Bring Me Closer

Closer: Part 1

"Nick," I breathe, in between each kiss. What is he doing? His hands are all over my body as though searching for some hidden treasure. Now kissing my neck, he unzips my jacket. "Nick." I forcefully chuckle. I can feel him smiling on my neck. I shuffle my keys out to open the door. He's now behind me, nibbling my ear. I roll my eyes in annoyance. The door flies open and we both stumble in. The lights on? I look up and see my parents sitting on the couch, staring at the both of us. Nick helps me up and wipes my lipstick off of his mouth.
"Nicholas." My father says in a stern voice. Oh, relax Chad. Nick nervously greets them both. "Mr. and Mrs. Taylor," He maneuvers his way out of the door backward. "I'll call you later Nick." I say rolling my eyes looking back at my parents. Could they be more annoying? I want to know what this is about, and how long it's going to be. They almost never show up here, and when they do, it's because I've screwed up, big time. Damn! I know what this is about. I kick in to immediate ass kissing. "How was the drive? How's Cam?"
"Save it, Charlie." My mom says, most fed up. "We told you that in order to keep this condo, you'd need an extra room mate. Chris isn't here all the time and she's not able to keep up the payments." My mom bids.
Blah, blah. blah. If you want a roommate for me, why don't you go out and find one. I do have a life.
"And because your mom and I are such excellent mind readers, you'll be pleased to hear our next statement." He says. "We went ahead and took it upon ourselves to find you a roommate on some roommate finder social network site. All you have to do is choose between the two. I've met with them both personally, and the one I see most fit is here at the top." He hands me two folders. This is real life.
My sarcasm kicks in. "Well, thanks dad, mom. I feel overwhelmed with inclusion in this, the beginning of my quest to find the ultimate roommate. Thanks for including me." I say, ripping off my leather jacket and walking toward the stairs. I just turned 22, and for my parents to be on my case like this, about a house mate, is quite prickling.
"They'll be waiting for your call, or email by tomorrow afternoon," My mom calls up the stairs. "And if you don't decide, we will."
I hear the door slam and I walk right into the upstairs bathroom. I look in the mirror at my pouty face and run cold water onto my cheeks. With the folders in hand I walk to my room and turn on the string light set that travels along the walls of my room. Unbuttoning my dress, I sit down on my plush mattress and nearly sank in. Where the hell is Chris anyway? I quickly put my hair into a high bun and retrieve my cell phone to text her. 5 missed calls, 4 text messages.

The first text is from Tyla
Did you make it home??

The next ones from Marilla
Let me know if your creep of a bf forces it tonight, love you!

The rest from Nick wondering why my parents showed up tonight, and of course wondering if he can come back over. What makes him think anything's changed? I roll my eyes at the thought. I don't know why, I just don't feel the connection with Nick, you know, enough to have sex with him. I never have, not with anyone. But, of course, persistent Nick, thinks he can make it happen. Not in any forceful way as Marilla so pleasantly expressed before, but you know, trying to seduce me, thinking that maybe this time, I'll be so completely turned on that I'll go through with it. But, it probably won't. I mean, I love him and all but it's all just too much. The thought of it sometimes, makes me quiver. Anyway, I must distract myself. I call Chris, and of course it goes straight to voicemail.
"Chris, what the hell? Mom and dad came over here and they're making us get a roommate. Come home." I honestly don't know what that girls doing. She works at some hospital doing God knows what, she's so secretive. I hang up and throw my phone down after checking the time. 2am. I pick up the two folders and waltz downstairs to the refrigerator to get some ice-cream. I sit both closed folders on the counter and decide to play a quick game of eenie meenie, miney, moe. Okay, whichever one I don't choose will be put into the shredder and forgotten forever. I end up picking the folder on my right side. I smile to myself, walk over to the shredder in Chris' office and stuff the other folder in it and dust off my hands. There's that. I walk back over to the other folder, opening it and eating some ice-cream, straight from the carton. Opening up the folder, I'm completely annoyed immediately. They really go the whole nine, don't they?