• Tomorrow Will Be Different • {J.C} (P.1)

• Chapter Nineteen •

Erin hadn't seen Julian in two days—not since blindsiding her by telling her that she was pretty... again.

She thought back to when he had kissed her; when he had been mere inches from her face, staring at her. It made her uncomfortable at first, but Erin's apprehensions disappeared as she got lost in the softness of his features.

When she looked into his eyes and saw that he was staring back, she suddenly became uncomfortable again—which prompted her to ask why he was staring.
"Because you're really pretty."

Julian had said it a certain way—as if his reason should've been obvious. She recalled how humbly stupid she felt as she asked him the simple question of 'What?'—as if he had misspoken and she had misheard.
"You're really pretty. I just- I never noticed it before."

Erin admired his honesty; that up until that moment—up until he was shitfaced—Jules had never even noticed her.

What Erin did not admire about the drunken incident, was that he had called her pretty with the expectation of getting laid. She knew it the moment he was about to kiss her again—what he thought was going to happen next.

Erin had thought about that look in his eyes a lot, wondering what it meant—if it meant anything at all.

Just as Erin started to think that maybe his kiss had meant something, there was a half naked girl coming out of his bedroom.

        He had been nice the following morning—Julian even gave her a smile when she came into the kitchen. It was a quick smile she hadn't seen from him before; like he was elated to see her, even if only for a split second.

She was skeptically confused about Julian's behavior that day, but never pried for the particular reason.

Erin hoped to make it to the show, but when her car wouldn't start she saw it as the universe's way of telling her not to go.

When seeing the leggy brunette coming out his room, it finally occurred to Erin why he had kissed her in the first place—she was simply his only option that night.

When Julian had dropped her off at the record store, however, he had said it again—he said that she was pretty. After the initial shock wore off, Erin's confusion worsened. Why the fuck would he tell her that?

"So you and Jules gettin along okay?" Albert spoke from behind the wheel, glancing to Erin—seemingly inconspicuous. "He told me he dropped you off at work the other day."

"I wanted to walk, but I couldn't find an umbrella."

"Yeah, he said it was pouring down—said you still wanted to walk, even after he offered." Al smirked. "It's almost like you were trying to avoid him for something... something stupid he did."

Erin shook her head. She wasn't sure what to make of Albert's tone; it was almost like he was accusing her of something, as if cryptically speaking—like he knew something he wasn't supposed to.

Erin didn't hold back, "His behavior is stupid—so yeah, that's why I was trying to avoid him."

"And here I thought we were friends." Albert shook his head with exaggerated dismay as Erin's eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Jules slips you the tongue and you don't tell me about it—we're supposed to be friends."

Erin laughed; she shook her head as her face flushed a deep hue of pink. "He was so drunk—oh my god, he was so drunk. In his words, he was hammered."

"That's what he said." Albert's grin began to fade. "I don't really buy it though."

"No, he definitely was."

"Yeah but, Jules is always aware of himself. He knew what he was doing when he did it."

Erin strongly disagreed with Al's statement. Julian may have been aware of his actions, but the alcohol coursing through his veins skewed his judgement.

Jules saw Erin through drunken lenses—hazy, rose colored glasses. She wouldn't doubt Julian to put the moves on Albert had he been the one knocking on his door that night.

"Whether he did or he didn't, it doesn't matter; he was drunk—it didn't mean anything." Erin said.

"That's a relief, or else that'd make this whole arrangement pretty fucking awkward."

Narrowing her eyes with an overtly sweet smile, Erin flipped her messy bun with the flick of her wrist.
       "Are you finally asking me out?"

         Albert laughed as he shook his head. "I tell you what, if I hadn't known you as Mike's girlfriend, I probably would've by now. Unfortunately for you, I only see you as a little sister—so take that with what you will." Al started to light a cigarette, cranking down the window before turning the (broken) A/C on full-blast.
"I'm glad you guys are getting along, but I'd appreciate whatever's going on to stay casual."

"Nothing is going on—nothing ever will go on either. Besides, I'm moving back to Carolina soon anyway."

"Which is exactly why I don't want anything happening between you two." Al took a long drag, blowing smoke toward the cracked window.

Erin waited for Albert to elaborate. She stared at the side of his face from the passenger seat—impatiently waiting for him to continue. She didn't like what he had just said; mostly because she didn't understand what he meant by it.

"Go on..." Erin rolled her wrist, humorously gesturing for Al to carry on with his sentiment.

Al sighed with a subtle shake of the head. "I know you think Jules is an asshole-"

"Oh I don't think—I know." Erin scoffed out a chuckle.

"He's got a big heart-"

"And a big ego, and a big, arrogant head-"

"I don't want him falling for you and you takin' off on him—he's a good person and he doesn't deserve that. It's good you guys are getting along, but I don't wanna be in the middle of it when the shit blows up in his face."

The only thing Erin could do was laugh. "You've gotta be kidding me—Jules doesn't even like me, okay? I don't particularly like him either." Erin's brows furrowed; she was unexpectedly angry.
"What about me? You think I don't have feelings?—That I don't have a heart?"

"You're stronger than he is." Al shrugged. "I don't know—I just know you'd be able to handle it better than he could. But it's not gonna happen though—you don't like him—he doesn't like you."

"I would never sleep with such a man-whore. Exactly how low do you think my standards are?"

"Well, you were with Mike for almost two years, so I'd say pretty fucking low."

Erin couldn't argue about that—Albert was right.