Dedicated to aJuneBug for the banner. Fun Fact: this was the first cover I ever fell in love with, and I was extremely hesitant to let go of it.

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Chapter 10: Exotic Things Come From Walmart

"Luke, when you're done with college, are you going to stay in Addison or are you going to some exotic place, like California."

He chuckled. "California isn't that exotic, Charlie."

"They have exotic things...like Nutella."

"Nutella isn't exotic. You can get it at WalMart. But they do have some lovely strippers, don't they?"

"LUKE!"

"I'm joking! You don't have to get so worked up."

"I'm not getting worked up," I mumbled.

"Of course not."

I sulked and sank back into the coach cushions, stuffing my face with Ritz and spray cheese. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together came on—my ringtone. The number calling wasn't in my contacts list, but I answered it anyways. My dad might've needed to borrow someone else's phone; charging his phone wasn't a priority for him.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Charlotte?" a feminine voice asked.

"Um...yes. Who is this?"

"Honey, It's your mom, sweetie."

I almost gagged. She didn't get to call me 'sweetie' or 'honey' or any other sickly sweet endearments. No, those were for people that I cared about. I had no feelings for her. She was like a complete stranger to me—wait. She was a complete stranger. Only worse. Because I wanted nothing to do with her.

Before I hung up, I said emotionlessly, "I don't have a mom."

Needless to say, I wasn't in a very happy mood after that. And Luke, being the bestest best friend that he is, didn't bring the subject up.

***

I was sitting in the living room, wracking my brain on figuring out how to do this math problem. Even though I said it wasn't awkward between it was Beckett, I was still kind of uneasy about that. I mean, what kind of gay guy has crowds of girls swooning over him? And to think, I almost fell into that trap...I wasn't going to sleep with him, but I could maybe feel a potential relationship brewing.

And then the doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock on the TV screen: 11:53 p.m. My first instinct was to run upstairs and grab a weapon or something. Should I answer it? What if it's a some stranger creeper or a weird telemarketer? Or worse—my mother. But then again, it could've been Luke wanting to borrow toilet paper or something, so I went to open the door.

And that was my first mistake.

Standing on my front porch was a nerdy, pimply looking guy in a dolphin costume. Yes, a full our dolphin costume. I couldn't even see his feet. He looked pretty nervous, the note card in his hand shaking. "Um...hi. Are you Charlotte?"

I narrowed my eyes and stiffly nodded, ready to shut the door and call 911 if needed. I sighed once more and broke out into a song and did a little dance with it. He seemed bored the entire time, although it was still entertaining.

"Hey I just thought of you.

I must be crazy.

But here's an invite.

To my party."

The guy handed me an invitation and was away in one smooth stroke. I opened the envelope and in Ian's messy scrawl, was a note. Midnight swim with your not-so-prince charming? Time: now.

Should I go? Dad was out with his lady friend, and probably wouldn't be back until just before I usually wake up. I wasn't tired, and I didn't really feel like concentrating on my assignments, so I put my bathing suit under my clothes and left.

My car decided to be stupid and break down in the middle of the road. It's a good thing the way to Ian's house wasn't as busy as the rest of town, because if it was, I would've gotten hit by now.

I sighed, turned off the engine to save gas, and banged my head against the steering wheel. This would mean that I would have to take it to be fixed, which meant that I would be without my car. I mean, I usually ride with Luke, but the fact that it's not going to be in the driveway when I need is going to drive me crazy. See the pun?

My first thought was to call Luke, but then he would be wondering why I'm out driving at this time in the night (morning?) Which would lead to questions, which would lead to me telling him I was going to see Ian. That was just not a conversation that I wanted to have.

And for the same reason, I couldn't call my dad. So I called Ian. It made sense, right?

He answered on the second ring. "Are you standing me up, Charlotte?"

"Nope, I'm kind of in a situation."

"What kind of situation?"

"A my-car-broke-down kind of situation."

"Where are you?"

"I think I'm on Verona Boulevard, but it's dark, so I'm not sure."

I heard Ian sigh. "I'll be right there. Don't move."

"Wasn't planning to. Wait, what about my car?"

"I'll have a tow truck pick it up."

He ended the call and I sat there waiting for about five minutes until I saw headlights. I switched mine own, just in case he couldn't see me. Ian got out after his car rolled to a stop. He was wearing a loose t-shirt, but I could still see the outline of defined chest and stomach.

He came over to me and pulled me into his arms. "Are you okay?"

I hugged back. "I'm fine. Although, I'm not sure I can speak the same for my car."

"We'll get it all fixed up, but for now, let's go swim!"

We drove away, my car slowly getting farther and farther away from me. "So, how many people are going to be at this party?"

"Two."

"Two? Besides us?"

"Nope, it's a private party. Just me and you, kitten."

I felt a bit uneasy, although I knew he wouldn't anything I wasn't comfortable with. He wasn't that kind of person. But the last time I was at Ian's, it didn't end up too well. Actually, it went horribly. But I felt a little better knowing it would just be the two of us.

"Oh, joy."

