Chapter Nineteen

After school Lia and I hit the mall so she can get a new outfit for the "fiesta" that Dex is planning Friday. Lia drags me through the perfume isle, knowing that I always gag and cough on the intense mixture of fumes.

Lia picks up a pink and purple bottle and prays some in front of her face, waving it towards her nose to smell it. "So," Lia starts, choking on the stench. "What's going on with you and Vance?"

I shrug, fighting an ear to ear smile. "Nothing, it's just now that Evan and I are over, Van and I are hanging out more," I half-lie.

"If something was going on with you guys, you could tell me," she says.

"I just broke up with Evan, the last thing I need to do is start another relationship," I state.

"That's true; relationships that start fast tend to end even faster."

"Let's talk about you and Kyle," I insist wanting this spotlight off of me.

"What about us?"

"You guys are sleeping together now," I prompt. "How's that...going? Don't get too detailed though, I saw enough of him on new years."

"It's getting...better. I'm glad I went on the pill when I did, because the condom broke," she tells me. "You're on the pill, aren't you?"

I nod, remembering the awkward trip to the doctor's with my mom when I was sixteen. Once my group of friends got larger and more guys got thrown into the mix she pretty much insisted that I'm a slut and that the pill would prevent her from becoming a grandmother. That clearly shows how little she thinks of me and how little she actually knows me.

"Kyle's sweet, when we first starting talking, like a month and a half ago, I pretty much knew from the get-go that I'd lose it to him."

I'm kind of glad that I'm on the pill now; otherwise I would probably have to go by myself. As horrible as the situation was at the time, my mom was there for me, it was a mother-daughter moment at it's finest and we don't really have those anymore.

Lia coughs. "Okay, all of this perfume is making me nauseous, let's go look at dresses! I still have to find a prom dress."

"Did Kyle ask you?"

"Well, not yet, but he will. I mean, we're together now so I kind of just assumed that we would go together," she pauses. "Are you going to prom this year?"

I shrug. "I don't know, maybe. I have a feeling that Van will drag me with him because he's into that whole cheesy thing."

"Especially lately," Lia says. "I think we all know who's to blame," she wrangles her eyebrows at me.

"T-there is nothing going on between me and Van," I clarify, avoiding eye contact by focusing on an obnoxious sparkly dress next to me.

"I believe you, I just think that Van is really persistent, especially when it comes to you. It's kind of cute the way that he always chases you around. And annoying."

I force a shrug and keep my mouth closed to refrain from smiling like an idiot. If I don't watch it, I'll be the one leaking this relationship before Van's patience gets the best of him.

When I get home, it's almost ten o'clock. I purposely stayed out past dinner because I wasn't in the mood to "sit around the table with the family." My mom and Rich got back earlier this afternoon; maybe they'll be a little jetlagged and sleep for a couple days.

I peak my head in the living room and see Van sprawled out on the couch next to a bag of Doritos, watching Star Wars. Geek.

Van looks over and sees me his face instantly lighting up. "They're not here," is all he says, like he read my mind.

I let out a deep breath, relieved. "Where are they?"

"Dinner party for my dad's job," he answers, sitting up on the couch to make room for me.

I walk over to the couch, carrying a couple shopping bags, I drop them on the ground and plop down beside him. Van moves his arm around my shoulder, letting me fall into him.

"The next time I say I'm shopping with Lia please just shoot me in the foot and save me the torture," I say.

Van chuckles. "So did you tell her anything?" he wonders hopefully.

I shake my head against him. "Just that you and I are hanging out more now that it's over with Evan."

"Hanging out...going out...making out, same difference," Van says.

I giggle, standing back up, tugging on his shirt to follow my lead. "I'm sleepy, will you cuddle with me?"

Van stands up and follows close behind me. "Abby, I'm not sure I can take much more cuddling ..."

I laugh, pulling him up the stairs. "Too bad, it's in your boyfriend description."

"Call me that again."

I stop in the middle of the stairs and turn to face him. I lean down to his ear and whisper, "boyfriend." I peck him on the neck and start walking back up the steps.

Once we're in my room, I start peeling off my clothes while walking into my closet. I grab a tank top and slip it over my head and return to my room.

