*NOTE: In the mood to laugh? DEFINITELY Check out the Audiobook version of this chapter voiced by kaelking12 (Kristen Maglonzo)!  Just click the Youtube video play button to listen while you read! Featuring music by Coldplay, Fallout Boy, Treaty of Paris, Trading Yesterday, Flyleaf, Gangs of Ballet, & Arctic Monkeys.

Elias 

"Sure, but I'm a burn victim. There's this thing called TV and if you actually watched it, you'd know that burn victims are top priority."

She rolls her eyes which last time I checked was code for me winning.

"This isn't Grey's Anatomy, Elias. And for the record, getting coffee spilled on your crotch hardly qualifies you as a burn victim as I'm sure Dr. Garrett will inform you once he looks at your--your--situation."

Her cheeks flood red too fast for her to hide it. Good to know she still feels human emotions.

"So, why not let him do it now? A couple minutes of patience wouldn't kill you," I say.

"I'm sorry but I have better things to do than wait around and watch you have your scrotum examined. If you were a decent human being, you'd understand that. You'd also have enough manners to let a lady go first," she says.

I could be mature and let her have what she wants, but I've still got a good ten years until I have to adult so screw that.

"What lady? I don't see any ladies around here. There's just you."

Jersey's eyes double in size before shrinking back into murder slits.

"You are so lucky someone else is in the room right now, Elias, 'cause if there wasn't I'd--"

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but can I make a suggestion to solve your problem?"Dr. Garrett reaches into his lab coat and pulls a shiny new quarter out of his pocket. I nearly stop breathing and from the looks of it, Jersey has too, 'cause she's dead quiet and unnaturally still.

"Heads or tails, young lady," he asks.

"Tails."

Typical.

"Alright then, it's heads for Mr. King. Here we go!"

"Actually can we not do this? I really hate coin tosses and I--"

Jersey's begging comes a couple seconds too late, 'cause Dr. Garrett calls out heads as the winner before she can stop him.

"Boom! Heads! Kings never lose baby!"

Biggest lie of the day, but I'm strutting around the room bragging like it's true because my inner insecure asshole just can't seem to help himself.

"Go screw yourself, Elias."

"Oh trust me, I do. Daily. But maybe not . No, thanks to you."

Jersey responds to me with some kind of vomiting noise and then flips me the bird, before grabbing her iPod and sticking in her headphones to drown me out.

As easy as it to slip back into arguing with her, my stomachs tying itself into knots the more distant she gets.

I want her to stay. To stick around as long as she feels like she has to, even though I don't have the right to make her.

I open my mouth and say stupid shit to her 'cause it's an excuse for us to talk.

Even if we're fighting.

But if I keep screwing up like this, she'll leave.

Scariest part is knowing that even if I played my cards right and keep things polite and peaceful, she'd probably still walk away.

"Mr. King, if you're ready now, I'd like you to change into this and hop on the table. I'll step out of the room while you change."

"Sure but what about her?" I ask.

He hands me a folded piece of paper that looks like a blue and white spotted napkin and then heads towards the door.

"I was just about to invite her to step outside with me."

The hell he will.

"Don't bother. We've--you know--in the past, so I'm pretty sure she won't mind. She's comfortable with seeing the birthday suit, if you know what I mean, Dr. G."

He breaks into a toothy smile and steps halfway out into the hall.

"I figured. In my professional opinion, ya'll need to 'work' out your problems, if you know what I mean. See you in a minute."

The second he shuts the door, Jersey jerks her head up and stares at me with a familiar furrow digging a trench between her eyebrows.

"Where'd he go?" She screams.

Her headphones are so loud I don't even have to eavesdrop to make out the lyrics to whatever punk rock chick band she's listening to. I wait for her to turn off her music or pop out an ear bud so she can hear my answer, but she doesn't. I'm pretty sure if I told her the building was burning she'd ignore it just because it came out of my mouth.

"Outside for a minute," I say, but she's too busy staring at her screen to put in any effort to read my lips.

"I'm gonna take off all my clothes. Leave now or forever hold your peace!" I say.

She doesn't budge.

Oh well.

She can't say I didn't warn her.

I pull off my shirt and toss it on the floor in front of me. I stand there for a couple seconds, waiting for her to notice something. Anything. But she doesn't. So I work a little harder.

