Justin gets into his car and turns the radio on with a gentle push of the button. He has his album on repeat. PYD comes on and I shiver at the noise coming from the speakers. Okay, it's not bad, it's actually kind of good, but if you don't like Justin then you just can't like his music. It's like a law.
Justin looks over at me and smirks at my tense position, "What's wrong?" He asks.
"Nothing, Go away," I reply.
"Ummmm, I'm driving," He says and laughs.
I feel my cheeks turn red from embarrassment.
"Awe, that's adorable," Justin says, not taking his eyes away from the road.
"What?" I ask, eagerly looking out the window, hoping that he waa talking about a bunny, because I love bunnies.
He laughs once again. "I was talking about you blushing."
"I wasn't blushing," I snap and turn my head to the window.
I can see him smirking from the corner of my eye. Oh how I hate that boy and nothing ca change that: nothing will ever change that. A few minutes pass and I can feel the awkward silence in the air. I can hear his breathing-it's quiet and almost sounds like a song. What am i saying? I'm making him sound like a sweet person . . .
He pulls into my driveway and I run out of the car before anything could be said. I don't want him to think that he's welcome. I run up to my front door and open it slowly, glancing back at him pulling out of the driveway, nothing more. He didn't try and stop me. He didn't want to talk.
I guess I do like him, although I will never admit it. It honestly doesn't feel like I like Justin, but the signs say I do. I feel guilty that I left without saying thank you, or at least goodbye. I also don't want him to leave, I wanted him to stop me from leaving, just so that we can talk. I want to give him a chance, and I guess at first I really didn't like him. The fact that he let me sleep in the hospital, and the part where he drove me home, and didn't try to keep me with him when I left-those are the parts that made me love him.
When I got inside, I decided to do my homework from today and I had some dinner. I felt super tired by about ten and decided to go to sleep. I check my phone before I lay down, and look through my contacts. As i pass over the 'J' names, I feel sadness wash over me. I wish his name was there; I wish I had asked him for his number.
I lay in bed and stare at my ceeling.
I want him, and I want him to want me.
