Note: I DID NOT WRITE THIS FIC! Lj user ohladybegood did. FULL CREDIT goes to her. Im only posting this so those without a livejournal can read :)
Justin is seriously not sure how he gets himself into these situations.
Like all of the great disasters in his life, this one started with an awesome but not particularly well-thought-out plan to win over a girl. He'd gotten the idea from an old episode of Boy Meets World, which probably should have clued him in to its guaranteed failure, but sometimes, for all his smarts, Justin overlooks the painfully, glaringly obvious.
He's never been great with women (okay, he's never even been sort of good with women), but this time it had seemed like a total slam dunk: he already knew Stevie liked him, because of the whole detention-election debacle, and he knew she wanted him to ask her out, because Alex told him so. He just had to think of a charming way to do it.
Cue Boy Meets World. And really, making a mixtape had seemed like a super awesome idea when he thought of it, but now Stevie is standing in front of him holding out Alex's tuna sandwich and asking why he put it in her locker, and did he seriously want her to kick his butt, because she would, no matter how cute he was.
"No!" Justin yelps, snatching the tuna sandwich out of her hand, "No no no, I didn't mean to put this in there, I must have accidentally switched the bags."
Stevie frowns at him with that half-wary glare she gives Harper whenever she starts talking about fruit and silent movies going together like broccoli and tofu. (Apparently, these two things are a natural pair.) "What bags?"
Justin shifts miserably through his locker, but the brown bag that contained Stevie's mixtape and love note were, as he suspected, absent. He'd put them in the wrong locker this morning, which meant that Alex held the mixtape and, by extension, his social life in her hands.
Touché, universe. Touché.
"Nevermind," he sighs, shaking his head in defeat and slamming his head against his locker door. He heads "I'll see you when I pick up Alex from detention tomorrow."
Stevie shrugs and leaves him there, tuna fish sandwich hanging limply in one hand and empty backpack in the other. The bell rings, signaling the start of fourth period, which means it's just about time for Alex to skip out and go shopping.
Right on cue, he feels her come to stand behind him and snakes her arm around his waist, hand clutching a small brown paper bag.
"Looking for this?" she asks cheerfully, snatching it away before he can wrestle it from her.
He turns, folding his arms over his chests. "Give it back," he demands, hopelessly because demanding never works on Alex unless one of them is in tears (usually him) or magically transformed into a pair of socks (usually her).
Alex smiles sweetly at him. "But why? It's such a nice, heartfelt expression of how you feel about me."
"It's not - "
"'I Wanna Grow Old With You'," Alex continues, speaking over him as she reads off the track listing on the back. "You Belong To Me, Sideways, Fever, I Think I Love You, Never Gonna Give You – oh, Justin. You're Rick Rolling me? That's your pitch?"
He grabs the CD out of her hand and shoves it sullenly into his backpack. "It's supposed to be corny," he mutters, trying to pretend like he's not actually blushing right now.
Alex reaches into his bag and pulls the CD back out, glaring at him in this sort of . . . weirdly possessive way. "That's mine," she snaps. "Just because I'm making fun of it doesn't mean I don't like it. It's like American Idol."
Justin stares at her.
She's . . . kind of serious right now. Or at least, she's doing a fabulous job of making it look like she is, because she's staring down thoughtfully at the CD and catching her bottom lip the way she always does when she's thinking. ("Plotting" might be more accurate.)
"A-lex," he says slowly, "you do know that was meant for – "
She cuts him off by suddenly launching at him, CD clutched tight in her fingers, and pressing her mouth to his.
It's fairly tame, all things considered; Alex kisses him for a few seconds and he's too startled to do anything but stand there while she presses herself into him. The corner of the CD case sort of digs into the back of his neck, but he finds himself not really minding.
"You're such a cheeseball," Alex whispers against his mouth when she pulls away, and now that she's gone it's like Justin's body catches up with his brain and he leans back in toward her instinctively. She pulls back and hits his chest lightly. He blinks bewilderedly, because he's pretty sure she started it. "Someone could see," she hisses.
Two things come to mind at that, #1 being that he can't believe he's actually having this conversation, with his littler sister, no less, and #2 those are fine words coming from the girl who just attacked him with her mouth. "It's class time," he hears himself say, when what he means is, 'That's okay, we're not going to kiss again, it would be weird if it happened twice because we're related.'
Alex rolls her eyes. "You're the only high school boy in the world who thinks that's a reason not to be roaming the halls," she says with a sigh.
He just looks at her, and should probably feel weirder about this bizarre accident than he actually does. Alex shrugs and drops the CD into her side bag. "Well," she declares with a grin, "It's almost lunchtime, which means I've filled my learning quota for the day. I'll see you at home."
It's nothing she hasn't said before, but she kind of leans in when she says it, her mouth brushing against the spot that connects his ear to his head, and he gets shivers along his arms. I'll see you at home sounds as much like an enticement as a promise as a threat and suddenly, Justin's a lot more excited about last period than he should be.
There will be time to feel weird about this later, he decides as he comes to a decision and shoves the remainder of his books into his backpack and following Alex out.
He's never skipped class before, but then again, he's never made out with his sister before, either. First time for everything, he supposes.