Post by JohnyDarko on Sept 30, 2011 16:51:11 GMT -5
In all of his seventeen years Dean had never seen his room so perfect. He had spent all morning fixing every single aspect he could think of. A good guy cleans his room before he invites a girl over, but Dean was not a good guy. He was a great one. There was not one embarrassing poster, stuffed animal, dirty magazine, or nerdy comic within even the most prying eye’s sight. The carpet was freshly vacuumed, and all of his things were completely dust free. His things were all neat, but he took great care to ensure they weren’t obsessively ordered. Why stop there? He had laid out her favorite novel on his nightstand with a bookmark halfway through, bought a few CD’s from her favorite band to place on top of his stereo, and made his bed with fresh sheets. There was even half finished Calculus homework thrown in the corner to show he cared…but not too much. He had done this dance before, and he knew it well.
So why was Dean a good guy for knowing a trick or two? His room was always decently clean to be honest. There weren’t any dirty magazines to hide, he had actually read most of the book on his nightstand, and he already owned half of the CD’s she was in to. What’s more, he didn’t just want to screw this chick. Dean really liked her. He had no problem getting girls, but he had problems keeping them. Most of the time they took him for an average shallow guy or were so ditsy he didn’t know if they thought anything of him at all. Fortunately Emma seemed to be different. She had been looking for a nice guy all year, and she thought she had struck gold. Maybe she was right.
Dean had finished with his room a little earlier than planned, so he passed some time listening to music on his laptop with his favorite headphones. He almost didn’t hear the knock at his door before it slowly opened. “Hey, your dad let me in.” He was caught a little offgaurd, but he was so happy to see her that it didn’t really matter. Anyone could tell how much time Emma had put into her outfit and makeup with the slightest effort, and it really showed. Everything was just as short and tight as it could be without looking slutty. Dean closed his laptop and got off his bed to give her a hug. “Hey there you! Glad you could make it. Let me go grab some drinks real quick.” She gave him a quick hug and let him slip past her down the hallway.
She had expected him to be a little bit more awkward the first time she went in his room and the idea he would leave her alone in it so soon was shocking to her. She sat on the edge of the bed for almost no time at all before the urge to snoop around became to irresistible. He seemed so perfect she just knew he was hiding something. Emma glanced at the door from time to time as she made her quick rounds through all of the obvious places. Under his mattress was clean, his underwear drawer held no secrets, and his bookshelf was jam packed of solid high level reading material. It looked lived in, but still suspiciously sparse. There was no way it always looked this good, but after a few seconds she gave up for fear of getting caught.
“Hey, do you want a pepsi or ice tea?” She looked down the hallway and got ready to yell her answer back to the kitchen. That was when she thought about his laptop that he carelessly left on his bed. Obviously she asked for tea. Emma hated it, but it would take longer to get the ice a pour it into a glass. She could always say she just wanted to see what he was listening to when she came in right? Her fingers flew across the keys as she pulled up his internet history. “Un fucking believable…” She couldn’t help but mutter to herself when she saw that it was actually clean. More than that, it was filled with sites for writing tips. Emma could hear ice clank into a glass and guessed she only had a few seconds left so she pulled up Word. If he really was a writer and she found a poem about herself then that would settle it. Dean would officially be perfect. He heart practically melted when she did find a file named ‘Dear Emma’ and she immediately opened it.
“Hey, I don’t know how you like your tea, so I just put one sugar in it” He walked through the door midsentence with two drinks in his hand and saw Emma on his laptop. He put both glasses down, and tried to act like it didn’t bother him so he didn’t look suspicious. If she hadn’t shown up early he would have logged off but it was no big deal. He was used to having nosey parents and he cleared his history every week or so anyway. Besides, she was smiling. Maybe she was looking through some of his family pictures or something. Emma’s smile began to fade and Deans mind raced through everything he had done on his laptop in the past few days. He couldn’t think of anything, but he tried to look at the screen to see what she was doing. He knew it was bad when she held up a finger and told him to wait a second.
“What the fuck is this Dean?” “I don’t know, what is it?” She turned the laptop around to face him and revealed several pages of text. “THIS Dean.” He tried to laugh it off, still not really understanding what it was. “I write a lot of short stories. Im sorry you don’t like that one, but I have a few really good ones if you want me to show you.” “Oh really? You have a lot of these?” Her tone was enough to make him realize what she had found. Shit…who checks someone’s laptop for Word documents?! “Surprised? Yeah, you should be. You need help Dean. You need serious fucking professional help.” She looked at the two untouched drinks, then back at Dean. She was going to look him in the eye and get a good explanation. “Look Emma, when I wrote this…” She cut him off impatiently, “Is this for me? Did you write this to show me?” Dean started to say yes, but he could only manage a nod. “This was over a month ago ok? I was depressed, and irrational…” She cut him short again even faster, “Depressed? God damn Dean, I haven’t even gotten to THAT part yet!” He looked at her as boldly as he could even though he felt so defeated. “Well maybe you should.”
For the next couple of minutes there was dead silence. Emma ran her eyes over line after line, constantly having to read things twice just to believe them while Dean struggled to remember exactly how much he had written about. About a month ago he sat down and poured his heart over his keyboard all night long. It went over everything no one else knew about him, and he planned to show it to her a few days after they started to get serious. The simple act of writing everything down made him feel better, and he eventually decided there would never be a right time to show her. Dean hated to keep secrets, but some things are too much for even the best of people. Turns out he was right. It was to almost too much for him to handle, and the right time was never.
