Princess and the Pea? No no, it's JERK and the Pea

LAST. CHAPTER...Maybe.

Miss me? Miss me not? :)

OH-MY GOSH SOOOOO MANY THINGS AND SO LITTLE TO WRITE!!!!

I'll just get ON with the story!!!!!!

Ian: Yeah, dumbass.

Avery: Ian. She writes us. Just shut up.

Ian: I'd write myself. Who wouldn't?

Avery: Your mom.

Ian: You're so nice. And mature.

Avery: I know. Go on Tiffy, write us.

Me: Well...

All you guys in the conga line *Giving me a dirty look*: JUST WRITE!!!!!

Enjoy<33

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It was a dark day - almost raining.

"Hey uhm...Ian?" I call out, but soon regret it.

"What?" He snaps. his hands are dirty with...well dirt and oil. He's been working on my car that I...crashed.

Yes, I crashed it. So what? It was like...Crashable...

And yes, that's a word. Look it up.

...Just kidding, don't.

"Well...Ermm...I'm a little bored."

"Why don't you help me with your car then? You know, the one you crashed?"

I roll my eyes, and get up from the sofa.

"What if I don't want to?" I challenge.

His gray eyes glitter, accepting the challenge.

"Avery," He smiles. "Don't start a fight you can't win."

"I'd much rather tell you that. Considering that you are whipped."

Ian's eyes get big and his smile evaporates. I can hear the rain patter against the window now, and small thunder.

"Oh you shouldn't have said that." Ian says, and grins. It chilled me as I blinked, he was arm length from me. He grabs my shoulders and puts me over his back. I start laughing because he doesn't let me down from his shoulders. He takes us outside, and as soon as he steps out, we get drenched.

I gasp, and he laughs.

"Okay fine. You had your fun. Now let me down!" I order, but he acts like he hasn't heard me.

He walks to the grassy area, and finally sets me down. I sigh in relief, but he has an evil glint in his eyes.

"What?" I ask.

"You think I'm whipped?"

"N-o...Not really...?"

"Ha," Says Ian. "That's funny. Coming from someone who's going to be the one who's whipped."

I roll my eyes and get up from the ground. I feel the stains already coming out of my shirt and showing.

"How do you mean?"

Ian grins, and laughs.

"Nothing. Come on, let's get back. I have to finish your damn car."

"Hey! It's not a damn car! It's my GOOD car!"

"Yeah, you crashed a good car."

"Ugh! NOT EVEN!"

"What do you mean not even?! Yes, AVERY JUNE crashed that car!"

"Well!"

"Well what?"

I pause and think about it.

"...I want to go inside." I say quietly. Ian smirks.

"Ah, the words of the whipped."

I shrug and follow him inside the house. Ian's mom let me stay at his house and so did my parents. I went home a couple times to tell them that I have a boyfriend and they freaked. I imagined how much more freaked out they would be when they...IF they found out that  was pregnant.

We go inside of the house and dry off.

"I don't get why we go outside when it's raining." I pout, as Ian starts shrugging off his plain white shirt. His dark blonde hair drips onto his angular cheekbones.

"Think of it," Ian says bitterly. "As a ritual, if you will."

"You're so funny. Sometimes I wish I hadn't-..."

"Hadn't what?" Ian asks, his brow furrowing. His dark gray eyes turn questioning. I blush a scarlet red and look away.

Time to tell him.

"I maybe...Kinda...should've...Had've..."

"Can you stop naming adjectives or something and tell me?"

"...They aren't...Whatever. I'm kind of pregnant."

Ian drops his crank on the ground. He staggers a step back, and his eyes are wide.

"H...W...Ho...Wha...I...I can't be a dad."

"I can't be a mom."

"I can't be a dad!" Ian says with more shouting. "I just can't."

"Yes, we've gone over this." I say exasperation. He was starting to freak me out. I quickly think of something to say.

"APRIL FOOLS!" I say outloud. Ian's face goes into relief and then anger.

"Wait...So it's not true?"

"No, it's true. I was totally joking. I'm still pregnant. But I bet you felt better for a second eh?"

Ian goes back to anger.

"This isn't something to go lying about." He hisses.

"I'm sorry. Just trying to lighten up the mood."

"When do you ever do that?" Ian spat. I recoil, and my eyes get glassy suddenly.

"Fine."

"Damn it."

"Fine!"

"Oh crap. Look Ave, I'm-"

I fold my arms over my chest, and glare across Ian.

"I hope your couch is comfortable."

"As a matter of fact, it is. It's a temperpedic." Ian informs me. I glare some more, and stomp up the stairs.

"WORK ON MY CAR, MEANIE!" I scream down the hall, and lock myself in the bathroom. I crouch down low to the ground and breathe in and out.

How could he do this to me?