matt too much to let people think bad things about him. Especially Hardy. Hardy and him have been friends since the eighth grade, I think. I could be wrong though. "Now go with it, okay?"

He gives me a funny look, but nods anyway. I slyly move Matt's arm around my waist as we reach the middle of the staircase, surprisingly enough, people notice us walking down. I add a little bit of a drunken stumble and I have the party look down solid.

"Matt, dude!" A guy shouts, while practically sprinting towards us. It's Jared, ugh, jerk. Jared the Jerk, there's a reason both Jared and Jerk start with the same letter. "You have to come see this, the Kister Sisters, are practically stripping!" he yells over the music.

Matt looks at me and I shake my head. Here it comes. I step closer, practically rubbing my body against Matt's. "Matty, come on take me home? I'll let you do things to me," I say in a really slutty-girly voice.

Jared's eyes shoot wide open and I can tell that Matt looks shocked too. "You know what, you should take her home and show the lady a nice time, unless of course you'd like me to," Jared winks at me.

I shutter. Ugh. Gross. How do slutty girls stand being so...degrading? I can barely do it for a couple of minutes, let alone actually BE that way ALL the time.

Matt wraps his arms around me and looks at Jared. "Sorry, man, this mine," he grins and we walk off, finally making it outside, into the brisk New York air. Matt immediately moves his arms from me as we walk down the sidewalk, next to the quiet street. "I shouldn't have let you do that."

I wave my hand in the air, saying it's okay. "Puh-lease, he's drunk, he won't remember anything, especially by Monday."

Matt looks at me. "You really don't care if people talk?"