The Inadequate Experiments: 1. White Noise [Rough Draft]

Part 1; Insanity - 4. The Lying Game

The next time there was a knock at the door, I was ready. I opened it a fraction of the way, grabbed Oliver's wrist and dragged him inside, not caring whether it hurt him or not. He was barely over the threshold of the house before I shut the door again, sliding the lock back into place. Raindrops littered his messy blond hair and found homes in his long eyelashes. I pretended not to notice the fact that the heavy rain had made his white t-shirt almost completely see-through.

"What were you thinking?" I asked him incredulously, shoving him backwards against the closed door.

"I couldn't exactly say I just lost my Watch!" He defended himself, gaining his balance and pushing me backwards carefully to give himself a little space to breathe. "Besides, they would have found out eventually, seeing as we'll be spending time together."

"The only time I want to spend with you is the time it will take to get our Watches reset." I snapped.

"Ooooh," he narrowed his eyes, his words dripping with venom, "that was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said ever-so-innocently, before imitating Kelsey Smithson's annoying voice. "But you would have a feisty one, wouldn't you? No shortcuts for you, Mister."

"Apparently not." He muttered under his breath.

I pushed him again. "You could have at least given me some warning! I got woken up this morning by at least 30 insane groups of paparazzi at my front door at once!"

"Warned you how?" He asked exasperatedly.

"Oh, I don't know," I snapped. "Maybe with a text message. Or a phone call. Or a message through Hana. Maybe even an email.  Something."

"I didn't think you'd appreciate me acknowledging your existence unless it was about seeing the Scientists!" He retorted.

"I would have preferred you to acknowledge my existence and warn me about, about that—!"

Before I knew what was happening, his lips crashed against mine. Entirely against my will, my lips moved in sync with his. As I felt his hands grip my waist softly, two parts of my brain fought for control; the part that wanted to keep kissing him, and the part that wanted to get him the hell off my face. Eventually, the stronger part of my brain won out, and I pushed him away from me with all the strength I could muster.

"What the hell was that?" I asked angrily. "That wasn't a warning! Or an apology!"

"One would think that you've read enough books to know what a kiss is." He snapped. "What's your name? Peter Pan?"

"Don't sass me, Golden Boy." I said, narrowing my eyes. "I can always throw you out this door right now to the paparazzi."

"Don't call me that." He murmured, his teeth gritted tightly.

"Why?" I asked, spiteful. "It's what you are."

"Doesn't mean I like it being acknowledged." He snapped.

I raised my eyebrows. "You are something else, Oliver Jackson. A celebrity who doesn't want to be acknowledged as a celebrity. No wonder everyone is so obsessed with you."

That was when I heard the giggling. I didn't even have to turn around to know that it was Shaunee and Stacy. What I hadn't counted on though was Thomas coming with them; he cleared his throat loudly, making both Oliver and I jump. I turned to face them, a slight blush colouring my cheeks, despite me having no reason for it being there.

"We heard yelling," Stacy said quietly – she was the first of the five of us to gather up the courage to say something. "So we came to see what was going on,"