I kick my Vans shoes off a foot at a time, and when the smack of their soles hitting the ground doesn't snap her out of it, I resort to grody tactics.

Now, if there's one thing my mom couldn't stand when I lived with her up north, it was handling my dirty socks on laundry day. I'm not saying I've got the worst smelling feet in the world, Tanner's are a nightmare, but mine are still pretty bad. Especially if you're not used to them, and Jersey's not.

I pull off my socks and ball them in my hand, before carefully inching my away out of the rest of my clothes aside from my boxers.

I stand there, just about naked, desperate, ready to do just about anything to get her attention. So I cross the kind of line I never thought I'd cross and launch my stink bomb socks straight at her face.Jersey's iPod hits the floor.

Her eyes slam shut, and her mouth drops open like she's been poisoned. Technically, she has.

Ha.

Ignore me now.

"Elias, what the hell are you--?"

Her mouth stops moving, but her eyes don't. They slip down from my face across my chest and then land somewhere that leaves her face hot chili red.

Yep.

She still wants me.

Eat it, Kai.

A slow smile spreads across my face for all the wrong reasons. I regret it the second she sees the smugness pulling at my lips.

This.

This is--

--pathetic.

Stupid.

Needy to the point where I couldn't even stop myself from forcing her into a situation she shouldn't be in.

She has a boyfriend.

Someone who'd be pissed at me for pulling something like this.

But half of me doesn't care.

Half of me's so damn selfish and sick that he stripped out of his clothes just to see if she'd pay attention.

And she did.

She still is.

But it's not the kind I wanted.

She's angry.

I see it in her eyes, I feel it in the way she's practically teetering on the edge of bolting out of her chair.

I messed up.

What I did was messed up.

And I don't even have an excuse.

"Why wouldn't you tell me you were changing, Elias?"

"I did!"

Honest.

"No you didn't! Otherwise I wouldn't be in here feeling super uncomfortable now, would I?"

I fold my arms across my chest and glare at her. If seeing me shirtless has her uncomfortable, then I'm not the only guilty one in this situation.

"I tried to tell you, Jersey, but you were too busy listening to angry chick rock to hear me! What do you want me to do next time? Hire a marching band to get your attention?"

Shut your stupid mouth, Elias.

"If that's what it takes, then yes. Please do."

She leans back in her chair and locks her eyes on me like she expects me to stand there and take her attitude. Not gonna happen.

"You know what, Jersey? It's sad that I've spent all day trying to talk to you, trying to reach you and all you wanna do is blow me off. Unless, I'm shirtless of course, then you pay attention!"

"I'm sorry, are you confusing me being shocked to see you basically naked with attraction? I have a boyfriend, Elias. He has my attention, and he doesn't even have to take his shirt off."

Okay. I'm done.

"Good for him! I'm glad he's making you so happy, Jersey. You're glowing. Really."

She flips me the bird again. I'm not even bothered by it.

"Aw, thanks. Can't say the same for you though. How's your love life going? Catch any STDs yet? They'll probably be the longest term relationships you ever have."

She pouts her lips at me and then breaks into a laugh like she's some kind of she devil.

"It's good. Great actually. I have a girlfriend now, so don't get this whole 'Letters to Jersey' thing twisted. You and me ended last summer."

I regret that lie the second it slips out of my mouth, but it's too late to stop it. Her eyes cut away from mine and for a split second I catch the same kind of bitterness I've been struggling to dealing with, come to life in her.

"Oh."

She says. Suddenly her voice is shallow, empty, not even half as loud and angry as it was before I lied. I gotta stop lying to her. It only ever fucks things up.

"Yeah, she's long distance, but we've been making it work since last year."

She sits up straighter than straight in her chair and folds her hands across her lap.

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you. Does this girlfriend have a name?"

Shit.

"Dan."

"Your girlfriend's name is Dan?"

What are you doing, E!?

"Daniella. She lives in San Francisco, near my mom. They're super close."

I don't know where this conversation's going but, it needs to stop. Now. Before I make things--

"That's nice. Did you tell your mom you were 'just friends' when you first started dating too or did she already have the title?"

How the hell does she even remember that? The only reason I didn't tell my mom Alex was my girlfriend when she showed up in San Diego was because I wasn't ready to at the time.

Did I want Alex to be my girlfriend back then? Yes.

Was I too scared to admit it?

Fuck yeah.

Do I regret not telling her how I felt about her sooner?

