Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Not One For Love Songs

I'm Not One For Love Songs (Part 14)

by ohsotay23 5 Reviews

Where the hell could Jay be? Plans are made. And uh oh moment. Dundundun! Read and review. (:

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance - Characters:  - Published: 2009/08/29 - Updated: 2009/08/30 - 1511 words - Complete

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Author’s Note: Sorry that I don’t really have time to answer all of your reviews, but be aware that I have read them all over and over. They definitely helped me actually get off my lazy derrier and write some more! I promise I’ll respond to them all for this chapter! :D


Song Recommendation- Mario Kart Love Song (link)-->
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDBpQVhCMb8


I’m Not One For Love Songs


“-And I have been talking to your voicemail way too much this morning! Where are you?!, for the millionth time! You did not just disappear off the face of the Earth! You are not Captain Jack Sparrow and this is not Pirates Of The Carribean; as much as you wish you could go around with a patch on your eye and weird hair! Okay, you know what?! I am DONE. Call me when you get this and MAYBE I’ll pick up! Rawr! Kay, bye!” and with that last message left on her phone I decided it was time to take a breather.

I turned to Gabe who was looking at me with wide eyes and parted lips. I took a deep breath to calm myself and shrugged to him, having no real explanation.

After getting ready I had spent exactly 43 minutes calling Jay and leaving her multiple voicemails demanding her whereabouts. After the 5th one it started to get violent. You don’t even want to know the wide range of facial expressions that my colorful vocabulary had been able to pull out of dear Gabriel across from me.

“Don’t you think that you’re overreacting just a bit?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” I snapped at him, literally snapping at him with my teeth.

“Woah,” he said moving a little farther away from me even though he was a leg and an arm away.

“I think you should go and visit with your doctor,” he commented.

“Why?” I asked, confused and annoyed.

“Cause you really need your prescription for chill pills refilled, not even gonna try the charming approach with this one. You need to calm down before I get hurt, by you.”

“It’s just, this is really weird! She always always always calls! No matter what! I even tried Joe’s phone a few times, and no one picked up. I’m really worried that something may have happened to them!” I started taking deeper breaths, trying to hold in the impending panic attack.

“Well, maybe they’re fine and stayed the night at a hotel and their phones died or something, ya know? You can’t always assume the worst or else you’ll drive yourself insane,” he tried to comfort me, moving over to wrap his arm around my shoulders in a friendly gesture of comfort.

“Yeah, I suppose,” I said with a sigh.

All of a sudden the phone rang and I leaped over the table to grab it, “HELLO?!” I asked frantically.

“Hey there Nataliaaa! What’s up?” Joe asked, in his chill, everlastingly amused tone.

“Where’s Jay?!”

“She left my apartment like and hour ago and said she was heading back to the apartment and had to run some errands,” he tried to recall.

“Oh, well that’s not sketchy at all,” I commented sarcastically, “keep your girlfriend on a tighter leash.”

“But she’s not my girlfriend!” I could pretty much hear the pout in his voice.

“Give her some time, she’s just not the kind of person who likes to feel tied down or committed,” I tried squelching his worries, most likely unsuccessfully. I mean, I probably wouldn’t believe me if I were him.

“Well if you hear from her, remind her that phones were made for a reason and voicemail has a purpose and that checking it would probably be a good idea. Or maybe she should pick up, since that’s kinda what a phone’s for, ya dig man? ”

“I dig, just Natalinaaa, she’s fine, just trying to get shit done without me distracting her, yo comprehendo?” he attempted Spanish, poorly.

“Tell him that his attempt at speaking even a bit of Spanish sucked more than a tranny hooker on a street corner in downtown L.A.,” Gabe commented with a slight glare.

“Didja get that?” I asked Joe.

“Yep, got it. Talk to you two lovebirds latah,” he hung up before I could even give him a sassy retort. We were NOT lovebirds.

“Didja get that?”

“Yep,” Gabe responded with a grin, “my lovebird.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, I still need to find out where Jay is.”

“He said that she was running errands, mystery solved. What else is there to figure out?”

“I know Jay, and I also know her habits and her likes and dislikes. The only chore that she willingly enjoys and completes without blackmail being involved is grocery shopping. That leads to the fact that the fridge is full and we are in no need of anymore groceries. That leads to the question concerning my dear best friends whereabouts in this sketchy, sketchy situation,” I pondered to myself.

cough Overanylizer cough.”

“Lies,” I defended myself.

He just rolled his eyes and plopped back onto the couch turning the T.V. on and making himself at home in my, well, my home.

“My best friend is missing and you’re watching True Life: I’m Addicted To Porn?!” I looked at him and the television in disbelief.

“She is not missing Nat, so chill, she’ll turn up soon. If it makes you feel any better, you can call her again and I won’t give you any crap about it,” he offered.

I just ignored him and dialed her number off of memory. I impatiently sat at the counter and after the 8th ring she picked up, “WHERE ARE YOU?!” I yelled before she even got the chance to speak.

“Shhh! I’m on my way home right now and I need your help. Don’t let anyone know though, ok?! Especially Joe, he can’t know that I’m home yet!” she said hastily in a hushed voice.

“Who the fuck did you kill?” I sighed, that sure got a reaction from Gabe who looked at me like he was asking if he should run for the hills. I just rolled my eyes at him and faced the kitchen again as he got sucked in True Life once again.

“No one, at least I hope I won’t have to,” she murmured.

“Uh oh.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it Nat, it really doesn’t,” I heard her getting chocked up.

“Okay, I won’t make you explain over the phone. Just hurry up home and I could probably get Gabe out of the house for like an hour maybe a little longer.”

“Okay, thanks for being awesome,” I heard her sniff.

“No prob, just hurry home,” I sighed.

After saying our goodbyes I faced Gabe with my hands on my hips, “Okay, so girl time is about to happen and you need to be out for an hour, and if possible, longer.”

“What?! Where am I supposed to go?” he whined.

“Uhm, how about home?” I asked.

“But I don’t wanna go home! I’m lonely there, and I like being here,” he pouted.

“Dude, you are not just moving in because you feel lonely. You have an apartment and pay rent for a reason. And when was the last time that you saw any of your friends? Or the band?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s been a while, but I mean, I just don’t like who they saw when they last saw me.”

I just looked him. I guess I was feeling empathetic that day because the words that came out of my mouth next even surprised me, “Okay, here’s the deal. You can stay here for as long as you need to recover, or at least get a little better. When rent time comes, we’ll just figure out what’s gonna happen. But right now you’re going to go back to YOUR apartment and get clothes and all of the other little things that you’re going to need. Then you’re going to visit your friends and the band and let them know what’s up. But until all of that is done, you are not allowed back into this apartment. Okay?”

“Sounds like a deal to me,” he said happily, whistling as he closed the door on his way out.

It was my turn to drop back into the couch. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. A few minutes later the hurricane known as Jaycee bombarded into the apartment in a flurry of chaos, quick breaths, and wide eyes.

“So what’s up?” I tried to attempt at causality.

My answer was her pulling 3 boxes of pregnancy tests out of a plastic bag.

“Fuck our lives,” I said in shock.
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