||Jamilla Tate|| First Person ||

        "Explain to me why I ate so much again?"

        Within the blink of an eye, Christmas Eve had rolled by exceptionally quickly. Josh's family were the most hospitable people in the world to me-- his mother made sure that I was consistently both fed and happy, Abby never ceased to keep me entertained with her pranks, Ashley (at least) tried to confide in me regularly, and Jordan and I kept trying to beat each other at Mario Party 7(though we mutually suffered against the wrath of a CPU Luigi). It didn't help though that the entire time that I bonded with Josh's family, Josh would look over at me with those deep brown eyes and stare at me like I was the greatest thing in the world. As the days blurred into the loveliness of staying with a real family during the holidays, the more my urge grew to start something real between us.

        I know that what I feel for Josh though is ultimately dangerous. What I'm doing is playing with fire-- how could I try and start something with someone just before moving two hours away from them? I'll probably end up going back to Cleveland at the end of the semester due to unemployment and the lack of financial support that's been burdening me recently. Josh didn't know that though-- he assumed that I was never going to have to leave.

         I hated having to lie to him.

        For Christmas Eve dinner, some of Josh's extended family had dropped by. It was slightly overwhelming to have eight or so children speeding around the house and ducking around my legs while I tried to help Momma Dun chop up some vegetables. And his aunts-- wow. Granted, some of them were cousins on both of his parents' respective sides, but in particular, Mrs. Dun's sister(who insisted I call her Kat) was the best. When she walked into the kitchen with a tray full of cakes, she took one good look at me before grinning wildly at her sister and squealing excitedly.

        "Is this the girl little Joshie is all smitten for?" She had asked her sister as she smothered me against her chest. I awkwardly hugged her back, my face burning with embarrassment as I inhaled the distinct scent of drug store perfume. "Oh, goodness, you're beautiful!"

         And so, we had spent a good chunk of the evening helping Mrs. Dun prepare for the large dinner party she was hosting. Most of the time, the sisters gossiped amongst each other and I listened silently as I tried my best not to cut my fingers accidentally. It wasn't until an hour later that Josh had come into the kitchen when everything went to hell.

        "Josh!" Aunt Kat had exclaimed as she jumped up from the breakfast bar stool. Josh averted his gaze from me to his aunt, immediately swooping in to hug her. "My gosh, you've been hiding this gem from us all for how long?" She said, gesturing backwards towards me. Dropping the knife on the cutting board in shock, I had bit my lip-- hard-- before refusing to look back at the dark haired boy.

        "She just moved here in August." Josh had told her with a proud smile. "Ja-mee-lah, here, is my neighbour."

        "Yes, I've heard." Kat had turned to look over at me with an approving smile. "Cleveland, wasn't it?" There had been no point lying anymore-- not when Josh already knew.

        "Mhmm," I said carefully, picking back up the knife I had dropped and avoiding the knowing smile growing on Momma Dun's face.

         "What did I say, Laura?" Kat turned to look back at her sister. "My nephew knows how to pick 'em,"

         Kat, who had decided she was going to stay for the night, helped us all clean up after the house was finally starting to empty of Josh's family members. Upon finding a smashed wine glass in the far back of the house, Josh came and helped me safely dispose of the glass, mentioning that it was probably his drunk uncle Pete fighting with his cousin Eric again. I offered Kat my bed in the guest room, and in turn Josh offered me his bed under the promise to his very Christian mother that he'd sleep on the couch.

         The only thing was, Josh and I didn't plan on necessarily sleeping.

         "I told you to lay off, but nooo, Josh Dun eats what Josh Dun wants." I huff out in response to his statement, leaning my head against the cabinet door. My butt was starting to feel a little numb from sitting on the kitchen floor next to the refrigerator. Josh had told me he couldn't sleep, and in an effort to be a good companion, I decided to stay up with him until he got tired. The only issue is the fact that it's three in the morning and he's nowhere near sleepy yet.

         "Sorry," Josh mumbles, leaning his head against my shoulder as I stick my spoon into the ice cream container we had bought earlier that day. Playing softly from his cell phone is the album All We Know Is Falling by Paramore. I think Conspiracy has just started now, coming in just after the end of Whoa. I look down at him, seeing the tired eye bags beginning to form on his face. Without thinking much about it, I reach out and gently caress his cheek.

         "Still not tired?" I ask him, stifling a yawn that forces its way out of my mouth.

         "You can go to sleep if you want," he says, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't wanna keep you up."

         "I'm not leaving," I tell him, and something about my declaration makes him smile this dopey grin.

         "Hey, Jami?" Josh mumbles.

         "Hm?"

         "If you got cloned, like in The Island--" I start giggling before he can finish his sentence, "--how would I know if it's really you or Jami 2.0?"

         "Well," I say, chewing on my bottom lip. "I guess you mean in the situation where there's a gun involved?" When he nods against my shoulder, I sigh softly. "I mean, who am I to pass up an opportunity to die?" Josh's head lifts off of my shoulder at that. He narrows his eyes at me.