Everyday. Every single fucking day.

"I don't--really remember. It's all been such a rush I--"

"It's fine. I don't care anyway. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to step outside and let you finish changing before I see anything else I don't want to."

She gets up out of her chair and scuffles towards the door, but Dr. Garrett opens it before she can escape.

"Not changed yet, Mr. King?"

I tear my eyes away from Jersey and over to him. His whole forehead's slathered in sweat like he just came back from a run.

"No, I was just--"

"Please do. I'm sorry to rush you, but my wife's in labor, and I just got the call. We're gonna have to make this appointment quick."

I remember when that was me. When I went flying outta my house and zoomed through San Francisco just to find out that I didn't have a daughter at all. My nerves start frying just thinking about it, so I shift my focus back to Jersey, just to calm myself down. 

But she's in chaos. Her eyes are laser focused on the door, and she's doing everything she can to keep a straight face. But I see the cracks. All the little chinks in her armor she doesn't want me to.

I just wish I knew why they were there.

Maybe, I already do.

"Oh, congratulations, Dr. Garrett! If you want to cancel our slot, that's fine! I can come back another time!" Alex says.

Garrett snatches a pair of green gloves off the counter next to her and heads straight for me.

"That's alright, young lady. I've got enough time for you two before I go. Strip down, Mr. King. We've gotta get started."

Normally, I'd have no problem getting naked. As a matter of fact I'm usually pretty proud of it, but doing it in front of Jersey like this is a different story.

First of all, there's no sultry music on.

There's no 'mood'.

There's no dimmed lights.

Everything in this room is fucking fluorescent and bright and--

"Let's go, young man! Or I'll have to examine you without the gown to save time."

Which is worse? Standing in front of Jersey in a paper dress or naked.

Hm.

Definitely the dress.

"Forget the gown, let's do this."

My eyes cut over to Jersey at the one moment they shouldn't only to find her staring directly at me with a hideous smile on her face.

I shut my eyes. Swallow my dignity. And pull myself out of my boxers.

Somebody gasps from across the room, and for a couple seconds I can't tell if it's Dr. Garrett or Jersey. 

But the second I force myself to find out, I see her standing there with her hand over her mouth like she's just seen a ghost.

I mean, it has been a while.

Last time we were together-together, she didn't see it-see it, she just touched it at first and then felt it later. Maybe seeing the Little King in the flesh like this is too weird for her. The little guy and I have had such a beautiful relationship over the years, pretty much nothing about the way he looks could phase me--

"Dear, sweet Lord those are swollen. Are you sure you're alright to stand, Mr. King?"

Dr. Garrett's got worried lines written across his face which doesn't do my panic problems any favors.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Is it that bad, doc?"

"I've seen worse, and these types of injuries tend to look a lot more terrible than they are, but why don't you take a gander for yourself."

He walks back to the counter and unearths a tiny square mirror from his drawer before tossing it over to me.

I contemplate not looking for a couple seconds. People say ignorance is bliss for a reason, you know? 

But, if my little man's hurt, I should be the first to see the damage.

I lift up the mirror, but the sound of Jersey standing out of her seat distracts me.

"Elias, I just want you to know that I'm really, really sorry."

Her eyes are sparkling as she speaks. Maybe I'm dying.

"It's fine, Jersey."

"No, it's not. So, if you need anything from me over the next few days--"

"Anything? Anything?" I ask.

"--within reason, Elias! I'll be--me and Kai will be happy to help."

I don't want Kai's help. Never have. Never will.

"Great. Thanks. Can I look at my nuts now? You're freaking me out. Its probably not that bad."

I angle the mirror down towards the Little King only to see that Jersey somehow managed to turn my balls into giant red plums. Veins are popping out left, right, and center. The skin's so angry it makes neon lights look lame.

Yep. I'm dying.

"Are you alright, Mr. King?" Garrett asks.

At least that's what I think he asks. My body's too busy slumping off the examination table and tumbling towards the floor to answer.

The ground's cold.

I'm cold.

Everything's cold.

And then it isn't.

I'm out.

And I hope to God I stay that way.

'Cause if waking up, sprawled across the floor, bare ass-naked, and swollen-balled in front Dr. Garrett doesn't kill me--

--the look on Jersey's face definitely will.

Real talk.

(Next Chapter coming soon, hopefully this weekend! Did you guys like the audiobook? We had a blast recording it!)