Simple Deal

Eleven

Beth:

"Beth, wake up," that whisperer nudged me, "wake up, babe!"

"Justin," I moaned sleepily, trying fighting to escape from his strong arms that were apparently still wrapped tightly around my body from behind, "go away and let me sleep."

"Noooo," he grumbled, hiding his face in the crook of my neck when I refused to move an inch at all, "I need help, okay? Selena's here, and I don't even know why, and I don't want to do anything stupid with her that might get me attached to her again, so I need you to be by my side and be the resistance to my temptation."

For a second there, I froze. I froze like I'd been sent into a room of negative hundred degrees celsius and even my nerves weren't functioning properly.

And this time, for some reason, my eyelids managed to peel open; the thick sleep in my body and my eyes feeling like it had magically vanished into thin air as I remained still on the spot; motionless on the bed and stiff as fuck in Justin's arms.

Selena.

The stupid shit she does to me. Why does Selena Gomez always give me this feeling? The feeling of wanting to shoot someone down with a nerf gun at their heart without hesitation in a sober state of mind. It's like I'm a magnet and made to receive this unpleasant feeling every time something about her is brought up.

Hell, this has happened countless of times even before I saw her, met her and spoke to her in person. 

She bothers, frustrates and utterly disgusts me to no end, you feel me?

No?

Oh.

Is it because you've fallen under her malevolent manipulative spell? Huh, that explains. . . that's okay, sweetheart, seems like more than half the world already has, anyway. You're just one of the next few she's managed to collect. . . just saying. 

Yes, that definitely shows how much I despise her.

"Beth?"

"Huh?" I instantly responded to my name, craning my neck to turn and look up, facing Justin, who was no longer hiding his face. "Oh, right. Selena. Right. Um. . . Why don't you want to grow attached to her? I mean, aren't you both best friends even after breaking up? I thought she was the nicest bitch ever?" I smiled tightly, earning back a deep frown.

"She's not nice, but neither is she a bitch. . . some times. Yes, we may have told every interviewer the same thing, that we're supposedly going to stay close even after breaking up, but who am I kidding? I just want to get the hell away from her but I still love her, and it's difficult because I love the side of her that she doesn't like showing," he drew in a deep breath. "Basically, it's a long ass complicated story."

"Okay, I'll help you," I paused briefly, watching as relief washed over his face quickly, "provided, you tell me the long ass complicated story. Deal?"

Instead of hesitating to find an answer, or even reluctantly answering me, he nodded straight away without a second thought. "Fine, I will if I must."

"Great, now get out of the room so I could get changed," I said, in the meantime crawling out of his stupid hot, muscular arms. "You could entertain her while waiting, anyway."

"Wait," Justin suddenly voiced up, making me turn around and face him with my eyebrows raised, "do you usually change in the room?"

"Yes. . . ?" I arched an eyebrow downwards, keeping our eyes strained together. "The bathroom is way too small and I'll feel like I'm suffocating if I do change there. And that's also pretty much why I'm wondering why you're still here."