"Don't be like that, babe. You're a very lucky girl."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yup. Not many people get to swim in my heated pool."

"How many times have you had a girl over to swim?"
"Twelve."

"Just twelve?"
"Don't sound so jealous, they're family."

"I don't care who you bring into your pool."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Just curious."

"So I heard a new pickup line today. Wanna hear it?"

"Do I even have a choice."

"Nope."

"Then, I guess, yes."

"You're like dentures, because I can't smile without you."

"Aw, that's adorable and not like all your other ones."

"I thought it was kind of lame."

"I think it's sweet! In a weird kind of way...okay. Let me think of one."

"Um...are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see."

"Old, but I appreciate the compliment. Alright, here's another one. I'm a Love Pirate, and I'm here for your booty! ARRRGGGHHH!!!"

I frowned. "Okay, that was not sweet at all."

"But you've got to admit, it was funny."

I sighed again. Ian was one of a kind.

"This is a really big pool," I awed, looking around the enormous natatorium.

"I know," he replied, climbing down the ladder into the pool. So are you coming in, or what?"

I padded over to the edge of the deep end and gestured for Ian to come over. He obliged, and before he even knew what was happening, I had dove right into him. He made a swift recovery and caught me. Good boy.

I squealed. "This is so much fun!"

"Jumping into my arms?"

I blushed. "No! Being in this gigantic pool."

For three hours, we swam around and played pool games, like Marco Polo. I climbed out of the pool shivering, feeling like an idiot because I forgot to bring a towel. I hugged my arms and attempted to wipe the droplets off, which only made it worse.

Something fuzzy and warm enveloped my shoulders. Ian had draped a yellow and fluffy towel around me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. His grey eyes flickered downwards, but then burned through my blue ones. His face inched closer and closer, giving me time to think. I knew what was going to happen, I wasn't a complete imbecile. I just wasn't sure if I wanted him to go through with it. Part of me told me that it wasn't a smart idea and to just shove him away, but the other part, told me to just close the distance between us.

As I was over-thinking the situation, I didn't realize Ian had already pressed his lips against mine. And then I panicked. The only boy I had ever kissed was Luke, and that was when we were little children. What if I was a bad kisser? I tried to follow his lead, hoping I was doing a decent job. Maybe if I just cleared my head, it would work. Okay, I can do this.

Thirty seconds later, we pulled apart. It was sweet and simple—how a real first kiss should be. Being the flustered person I am, I immediately began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry I was horrible. I mean it was my first time and I just...ugh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, kitten. If I didn't want to kiss you, I wouldn't have. I know you're inexperienced, it's not a big deal."

Still feeling embarrassed, I covered my face with the towel. I felt Ian touch my shoulder gently. "Hey, it's cute."

I peeked through an opening in the towel and glared at him. "No, it's not."

"You're like a little kid, Charlotte."

"Which would make you a pedophile, wouldn't it?"

"I didn't sleep with you yet, so no."

"Yet?"

"It's going to happen sooner or later. I would prefer the former, but I'm okay with either one."

"Keep dreaming, Ian."

"You know I dream about you? Who told you!?"

I laughed and weakly punched him. "You're stupid."

"Stupidly chasing you."

"You can stop anytime. I'm not making you do any of this."

"I don't think so. I don't give up that easily. You're going to have to make me quit."

"How can I do that?"

"Make beautiful love to me."

"IAN!"

"Kidding. We can just have sex."

"No."

He shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

I scoffed. "Yeah, like a shot in the dark."

"Ah, so you want it to be dark when it happens? That can be arranged, my dear."

***

"Can I ask you something?" Luke asked, nervously munching on a carrot."

"What's up, doc?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious."

"Alright, shoot."

"How do you tell a girl that you're in love with her?"

For a split second, I thought he was talking about me. But I instantly banned that thought from my head. Tyler was just saying that to get into my head. And of course, it worked. I laughed. "What?"

"How do you tell a girl that you're in love with her?" he repeated.

"Why? Are you in love with someone?"

"No..."

He was! The best friend part of me went 'aw', while the part that loved him wanted to go kill this girl. Whoever she was, she was one lucky girl. "You are!" I teased excitedly. "Who is she?"

"It's a secret."

"C'mon," I whined. "We're best friends. I should've known about her before now. Tell me!"

"Just tell me what to do."

"Fine, but you're telling me after this, got it?" He nodded. "Um...just tell her, I guess. I really don't know anything about this kind of thing. I've never really actually dated someone."

"That's not helping me!"

"I don't know, Luke!"

He groaned. "If someone was going to tell you that they loved you, what would you want them to do? Should it be filled with roses and candle lights at a fancy restaurant?"

"It depends on the girl, Luke. If you tell me who it is, I bet I can help."

"No," he replied firmly, "just use yourself as an example."

I sighed, but reluctantly obliged. "Then no, I wouldn't need all that cheesy romantic crap, although it does make for a good movie. I would just want it to be me and him and no complications."

"I love you," Luke blurted.