"I totally dig the cuddles, but if you could, I don't know, sleep in a parka, it would make my life so much easier," Van admits, shrugging out of his jeans to sleep in his boxers.

"As your girlfriend, I'm supposed to make your life harder."

"My life isn't the only thing," he mumbles.

I fall into my bed and pull the covers around me, Van takes his t-shirt off and tosses it to the floor then lies down next to me.

"Maybe we should stay arm's length apart," Van suggests.

I roll my eyes, slithering closer to him.

"Abby, I know I come off as a charming gentleman who wants to wait, but that's only because I care about you. I'm two inches away from taking advantage of you..."

"Two inches? That's it, huh?" I tease, taking what he said out of context. "That's kind of depressing, Van."

"You did not just say that," Van gasps, rolling onto his back. "I'll have you know that I am almost four times the size of-"

I laugh at his typical guy reaction to a penis-joke. I crawl on top him, straddling his lap. "I'm sorry, did I hit a soft spot?" I joke, kissing him all over his face for forgiveness.

"More like a severely agonizing hard spot," he grumbles, but I can tell that he's pretending to be hurt for the attention.

"I didn't mean to hurt your man-feelings," I giggle. "I'm sure you that have...very large...equipment."

Even Van can't help but laugh as I embarrass myself. "Hearing you talk about it without actually saying the word penis is hilarious, really, please continue."

I feel my cheeks burning. "Well, can I give it an actual name?"

Van grins. "As my girlfriend, I guess what's mine is yours," he chuckles darkly. "But nothing girly."

"So Princess Tiffany is a no-go?" I mock.

"Absolutely," Van nods his head, holding back laughter.

"What about Napoleon? That's a manly name, right?"

"Didn't you pay attention in history? Napoleon had little man syndrome," Van chuckles.

I think for a few seconds, realizing that this is absolutely ri-dick-ulous. I'm thinking of names for his-"Roger!" I shout. "That's perfect."

Van bursts into uncontrollable laughter. "Roger it is."

I laugh, satisfied with the name as I shift next to Van, snuggling against him. Unable to fight off his urges, he snakes his arms around me, closing the possibility of space between us. As our laughs die out, I start to enjoy the silence.

"I mean, Princess Tiffany, really?" Van repeats, disbelieving.

I muffle my giggles into his chest.

At lunch on Friday Dex had the whole school raving about the stupid Anti-Evan Party. He actually passed out flyers all week that explained what the party would be celebrating. That's completely embarrassing on my part. If you ask me, the flyers were way too creative to have been all from Dex's imagination, I'm sure that Van did a majority of the handy work.

Since the last party was at my house, Maya said that we could use her place. So that's what we're currently doing, decorating this place according to Dex's desires. Richie Mitch pretty much gave Dex his daddy's credit card and he bought an abundance amount of unnecessary party supplies. I'm talking streamers, piñatas, balloons, party hats... I mean what teenager in their right mind is going to wear a party hat? Besdies Dex... Not that he's really in his right mind though.

We finish everything a little over an hour before people are supposed to show up, so we all end up sitting in a circle in the living room, like some kind of scene out of That's 70's Show, minus the weed.

"Dex, did you invite Kendall?" Michael asks.

Everybody's nose, including mine, turns up. "Why would we invite Kendall?" Dex asks, snacking from a bag of pretzels that's being passed around.

"Dude, come on."

"Dude, none of us liked her when Vance was dating her; you can expect the same treatment," Mitch states. "Besides, the party is basically for Abby so it would be rude to invite somebody she doesn't like."

"Yeah, Michael, you were a close second on my shit-list," I say, semi-jokingly. "Be lucky you made the cut." I stuff my mouth with pretzels to prevent from saying something much meaner.

"Roger that," Van inputs.

I start choking on my pretzels, both with embarrassment and laughter. I can't believe him. He just had to bring that up. All week he's been putting me through hell; all because I'm a little hesitant about telling people that we're in a relationship.

"Roger?" Dex echoes. "I don't get it, why is that so funny?"

I shake my head, trying to dismiss the subject.

"What's so funny about Roger?" Kyle jumps in and everybody's quiet. They all genuinely want to be included on what they think is some kind of an inside joke.

"You okay, Abby?" Van checks, smirking.

I nod pathetically, feeling the redness take over my whole face.

