Rebel, Rebel. (h i a t u s)

▲ c h a p t e r f o u r ▲

A salty sweet smell danced all around me. Warm morning sunlight wrapped me in its soft blanket. My eyes opened, and I blinked several times to focus my sight. I looked around the unfamiliar bedroom, taking in the sight of all the white and beige decor. I stretched my legs out, pointing my toes, then stretching my arms out besides me.

I shoved the thin, white sheet down from around my shoulders, and slowly sat up, a cloud of vague memories swirling around in my mind.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, facing the window that the sun shone through. The beach was distant, but still in view of the window. And the faint blue that I could see, sparkled beneath the morning's light. It was a lovely Friday morning, and I was anxious for big city adventures. I'd been in big cities before, but always accompanied by my parents. But this time me and Carmen were on our own. It was both scary and exciting.

I turned around, and headed for the door. Carmen wasn't in bed besides me, so I assumed she'd gotten home late and crashed on the sofa. My knees were feeling shaky, for a reason I couldn't fathom, and didn't bother trying. Steadying my balance on my Jello knees, I grabbed hold of the door handle and flung it open all the way.

I was instantly thrown back to see a rather drowsy looking Brooke, sitting at the counter of the kitchen. Her eyes widened when I burst through. She was just as taken back as I was. My eye brows knitter together, confusion and questions arising. “What are you doing in here?”

She ran a hand through her messy waves of auburn and then she sighed heavily, “You were leaving some room a few doors down, and you seemed kind of upset.”

I paused to think before I spoke, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “So you stayed in my room with me? Why? And where's Carmen?”

She tilted her head a little bit, in what I assumed was confusion, “Carmen? Who is Carmen?”

“Oh, right. She's my twin. She's suppose to be here with me,” I informed her, forgetting that she hadn't been introduced to my sister yet. “Why are you here, though?”

After asking the question, an ocean of memories from the night before flooded my mind. The elevator, the boy band, the party. Like a tsunami the one memory crashed over my whole body, the awkward feeling I got when I was around that dark haired boy. The questions and his persistence sent an unfamiliar pang in my chest, and I remembered his final question. That's when I knew I had given the right answer. “No.” I told him. I told him that I had better things to do then become another girl on the list of females he's fucked on the first date, never speaking to them again. I told him that I'd rather lay in my own hotel room alone, all day, than go out for a day on the town with some boy who's been in at least a thousand pair of panties.

It was then that I remembered how his chocolate, sweet rimmed eyes, glassed over with a feeling he wasn't used to receiving. Rejection.

I sat back on my heels, feeling a tornado stirring inside of me. Two great forces of feelings were consuming me, and I was torn. Part of me felt so excited to have rejected the most famous man on earth. It felt so great to know that he'll probably think twice next time he wants a quickie with a hopeless young girl. He'll probably be feeling that cold rejection for days. All the while, another part of me wanted to lay down under a rock. I wanted to pull my hair out knowing that he asked me out. It wasn't rare that I was asked out, but it was different coming from him. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him again. And again, and again. I could look at him for house, just taking in his features.

After thinking about how perfectly sculpted his face seemed to be, I convinced myself that the only reason I regretted rejecting him, was because of how gorgeous he was.