"Dylan, will you lie with me? Just for now." Maya asks, looking at me with a smile. She pats the spot beside her on the bed she is on and I sigh, sitting down next to her.

"Do you want to play twenty questions?" she asks.

I shrug, "Sure, why not?"

"Okay, I'll go first. What things do you like?" she asks, lying under the sheets and yawning.

"I like football... Um, I like pie...? I like strawberries and everything strawberry flavored. I like watching Supernatural, although I would never admit it to someone that isn't high. I like to sing, but only in the shower. I don't even know why I am telling you this. What about you, what do you like nerd?"

"Hmm, I like drawing but I never have time for it anymore. I like ballet, I stopped it though and I probably can't do the splits anymore. I really like monkeys and watermelons..."

"Watermelons?" I repeat.

"Yeah... I like the way its really red and bright and it tastes really good." she mumbles.

"Okay, you should go to sleep now." I say and chuckle, "Goodnight nerd." I whisper, kissing her forehead.

What am I doing?

---

I wake up and my head is pounding so hard that even my eyes hurt. I rub my index fingers against my temples.

Why do I smell like pineapples and cigarettes?

I sit up in the cream covers of the bed I'm lying in. This isn't my bed. Where am I? I throw my legs off the side of the bed and sit up. Ugh, can my head just go away for a while and come back when its feeling better?

I get out the bed and walk down the hall to another room that has a whole lot of posters and a sign on top of them all saying "Do not enter!" with a skull and cross bones.

I push the door open and lying on the bed is Dylan. Oh my god. I'm in Dylan's house. I'm in Dylan's room. All I remember is going to Sebastian's party and from there everything is a haze. Why am I in Dylan's room?

Do I leave? What day is it? What time is it? Why do I smell like pineapples? Why am I wearing a guys boxers? How old am I? Where's the bacon? Wait, what?

See, this is why I am not a morning person. You wake up and you have no idea what is happening. What year is it? 2025? I DON'T KNOW! Do you?

I see Dylan lying on his bed, he is still sleeping. Boys look so innocent when they are sleeping. So cute. Okay that was just creepy.

"Hey princess." Dylan croaks. Damn morning voices are so hot. You could look like Godzilla but your morning voice would still be hot.

It would be like; Let me just block my eyes. Perfect.

"Hey." I say and sit down on the side of the bed that Dylan is not lying on. Dylan moves closer to me and takes my hand, making little circles on my palm with his index finger. Hm, maybe just waking up has made Dylan forget that he hates me and maybe the fact that my headache is killing me is causing me not to care about how close he is to me.

Dylan's touch makes my whole body feel warm and fuzzy. "What happened last night? Why do I smell like pineapples?" I ask. Dylan chuckles, "Well, you ate quite a few brownies and they were filled with drugs and then you went on a crazy rampage, killing spongebob by stabbing a pineapple." Dylan says. I groan, "Please tell me I didn't say anything stupid."

"Well, you almost got a concussion from looking for platform nine and three quarters and you confessed your undying love for me." Dylan winks and I roll my eyes, "Well if that's true then I must have really lost my mind because there is no way in hell." I say.

Dylan frowns and then sits up, facing me, "Am I that bad?" To be honest, Dylan isn't as evil as I see him. I mean, sure, he is a perverted little man whore but these days 90% of boys are like that.

Its the sad truth that boys believe that good guys never win the race and now all boys are fighting to be bad. Although I must admit, bad boys are really sexy.

Wait, why is my mind defending Dylan?

"Well, I know about guys like you and there is no way I would love you. You're a player and I know to keep my heart away from guys like you." I say truthfully.

Its the truth. The whole 'nerd changing the bad boy' thing is all bullshit. Sure maybe the nerd falls for the guy and maybe the guy falls for the nerd but screw the rest of it, players don't change and in the end you'll end up hurt.

I would know.

"Okay, well I should probably get you home now." Dylan says, frowning and staring at his hands that are clasped together.

What's his problem?

---

Qotd: "Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday."

- Don Marquis