"Seriously, why is Roger so hilarious?" Mitch pushes.

As much as I want to laugh and think about the other night with Van when we were laughing and having a good ole time about Roger, I can't. I'm being a total girl about this, but I just wish that he would understand why I want to hold out on telling everybody. People obviously knew that I was in a relationship with somebody else less than a week ago. Not only would it make me look like a total sleaze-ball, but if Van for some reason changed his mind about being with me then I would look even more pathetic.

I look directly at Van, keeping my annoyance at a minimum. "Roger will be on the bench for a very long time if you keep this up," I warn. "Roger that, Vance?"

Van's eyes widen and he swallows. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Is this some kind of joke? Who is Roger and why is he on the bench?" Dex demands.

"Guys, drop it," Van says firmly.

I smile, more than satisfied with my control over both Van and Roger.

The party is in full swing around eleven thirty and I've managed to spend the whole night avoiding Van. Part of me is just giving him time around other people and friends to think this whole 'letting our relationship out of the closet' situation. I'm probably driving him away with all the time I'm forcing on him, but I can't help it.

As pitiful as it sounds, I'm really sick of this whole partying thing, I would much rather be at home cuddling-or not cuddling with Van. I'm actually becoming one of those girls that's obsessed with being alone with her boyfriend.

"Abby, you look absolutely parched my darling," Dex pops up next to me, holding one of his infamous concoctions.

I laugh, noticing the cone shaped party hat on his head. "Cute hat," I comment.

"Thank you, Abby. I think they're really catching on," he grins, waiting for me to try his drink.

I roll my eyes and bring the plastic cup to my lips, taking in the potent substance. I start coughing at the bitter, but sweet taste. "What the hell is in this, Dex?" I screech.

"A little bit of everything..."

"I see, so what are you calling this drink?" I ask curiously, knowing that he has some kind of crazy name for every drink that he creates.

"The Roger," Dex beams.

"Oh that's real funny. Did Van put you up to that?" I question.

"No, I thought it would be a good conversation starter for you to let me in on this little joke that you two have going on," he explains.

"Trust me, Dex, you don't want to know," I giggle, taking another drink.

"I'll find out, I always do."

"Well when and if you do, you'll totally regret naming one of your drinks after it," I confirm. I stare at Dex as he wanders off into the sea of people, fascinated by his personality. I can't help but think that he will do great things someday, probably all on accident too.

While trying to stay out of people's ways, I manage to bump into somebody, completely spilling my drink all over some guy's shirt.

"I am so sorry, I'm such a klutz," I apologize, looking up at a familiar face. I think his name's Craig, he's in my English class; he sits a few seats behind me.

Craig chuckles, looking down at his now drenched t-shirt, "You can spill whatever you want on me, Abby," he winks at me.

I smile nervously, his forwardness making me uncomfortable. "I can get you another shirt if you wan-"

Craig halts my words by reaching behind him and pulling off his shirt. "Nah, I think I'm good without one."

Uhm, can you not? This is awkward. Suddenly I realize why Craig and I don't really talk, he's a creepy douche.

"You look good tonight, Abby," Craig compliments.

I look down at my plain low-cut t-shirt and skinny jeans. "Well I'm not exactly half naked like you are, but thanks," I joke, trying to lighten this uneasy feeling I have.

Craig chuckles, "We could totally change that."

"Ha hah ha..." I laugh uncomfortably. I look around, trying to find Van, but I guess I deserve to be in this situation for keeping my distance.

"C'mon," Craig slurs, grabbing my palm with his sweaty, clammy hand. He leads me through people and I can already see his direction is heading towards the stairs.

I jerk my hand back, trying to get him to let go, but his grip is too tight. "Craig, let go," I call out over the combination of loud music and chattering people. Oh my gosh, where the hell is Van when I actually need him? Any other time when I would be avoiding him he would be following me around like a lost puppy. This is definitely my fault though; I can't even try to blame this on him.

I know, I'm stubborn and I hate it. Van and I both want each other, but each of us also has our own terms. Unfortunately, my terms are probably going to get me assaulted. Halfway up the stairs, I look down at people, searching for somebody I know to save me.

