The Art of Still Pretending

Eighteen

Blair POV.
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   You know how some say, people want what they can't have?

   I think I want Jake.

   He's been staying away from me for these past couple of weeks. And it's been bugging me, a lot.

   After our date and him coming over after, we talked every day for almost two weeks straight. We even hung out multiple times those weeks. And then one day, poof.

   It's as if all those late night calls, all those random texts throughout the day, didn't happen.

   I have to be honest, I've texted him twice and called him once. That might not seem like a lot to some people, but to me that was more than enough.

   Like come on, I'm hot shit. Boys are supposed to be chasing me, not me fawning over another stupid Heart boy.

   I can't blame him though, he did warn me. Told me that we couldn't happen. I was just hoping he maybe would forget.

   Not even that, I just didn't fully like him then. But then things started to change. And I guess he was noticing too, so he drew the line.

    Why might I be bringing this up, you may wonder?

   Because it's 1:35 in the morning, and I'm currently getting a phone call from the devil himself.

   Should I answer it? Probably not, but I am very curious to see what he has to say. Especially for avoiding me, for almost two weeks.

   No need to lecture, I know the saying. Curiosity killed the cat... but people never seem to mention the second part. Satisfaction brought it back.

   I pick up the phone and press answer. My ear if filled with loud music and peopling talking. "Jake?"

   "Blair." I can't pinpoint the emotion in his voice, but I can hear the slur in it. "I need a favor. Can you pick me up? Please." I would of said no, if it weren't for the desperation I noticed.

   I sigh, "Send me the address." I hang up and get into my car. My eyes widen when I see the address he's at. He's where all the frat houses are, but the frat he's at is a frat full of scums.

   It doesn't take me long before arriving. I try to call him, twice, but he doesn't answer. I groan and look down at my pajamas.

   I walk, more like storm, into the frat house. "Hey," a drugged up guy says to me. I can tell by his blood shot eyes, and the powder residue on his shirt.

   "Hey, do you know where Jake Heart is?" I ask, looking around the room.

   "I can tell you where he is, but you might not like how you find him." The guy snickers to himself.

   I hold back an eye roll, "Where is he?" I don't wait for the guy to say anything again, after he points to the right. I can smell the weed when I enter the room. I make way past the drunk and drugged up people.

   My mouth practically drops at what I see. There on the ripped up couch is Jake.

   But not alone.

   Some might not be able to tell it's him. Would just think it's a normal player. A guy having fun. A girl on his left arm, while he's making out with the girl on his right. I knew it was him though. I can tell my the numbers tattooed on his arm.

   I feel a ping of hurt in my stomach.

   Turn around. I tell myself, walk away. But why? He didn't owe me anything. Now I understand why he's been distance, he saw something that I didn't. He saw, that I was getting to close.

   But instead of listening to my head, I listen to my heart. I walk towards him, pushing away any trace of hurt I felt.  "Jake." I say. He completely ignores it.

   I know I said it though, because the the girl on his left looks up. "Jake." I say again, this time letting anger sneak it's way into my words. Once again, ignored. "Ja..." he sighs and pulls away.

   My eyes widen when I see his bloodshot eyes. "Blair." He says, "I was a little busy."

   I start to fume at his words. "Oh, you're busy?" I laughed, angry. "Well, let me just go fuck off then. Did you not think I was busy when you called? Asking me to pick your drunk ass up?"

   "You're mad." He says with a nonchalant face.

   "Are you serious? You call me at one in the morning, asking me to pick you up. After you have been ignoring me for weeks. And then don't answer your phone, and I walk into to see you making out with a girl. Oh, and then have your arm around another..." I could of kept going off at him. I actually would of loved to, but then his stupid voice interrupts me.

   "You're jealous?"

   He's fucking kidding me right? Was I jealous? Yes, but he didn't need to know or say that.

   "Of course I'm not jealous." I lie.

   A sly smirk spreads across his face. "You don't have to lie to me Blair, I know you're jealous. Did you want to be the girl making out with me?" He asks standing up.

   I look around embarrassed. But see that no one is paying attention. They're either too coked up, or too drunk to care. "No..." I start to deny.

   He steps closer to me. "Liar, what do you want?"

   "I want you..." I was going to say that I wanted him to get into my car, but for some reason the way he was looking at me, made me unable to finish my thought.

   "Yea?" He smirked. "And what do you want from me?"

   "I..." I can't answer that, because I didn't know the real answer.

   "Do you want my body?" He moves closer to me. "My hands on you?" He lifts up my chin. "My lips on yours." He whispers in my ear.

   Yes and no.

   "You don't have to answer, because I know what you really want." He laughed. "I could give you all of that. But you don't want just that, now do you? Do you want the one thing I can't give you? Do you want me to want you, like you?"

   My heart drops, because yes. No matter how much I wish it wasn't true, that's s what I wanted.

   He sighs and pulls away. "I was really hoping for the other answer."
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