Upper Class Love (a Justin Bieber love story novella)

Chapter Eight

“Well, for one thing, it was a major waste of my time…” I replied to Maura over speaker phone as I painted my nails.

            I swear I could hear her choke on the TV dinner she made. “W-What?! You met Justin Bieber, hugged him, kissed him, and got his number! If that’s a waste of time, I don’t know what is!”

            “Yeah, but the whole kiss in the first place was fake. I didn’t want to kiss him, but hey, he was threatening my power, and you know I can’t let anyone do that.” Repositioning myself on the floor, I accidentally bumped over the jar of sparkles. “Oh, sh—”

            “You still haven’t told me exactly what happened.” Maura replied with her mouth full.

            “It’s nothing special. He just said that I couldn’t have him, and you know I get what I want—even if I don’t want it, I have to have it—and I just… Kissed him. Then he got all ‘Oh, she kissed me, I can kiss her back,’ and… Yeah. I think that’s it.” Where was my carpet cleaner?!

            “You make it sound like it was nothing!”

            “That’s because it was nothing!”

            “Wait, did you call him yet?”

            “Why would I do that?... Yes! There it is!” Reaching for the white spray bottle, I carefully read the instructions.

            To use: Switch knob to SPRAY and position one foot above designated area. Hold down trigger to release liquid. Let sit for 5-10 minutes, and then scrub with cloth soaked in lukewarm water.

            Geez, they could’ve just written, “Spray on stain. Rub with wet towel.”

            “What’s there?” Maura asked.

            “What? Oh, just something I was looking for…” Skkk, skkk, skkk, I drowned the glob of sparkle in the fowl-smelling liquid. “Anyways, uh… Oh, yeah, why would I call him?”

            “’Cus you liiiiike him!” I could hear the smirk on her face.

            Ugh. “No, nono, I will never, ever, like him.”

            “I have an idea… Let’s three-way with him!” There was a slight pause, “…Three-way… With Justin Bieber… EEKKKKKK!”

            “Dear Lord!” I covered my ears, getting sparkles in my hair. “You’re gonna break my speaker, not to mention my eardrums!”

            “Who’s screaming?!” My mom yelled from the kitchen, I presume.

            “Just Maura!” I replied. “Anyways, er, I don’t think so…”

            “Do it or I’ll never speak to you again.”

            “Fine, you drive an easy bargain. Let’s never talk again. Bye!” I immediately hung up my cell.

            Three seconds later “A Boy” started blasting. I let the song overlap with itself, seeing as though it was already playing from my iPod speakers. “Hello?”

            “Did you turn that song up?” Maura asked.

            “Maybe I did…”

            “Okay, whatever, let’s do this.”

            “…Fiiiiine. But I won. I always win.”

            “Right, whatever… I’M WAITING!”

            I sighed and was about to type in some random number and be like “Oops, he gave me a fake number!” But I pulled out the napkin from the trash and typed it in.

            Ring. Ring. Ring.

            “I’m so excited!” Maura squeeled.

            “Shh! You’re not allowed to talk!”

            Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. “The owner of this phone is not available at this time. Please leave a message after the tone.”

            Beep. “Uh, hey… Justin, it’s Marley. Er, I don’t think I told you my name. I’m the girl you met at the concert, you know, the one you kissed? Uh… Yeah…”

            I abruptly hung up.

            Instead of calling me back, Maura texted me:

            //Hey, ma wants me 2 eat dinner. Gtg.//

            I sighed and replied:

            //Yeah, right. Lol, bye.//

            “Ring ring, hello? Ring ring, h-helloo?” My phone blared. That was my general ringtone.

            //RESTRICTED NUMBER//

            I answered, “First off, this isn’t Pizza Hut, second, I will not hold for ‘Joe Mama,’ third, I—”

            “Hey, Marley,”

            My heart stopped. “Justin! Hey…” Why would he give me his number if he wasn’t gonna pick up and block it? “Why’d you give me your number if you weren’t gonna answer and block it?”

            “I have to screen all my calls. Even if I don’t tell anyone my number and use a fake name, I still get calls from fans…”

            “You gave your number to me. How do you know I’m not a fan?” Silence… Then laughter. “Okay, whatever… I should tweet your number to the world!”

            “Ha! What, you have like one-hundred followers?”

            “Oh go screw yourself!” I forced out a laugh. “Anyways, Justin, you know we don’t have a relationship right? When I kissed you, I was just… Messing around. The kiss was too fast, anyways. You could even say if this were a book right now, people would think it’s hard to follow.”

            “Huh?”

            “What I’m trying to say is… That kiss was a mistake. We can’t date. And besides, I’m not your type.”

            “What, now you suddenly know my type?” He spat. “You don’t know me.”

            “That’s cold, man.”

            “Now you’re some ghetto homie?”

            “What? No! I’m just saying… I can’t have you. You can’t have me, and—”

            “I can’t have you? Who said I wanted you!” Geez, he can’t take rejection well.

            “Well, seeing as though you kissed me pretty passionately the other day—”

            “I kissed you passionately?! As I recall, you were the one who kissed—”

            Click.

            I always knew the end button was my true best friend.