Craig abruptly stops, and I peer around him to see Van blocking Craig from going any further. I let out a sigh of relief. Craig's momentary distraction causes him to loosen his grip on my hand and I quickly yank it away.

"Whoa there big boy," Van starts, glancing at me, but I stare at the banister to divert the attention. "What's going on here?" he demands, folding his arms over his chest, making me stare at his biceps.

"Vance, I would think that you of all people wouldn't support cock-blocking," Craig retorts.

"Ew," I blurt, squeezing past Craig to stand behind Van and use him as a shield. "I spilt my drink on you, I don't feel that bad."

Craig starts to say something, but Van gives him a glare that changes his mind. "Whatever," he gripes, pushing past Van, purposely bumping his shoulder.

I catch Van's jaw clench and his hands curl into fists as he restrains himself from starting a fight. To my surprise Van starts taking off down the stairs without saying anything to me. I take a deep breath and start behind him.

"Van!" I call out, as we both push our way through drunken bystanders. His stride is much bigger than mine and his tall, broad body makes it easier for him for get people out of his way. When I see him walk out the front door, I know that he's pissed. "VAN!" I yell, finally stepping outside to see him halfway to the street already. "It's not what you're thinking!"

Van stops and does the fist-flex thing before turning around. If it weren't for the street lights I wouldn't be able to make out the fury on his face. "It's not about what I'm thinking, but what every other asshole like Craig is thinking," he says through clenched teeth.

"I-"

"Damn it, Abby!" Van shouts. "This is exactly why I didn't want to fucking wait, I knew something like this would happen."

I step closer to him. "Nothing even happen-"

"Yeah, because I was there," he interrupts. "If I hadn't been watching you all night, while you avoided me like the plague, who the hell knows what that douche would've done."

I clear my throat, searching for words. "I-I'm sorry."

Van runs an anxious hand through his hair, trying to calm down. "Just give me a couple seconds before I say something I shouldn't," he mumbles, sitting on the curb, facing the street.

I fidget with my nails, chipping off the blue nail polish. Normally when Van and I fight I have this constant urge to yell back, but since it was my stupid idea that's causing him frustration, I can't bring myself to respond angrily.

I take a few steps forward and sit down next to him, making him jump back to his feet. What, he can't be next to me now?

"Okay, Abby" Van says, clapping his hands together once, getting my full attention. "This is what's going to happen," he pauses, turning to face me while he paces in the street. "Every moment past this, you're openly mine or I walk. Yes, sneaking around was hot for like five seconds, but I'm over it and I can't fucking do that anymore. Chasing you around tonight was the last straw," Van states, standing still to look me dead in the eyes. "Either I have you entirely or not at all because right now, Abby, it honestly doesn't even feel like I have any of you. And I'm fucking exhausted from trying to catch you when you're acting like you don't want to be caught," he finishes.

I gulp, staring up at him, reading the sincerity on his face. I stand up, dust my butt off, and take a couple steps forward, tripping over my untied shoelace. Van lunges forward, sliding his arms around my waist to keep me from eating asphalt. I begin laughing at the irony, leaning my head against Van's chest.

"Great, I tell her how I feel and she laughs in my face, awesome," Van mutters, pulling back.

"No, no," I say, tossing my arms around his neck. "I was laughing because you caught me, physically, not just emotionally," I explain hastily.

A grin tugs on Van's mouth. "So I caught you emotionally?" he clarifies.

"Emotionally, sexually, mentally, everything," I list.

"Sexually," Van mimics, intrigued. "Is spiritually included? Because I think you're going to be calling me God tonight."

I laugh. "Oh just tonight?" I tease.

"Every night," Van corrects, chuckling. "And twice on Sundays," he jokes.

I bury my face in his shirt, softening my giggles and breathing in his mixture of cologne and alcohol.

"So I'm not walking?" he checks.

"Absolutely not. Ever."

Van clears his throat. "Good, because I finally know what I want."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ever since you forfeited our bet, I've been cooking up something," Van pauses, pulling back to look at me.

"Oh have you?" I reply.

Van takes my face in his hands and says, "Trust me, it's a cruel, embarrassing punishment for putting me through this whole waiting-trial period." A devilish smile spreads across his lips just before they cover mine.

When it comes to Van I can't even imagine how I'm going make it through this.

********

JustKaylay xx.