FicWad

t e n.

I didn't really want to ever think about that last part of that first date ever again. I didn't want to hear Andy making plans for something that I didn't know about, and I didn't want to jump to conclusions. So I made myself not think about it in hopes of forgetting it, or rewriting that day in my mind. And not thinking about it helped me to rationalize his actions. He was saying 7 o' clock because he was making a reservation for our next date, which I tried to forget was at the movies. He wasn't exactly neat and tidy because I had confused him in the car, and he needed to take a drive and think about that morning, probably running his hands through his hair. Everything would have made perfect sense and would be perfectly fine if I only saw it in a light that made it favorable.

Andy and I were dating. I still had my reservations, but I didn't question his intentions, trying my hardest to believe that he really meant everything he said on our first date. And since I was going out with Andy, Joe felt it necessary to either be completely silent around me or to leave. I knew that after a week of enduring his glares I should probably talk to him, but I was really afraid of what he'd say, that it'd be something similar to the last time we talked. And I really didn't want to discover anything else about Andy that could change my view of him.

I finally gathered my guts and knocked on Joe's door. He opened it, and I coughed as the smell of pot engulfed me. "Oh, hey Laneeeeeeeee," Joe said, slurring my name and giggling. I exhaled loudly in disgust. I had spent the last half an hour preparing myself for a talk that now wasn't even going to take place for at least another few hours. "What you want?" I rolled my eyes.

"Nevermind, I'll talk to you later," I muttered angrily. I didn't want to have a conversation that would end up forgotten or be written off as a hallucination. I started to walk away, but Joe gripped onto my wrist firmly and stopped me mid-step. I turned, surprised by the strength and consciousness he had used to keep me there when I obviously had every intention of leaving and he was obviously plastered. I tried to say something, but before I could get a word out, he pulled me to him and kissed me soundly. Completely stunned, I pushed him away.

"You're so pretty," he said dreamily, letting go of my wrist to push some of the hair out of my face. Still shocked, I turned on my heel and sped away, taking refuge in my room. He knew that I was dating Andy, one of his self-proclaimed best friends, and yet he still kissed me. My mind was a blur.

I should never have gone to talk to him. Of course I knew that he was going to be smoking, he always was. But I had faith that since I had something to say, he'd want to listen. And now he had kissed me. I could have prevented it, should have seen it coming from miles away, but I didn't and it got the three of us into a very uncomfortable and sticky situation. Andy's intentions with me were a bit sketchy at best. Joe apparently thought that I was pretty. And I liked Andy. Right?

But the only question that really stuck out in my mind after the entire encounter with Joe was "If I like Andy so much, why did that kiss feel so right?"
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A/N: A quick update for you. I love the reviewers, and if I wasn't so lazy, I'd put names up here again.
And not to whore myself, but I do have other stories in progress just waiting to be read by someone other than myself. If you want to read them that is.

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