          "Not funny, but same." He says, and I can't help but laugh quietly and poke his nose.

          "I dunno, Josh." I say. "I mean, I hope Jami 2.0 has a better backstory than me."

          "Hmph," he frowns. "What's your backstory?" He asks, and I guess I should have expected it, but it still catches me off guard. I push the carton of ice cream across the floor to Josh, who picks it up and takes my spoon.

          "All I know is that I don't want to go back." I say tensely, fidgeting nervously. Josh, after taking a bite from our shared half-strawberry-half-vanilla ice cream, pats his lap lightly. Without thinking twice about it, I rest my head against Josh's lap. The fabric of his black jeans presses against my cheek a little too roughly, but I don't mind because he's running his fingers through my hair and it all feels far too nice.

         "To Cleveland or your parents?" Josh asks carefully.

         "Both," I say, "but I know I'll have to."

         "Will you?"

         "I'm starting to learn that running away isn't the best thing." I reply.

         "Well," Josh says tiredly, "it brought us together,"

         I stay quiet then, enjoying the calming feel of Josh's fingers brushing my hair away from my face and the music playing quietly. It dawns on me that he's purposefully trying to put me to sleep at this point, but I don't want to pull away from him just yet.

         "I really don't deserve this." Josh whispers under his breath. Annoyed by this, I push myself off of him, grabbing the ice cream carton and the lid off of the floor. Moving easily, I dump the spoon into the mostly empty sink and head back over to the refrigerator, tugging the freezer door open and storing the ice cream away inside. "I said something wrong, right?" He asks as he gets to his feet. I don't close the fridge yet, instead basking in the bright glow it shines into the dark kitchen.

          "Just something dumb," I respond. At first, I'm not quite sure if I'm imagining it or not, but everything is all unmistakeably real when Josh's arms snake around my waist and he rests his chin atop my shoulder. I try to slow my heartbeat, but I can already feel it beating out of my chest.

        "I do that a lot, huh?" He mumbles into my ear, his breath ghosting against my cheek. "You'll have to forgive me."

          "Josh," I say heavily.

         "Tell me to stop and I will." He says, and I open my mouth immediately to tell him 'no, stop it this instant, I can't start something I won't finish' but this rebellious nature within me pleads that I keep my mouth shut for once. His fingers clasp over my abdomen and he slowly sways to the tune of the song I can't pay enough attention to. All I know is that it's soft and melodious and it's absolutely perfect.

         "Josh," I repeat, this time in a much weaker tone.

         "I'm not drunk," he swears, "I just really need you."

I repeat his name again in a series of flustered whispers as he slowly spins me around to face him, his hands on my waist, tracing the curves of my body with a small nod of consent from me, He brings me closer to him, our chests flush against each other's, and then he's cupping my face in one hand and brushing his thumb against my cheek.

"It's not love." He says, and I nod my head in agreement.

"Definitely not love," I tell him, and that's all I have to say before he's pulling me closer and bringing our lips together. All the breath in my lungs escapes with a dreamy exhale of relief when Josh and I kiss. I grip the fabric of his t-shirt tightly in my fists as I draw him closer than physically possible to my body, determined to eliminate even a centimetre of open space between us. My skin is burning with the scorch of a thousand suns beating against my body-- every swipe of his fingertips against me is so breathtakingly hot that I lose all sense for the moment.

"It's not love," I say, but he lies to me anyways and tells me he loves me.

"It's not love," he promises me, but I do my best to lie to him back and tell him that I love him. In a backwards game of tug of war, we lie to each other over and over again under the guise of being truthful. Soon enough, I can't be sure anymore what part of what we're saying is the real lie and what part is the truth.

It's different than Garrett-- it's so f*cking different. Everything from the way that Josh's hands travel to my waist to hoist me up against the counter is so different from Garrett. It's feverish and exhilarating and terrifyingly beautiful all at once to feel Josh's fingers slipping underneath the hem of my t-shirt and brushing against the bare skin of my waist. I run my fingers desperately through his hair, muttering against his mouth his name over and over and over again. Only when I think that we're starting to go way too far do we pull away, breathing heavily into the quietness of the kitchen. Without another word shared between us, I press my face against his shoulder and try to steady myself.

"Josh?" I exhale nervously, my fingers shaking as I grip his shirt in my fists. He replies with a deep sound at the back of his throat, one that sends my heart thudding within the confines of my chest. "Josh, I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?" He asks me, his voice sounding almost hoarse as he speaks.

"Losing you."

"Come here," he holds me tighter than before, wrapping his arms around my trembling form as he brings me down and off of the counter. When my bare feet collide lightly to the tiled flooring, a sense of stability rushes through my limbs. I tighten my grasp around Josh further still, closing my eyes against the bright onslaught from the refrigerator light that shines upon us.