"Jamie, I brought you something."
It was true. Peter Wentz was probably the last man on earth that she wanted to see right now. But standing on her stoop in the snow, she couldn't just let him freeze.
She sighed and let him in.
"All right, Peter, but just this once?"
"Yeah."
His teeth were chattering as he tugged his mittens off and stamped snow off of boots. Jamie's foot tapped rapidly on the tile. After a minute she sighed, exasperated, and looked at Peter, who was currently doing nothing.
"Why are you here?"
"I brought you something!"
"Well let's have it then."
"Upstairs."
Jamie was ushered up her own staircase and into her own bedroom. She questioned why she was even in this situation. It was noon on a midwinter's day and she was currently being seated by her ex. Who she still did not want to see, she might add.
"Peter, stop."
He did. Jamie sat on the white comforter and looked up expectantly. Peter's almost drunkenly misted honey eyes traveled to the window. He remembered this. He remembered it all.
"Did you come here for anything in particular?"
Peter was snapped out of his nostalgia. He plopped down next to Jamie and smiled.
"I remember this bed..."
"Peter-"
"I know you do."
Whispers and hands on hips. Jamie was inching away from Peter. This wasn't what she intended at all. But...
"You remember this..."
Peter pulled the collar of his shirt to the side. A long scratch, Jamie remembered came from her fingernail, ran over the flesh. Jamie tore her attention away from Peter's dark eyes.
"And you remember this, of course."
There was a sort of twisted pleasure in Peter's voice by making Jamie squirm. Where was the safe word now? Jamie had hit the wall. She couldn't scoot any further, and Peter had taken hold of her ankle.
"Don't you?"
"Peter, stop-"
He raised his eyebrows in question before dipping his head to her ear.
"This bed...of course you remember this bed. You remember me in this bed. Both of us in this bed. Moans, sighs..."
Peter trailed a hand to play with Jamie's hem. He continued to whisper. Continued to reminisce on their sex life.
"Peter, knock it off. Go home-"
The boy glued his lips to Jamie's and pulled her on top of his lap. Resolve started to melt, as well as Jamie. Peter propped himself against the mound of pillows and moved to the girl's ear again, holding her neck close.
"You remember this. Admit it."
"Peter-"
"I have to go, babe."
The boy forced one last kiss. He untangled limbs and slipped out of the window onto the roof. Jamie grabbed at the collar of Peter's shirt and collided their lips roughly.
"Don't-"
He jumped off the roof and trudged home through the snow.
"This is ridiculous."
Jamie was pacing. It was 2:48 AM. Peter had gone home to his parents' house and was probably fast asleep by now.
Cuddled up in a pair of flannel pajamas, maybe a teddy bear thrown into the mix of blankets, hair tousled-
Jamie glared at her feet.
"I'm in love with a bastard."
Jamie slid into her computer chair. The black plastic creaked slightly and she logged onto her email. 57.
Perhaps there'd be...?
She scanned for anything with the 'From:' line as 'Peter Wentz'.
But all she found was his name in subject lines.
She clicked the first line and, against her better judgment, scrolled down past the obscene comments to find-
"Peter?!"
She could hardly believe her eyes. Nothing she hadn't seen before, but...on the Internet? Where had all of her friends found these? She clicked the next email.
'Man, I Googled for your boyfriend, and look what I found!'
"How could you do that?!"
Jamie was screaming into the phone.
"Calm down, sweetie. What's wrong?"
"You know what, Peter? I liked you better before you were naked on the Internet."
"Oh, Jamie, is that what this is about? Listen, I-"
"Peter, I have listened. And I also have a reputation."
"James, I didn't-"
"And my rep does not allow for relations with fucking porn stars, Peter Wentz."
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry."
"I love you."
"You love me."
"Stop mocking me!"
"Stop mocking you? Why don't you stop mocking me?! Our whole relationship. I was a fucktoy for you!"
"Jamie, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."
"No, you won't."
"How come?"
"Because we're through. For good."
Jamie's end of the line went dead. Peter stared at his phone, dial tone echoing though his head. He slammed it to the table.
"Fuck!"
He dropped forwards on top of it, burying his face in his arm.
"Fuck."
xo, acey
homepage should be up later today
