Texas Girl (Pt 20)

This is shocking, choking, and heartbreaking. Read. Now. x

Drew's POV
I knew he was lying to me. I knew he wasn't going to be there. He would be
working the whole time. I knew it. Interviews, photo-shoots, recording
sessions. He was lying about spending time with me. It was clear. That
perfect, angelic smile on his face said it all. Behind the innocence and
happiness, was many, many layers of guilt.
I didn't seem to care though. I should be furious with him. Furious that
he'd lie to me like that just to make me go to New York with him. But in
fact, I was the exact opposite. He lied so he could have me. It was sick,
and wrong, but it made me feel... special. Like if he wanted me that badly,
then who cares what he did to get me? Even if he was lying to my face. He
wanted me. Nothing could feel better than that.
But did he really want me? Really? I mean, does he just think I'm hot, or
does he actually... actually love me? He can't love me. If he did, he
wouldn't keep doing this to me. Kissing me whenever something didn't go his
way, or running his fingers along my hip if I was in a mood with him. If he
loved me, he wouldn't do that. He'd talk to me about it. Sincerely...
lovingly.
He hadn't done that once.
Face it Drew, you're just his play-thing.

Justin's POV
I was lying to her. Again. All the time. It's all I do. Lie, lie, lie. Just
to get what I want. I want her. She's mine, right?
Sometimes, I think I really do love her. Honestly, I do. But, others...
She's just a girl. An extremely beautiful girl. I'm a teenage guy. Is it
wrong for me to want her? No, it's not. But is it wrong for me to make her
feel like she's loved when really, she's just a play-thing? Yes. That's
wrong. No, scratch that, it's demented. It's sick, and wrong, and demented.
I wasn't raised like this. I was taught to treat women with respect, and
here I am, with my Best Friend, and I'm treating her like dirt. Like a...
bad word. She's not. She's good, and wholesome, and pure. I'm treating her
like a prostitute. Kissing her when she doesn't do what I want, touching
her when she's annoyed with me, or calling her cute names like "baby girl"
or "pretty baby" because I know she finds it difficult to hate me when I
say that.
I'm playing with her heart. The question is: Does she know it?
She can't. Drew's smarter than that. If she knew I didn't love her, and
only kept her around to kiss and touch when it suited me, she'd be gone in
a heartbeat. I'm surprised she's still here now. I swear she saw right
through me earlier, when I told her I'd be there for her in New York.
If the circumstances were different, if she had been from Chicago or
Seattle, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have cared about being in such a big
city by herself. She could have gone out to Starbucks or McDonald's and not
give a shit. Drew was from Apple Springs. May I remind you of the
population count: 2,654 people. Wait, no, 2655 - a woman down the street
had a baby girl last week.
Anyway, I understood why she was scared. Massive skyscrapers, not much room
to breathe in the streets, scary hobos, muggers... Gulp rapists. She
didn't want to go, and I should have accepted that.
What was I supposed to do? Leave her here with Frank? No. No freakin way.
I'll eat my Lakers hoodie before I leave her here with HIM. He doesn't even
deserve a name. Frank will now be addressed as: HIM, or THAT GUY.
Yes, I lied to her about having time together, but I was doing her a
favour. Really. It was either Frank, or a hotel room.
God I'm an ass sometimes.
Sigh. I know what I have to do. I hate it, but it's right.
............................................................................
I pulled myself out of my thoughts, sitting up straight in my double bed.
Drew mumbled and tried to tug me back down beside her by my shirtless
shoulders. Trust me, it was tempting. I looked over at the clock on the
bedside table. It read 5:26AM. Screw it. If I don't do it now, I never
will.
"Drew, Drew wake up" I shook her softly, and she made a groaning noise,
keeping her eyes squeezed shut. "Drew I gotta talk to you. I promise you
can go back to sleep after". Not that she'd want to. I'm pretty sure she
wouldn't want to even look at me, let alone sleep in my bed. She pulled
herself up beside me, rubbing her eyes to adjust to the early morning
light. "What's up?" she smiled softly, eyes still sleep-hazed as she leaned
in to kiss me.
"Don't.. kiss me, Drew" I shied away. If she kissed me, I'd never have the
heart to say what I needed to say. Her expression changed from gentle and
happy to concerned and alarmed in a heartbeat. "Justin... what's going on?"
she whispered, trying to hide the evident hurt tone coating her Southern
accent.
Deep breath. I didn't have the strength to look at her any more. I stared
down into my hands, tracing the lines of my palm with my fingers. "You're
not coming to New York with me". Silence. Not awkward, but painful. I'd
rather my Mom walk in with us making out than go through that painful
silence again. "What?" her voice was quiet and sharp, almost as if she
didn't believe it, or did, but just didn't want to. "You don't want to come
to New York, so I'm going by myself. You're staying here, in Texas" I tried
to explain it more clearly. My heart was telling me: What the crap are you
doing? You want her to come right? Why are you telling her no? The entire
lie of "Oh we can spend loads of time together like a happy family and eat
room service till our heart's content" is so she'll go to New York. Why are
you jeopardising that?
I ignored it. "But I want to come to New York with you Justin". Too far. I
exploded in anger, clambering out of the bed and yelling at her "No! No you
don't Drew! You just think you do! I made you think you want to come with
me, when really you're scared out of your life to be in New York by
yourself!" I ran my hands through my hair. A tear began to roll down Drew's
cheek. "But I'm not gonna be by myself... you said-". "I said what Drew?
That we could spend time together and go out for lunch and shit! Why do you
think I'm going for three months? I have so much crap to do that I don't
even have time to breathe, let alone hang out with you and act all shitty
and romantic!" I began to rant. More tears fell down her cheeks. I felt bad
for making her cry. It was wrong, and it hurt to watch her hurt, but I was
so god damn angry. Her voice was a shaky, begging noise when she spoke
"I'll go with you, and it doesn't matter we don't have to be together all
the time I'll just stay in the hotel and you can-". I cut her off again.
"Drew! Stop it! Just stop it! You don't want to do that! I don't want you
to do that! I don't want you there Drew!". Ok, that looked like it stung.
That last sentence, looked like it was gonna bruise. "You don't... want me
there" she repeated, almost trying to make sense of my words.
Her eyes were tear-filled, her cheeks salt-stained as she brought in gasps
of breath, uneven from so much crying. "No, Drew, I do not want you there".
"Why not?".
That's when I blew it. Totally. Everything. Everything we had ever had, all
the arguments we had been through, romantic moments we had shared, they
were all gone with five simple words, yelled at the most innocent of girls.
"Because I don't love you!".