She closed his computer and put it beside her on the bed. “So it wasn’t a demented story from the mind of some perfect guy. It was the life confessions of some sickfuck that dragged me into the plot. Isn’t it bad enough that YOU are in it?” Dean rubbed his temples and tried to find a way to explain everything in some way that would make it seem the least bit better. “So I should have just lied to you? Is that the kind of guy you want?” Emma stood up and headed for the door. “What you SHOULD have done was end your story after the first line.” She started to walk away from him, but Dean wasn’t finished. “This isn’t some story you bitch, its ME. It’s my life” “I know dean. And it should have ended after ‘When I was thirteen…’”
So why was Dean a good guy for knowing a trick or two? His room was always decently clean to be honest. There weren’t any dirty magazines to hide, he had actually read most of the book on his nightstand, and he already owned half of the CD’s she was in to. What’s more, he didn’t just want to screw this chick. Dean really liked her. He had no problem getting girls, but he had problems keeping them. Most of the time they took him for an average shallow guy or were so ditsy he didn’t know if they thought anything of him at all. Fortunately Emma seemed to be different. She had been looking for a nice guy all year, and she thought she had struck gold. Maybe she was right.
Dean had finished with his room a little earlier than planned, so he passed some time listening to music on his laptop with his favorite headphones. He almost didn’t hear the knock at his door before it slowly opened. “Hey, your dad let me in.” He was caught a little offgaurd, but he was so happy to see her that it didn’t really matter. Anyone could tell how much time Emma had put into her outfit and makeup with the slightest effort, and it really showed. Everything was just as short and tight as it could be without looking slutty. Dean closed his laptop and got off his bed to give her a hug. “Hey there you! Glad you could make it. Let me go grab some drinks real quick.” She gave him a quick hug and let him slip past her down the hallway.
She had expected him to be a little bit more awkward the first time she went in his room and the idea he would leave her alone in it so soon was shocking to her. She sat on the edge of the bed for almost no time at all before the urge to snoop around became to irresistible. He seemed so perfect she just knew he was hiding something. Emma glanced at the door from time to time as she made her quick rounds through all of the obvious places. Under his mattress was clean, his underwear drawer held no secrets, and his bookshelf was jam packed of solid high level reading material. It looked lived in, but still suspiciously sparse. There was no way it always looked this good, but after a few seconds she gave up for fear of getting caught.
“Hey, do you want a pepsi or ice tea?” She looked down the hallway and got ready to yell her answer back to the kitchen. That was when she thought about his laptop that he carelessly left on his bed. Obviously she asked for tea. Emma hated it, but it would take longer to get the ice a pour it into a glass. She could always say she just wanted to see what he was listening to when she came in right? Her fingers flew across the keys as she pulled up his internet history. “Un fucking believable…” She couldn’t help but mutter to herself when she saw that it was actually clean. More than that, it was filled with sites for writing tips. Emma could hear ice clank into a glass and guessed she only had a few seconds left so she pulled up Word. If he really was a writer and she found a poem about herself then that would settle it. Dean would officially be perfect. He heart practically melted when she did find a file named ‘Dear Emma’ and she immediately opened it.
“Hey, I don’t know how you like your tea, so I just put one sugar in it” He walked through the door midsentence with two drinks in his hand and saw Emma on his laptop. He put both glasses down, and tried to act like it didn’t bother him so he didn’t look suspicious. If she hadn’t shown up early he would have logged off but it was no big deal. He was used to having nosey parents and he cleared his history every week or so anyway. Besides, she was smiling. Maybe she was looking through some of his family pictures or something. Emma’s smile began to fade and Deans mind raced through everything he had done on his laptop in the past few days. He couldn’t think of anything, but he tried to look at the screen to see what she was doing. He knew it was bad when she held up a finger and told him to wait a second.
“What the fuck is this Dean?” “I don’t know, what is it?” She turned the laptop around to face him and revealed several pages of text. “THIS Dean.” He tried to laugh it off, still not really understanding what it was. “I write a lot of short stories. Im sorry you don’t like that one, but I have a few really good ones if you want me to show you.” “Oh really? You have a lot of these?” Her tone was enough to make him realize what she had found. Shit…who checks someone’s laptop for Word documents?! “Surprised? Yeah, you should be. You need help Dean. You need serious fucking professional help.” She looked at the two untouched drinks, then back at Dean. She was going to look him in the eye and get a good explanation. “Look Emma, when I wrote this…” She cut him off impatiently, “Is this for me? Did you write this to show me?” Dean started to say yes, but he could only manage a nod. “This was over a month ago ok? I was depressed, and irrational…” She cut him short again even faster, “Depressed? God damn Dean, I haven’t even gotten to THAT part yet!” He looked at her as boldly as he could even though he felt so defeated. “Well maybe you should.”
For the next couple of minutes there was dead silence. Emma ran her eyes over line after line, constantly having to read things twice just to believe them while Dean struggled to remember exactly how much he had written about. About a month ago he sat down and poured his heart over his keyboard all night long. It went over everything no one else knew about him, and he planned to show it to her a few days after they started to get serious. The simple act of writing everything down made him feel better, and he eventually decided there would never be a right time to show her. Dean hated to keep secrets, but some things are too much for even the best of people. Turns out he was right. It was to almost too much for him to handle, and the right time was never.
She closed his computer and put it beside her on the bed. “So it wasn’t a demented story from the mind of some perfect guy. It was the life confessions of some sickfuck that dragged me into the plot. Isn’t it bad enough that YOU are in it?” Dean rubbed his temples and tried to find a way to explain everything in some way that would make it seem the least bit better. “So I should have just lied to you? Is that the kind of guy you want?” Emma stood up and headed for the door. “What you SHOULD have done was end your story after the first line.” She started to walk away from him, but Dean wasn’t finished. “This isn’t some story you bitch, its ME. It’s my life” “I know dean. And it should have ended after ‘When I was thirteen…’”
and impossibly amazing! 