My heart dropped, but I quickly picked it up. Oh, he was just practicing. I guess I should praise him or something. If he made me feel like this, the other girl would be over the moon. She better be if she's getting a guy like Luke. "Yeah, just like that."

He looked frustrated. "No, Charlotte, I love you."

What? Ohh, like a best friend. "Um...I love you too! I was expecting a thank you or something, but I guess this works too."

He groaned. "You're not understanding."

"I already know you love me. We've been best friends since we were little, remember?"

"No...like more than a best friend."

Luke loved me. Lucas Chandler really loved me. And I loved him. We loved each other. Happiness clouded my brain, and then something just had to nag at it and rain on my happy day.

What if he was lying when he said that he was done with the games? What if he was just using our friendship to his advantage, and drop me like all the other girls? Even worse, what if he never even cared about me?

"Charlie, I love you. I've loved you since you bobbed over to my house with a plate of soggy cookies."

"Don't say that, Luke. You shouldn't joke around with love like that."

"You think I'm joking?"

"What else?"

"I can assure you, I'm not kidding around. I would never."

"Then what? Are you trying to get into my pants?"

"My pants," he corrected.

"What?"

"You're wearing my pants."

I looked down, and sure enough, I was wearing his sweats. Taking them off crossed my mind, but I wasn't comfortable around him at the moment to do that. I'd return them later. Correction, I'd have my dad do it. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

I growled. "Whatever. It's because of that stupid game that you and your friend are playing, isn't it? That's real low, Luke. I thought you valued our friendship, but you know what? I guess I was wrong. I'm always wrong."

"That's not it at all!"

"Sure it isn't. You're worse than all of the other combined, you know that?"

"Charlie..." he trailed, hurt evident in his voice. He was a good actor, I'll give him that.

"Don't call me that," I yelled close to tears. "Don't call me that..."

"It's the timing that's wrong, Charlie!"

"You've had nine years to tell me. So why didn't you?"

Okay, I was being a bit of hypocrite, but who cares? He's the one taking advantage of our relationship.

"I was just scared to admit my feelings! I didn't know if you felt the same way!"

"Well, I did. But it's too late now. Stay away from me, Lucas."

And with that, I marched outside, and slammed the door shut. The tears that I tried so hard to hold in, spilled out. I ran past my dad, who had a shocked expression on his face, and upstairs to my room. I flopped down onto my bed and sobbed into Mr. Boo, the brown teddy bear he gave to me when we were eleven.

How dare he? How dare he play with my feelings to win popularity with the kids at school? I thought I knew him better than that. I should've seen it coming when I noticed he was flirting with me a lot more than usual. I thought he was just being Lucas. Deep down, I knew I should've let him explain, but I couldn't bring myself to let him talk. I felt betrayed by the one person I trusted completely. It wasn't a happy feeling; in fact, it was probably the worst feeling I've felt since my mom...

There was a knock on the door. "Charlotte? Can I come in?" my dad asked, voice filled with concern.

"No."

"Too bad, I'm coming in anyway."

I heard the door squeak open and felt the other side of my queen-sized bed dip down. I shoved my face deeper into my pillow. "What's wrong, pumpkin?" he asked, stroking my hair. "Is it Lucas?"

I nodded my head and heard him sigh heavily. "What'd he do now?"

"He told me he loved me," I blubbered through the pillow.

"What was that?"

I lifted my face up, wiping away the tears. "Luke told me he loved me."

His face lit up. "Really?"

"You seem happy about this, Dad."

"I kind of knew you two were going to end

"Yes...but—"

"Then why would it make you cry?"
I cut him off. "The reason he said it."

"The reason is because he loves you, isn't it?"

"It's because of the games." up together. Wait, why are you crying? Don't you like him too?"

Dad looked at me puzzedly, trying to understand me. "The games?"

I explained the game to him and he replied, "That doesn't sound like Luke."

"Well you never know. People can change, Dad."

"Why don't you give him a chance to explain?"

"Are you taking his side?"

"I'm always on your side, pumpkin. I'm just saying–"

"Well don't. You're hardly one I should talk to relationships about," I snapped.

His face fell and I knew I had just struck a nerve. Mom was a sensitive subject for the both of us. She had filed for divorce before I was born, and left when I was just six months old. Growing up was hard on me. My dad had to explain why all the other kids had mommies and I didn't. When I was in Kindergarten, I was the only one who had a dad there instead of a mom. I used to think that she left because of me; after all, she was pregnant with me at the time.

When I was ten, I overheard my dad talking about his money troubles on the phone. That summer, I made a lemonade stand to help him. I earned about $20, which he told me to keep. Ten year olds shouldn't have to worry about those kinds of things.

"I'm sorry, dad!" I quickly apologized, enveloping him in a hug. "I didn't mean to say that. I was just–"

"Hurt, I know," he replied solemnly. "I'll just leave you then."

He walked out of the room and I fell backwards onto my very fluffy bear. Right now, I would probably be beating Lucas in some video game he had. I smiled and quickly pushed the thought aside. I'd let him apologize to me; he's the one who hurt me. Then I'd decide if I would forgive him.