It's been two weeks since my trip to Los Angeles and it's depressingly amazing, does that make sense? Oh well, who cares it sounds good. So, it's been depressingly amazing just how long ago my vacation seems. I've settled back into my routine except for one change, I bought a treadmill. It pretty much added up to all my extra play money for the next five months but budget isn't a legitimate word in my personal dictionary so if I want to splurge in the next five months I'm going to do it. I've always wanted my own treadmill and I've run on it everyday since I had it delivered. I'm not on some mission to look like Naomi Campbell but I know from the past that when I work out I have a lot more energy. Besides, I'm not giving up my favorite foods for anything. Why does the food that tastes the best the food you can't have? Screw that. The doorbell rings and I skip over to the door,
"Hey baby." Elliott grunts as I run into his arms and nearly tackle him,
"Are you happy to see me?" I smile,
"Of course but even happier to see my food." He sighs and hands over my bag with the grease spots all over it,
"This stuff is poison. It'll kill you." I roll my eyes and flop on the couch,
"At least I'll die with a smile." I pull out my cheese steak sandwich and curly fries despite his groans and faces,
"So, how was the city of Angels?" I jump up and grab a bottle of water as I called out from the kitchen,
"It was so nice. I want to go back." He smiles and throws me a devious look,
"And how was Mr. Beautiful?" I know he's talking about Nick but I play stupid instead,
"Eric is great. He's a great guy." He rolls his eyes and swatted me on the butt as I walk back by,
"I mean your Backstreet Boy." I look at the TV flipping through channels a mile a minute as he decides what he wanted to watch,
"He's fine, they're back on tour." I look at him as he steals one of my fries,
"I thought they will kill you?" He props his feet up on the coffee table,
"Everything in moderation. So, one of my friends has the biggest crush on your little friend Nick, is he gay?" I look over at him and frown,
"He is not gay."
"What?" I ask when I see the look he throws,
"Are you sure? He looks a little feminine." I shake my head,
"He's just pretty, that's all." He nods and smiles,
"Pretty gay. Are you SURE he's not at least bisexual?" I roll my eyes,
"He likes girls." He shrugs,
"I think he's probably had at least an experience." I actually thought about it for the first time. The thought never entered my mind before that he was anything but heterosexual,
"Anything is POSSIBLE I guess but he's not gay." We hung out the rest of the night watching TV with me telling him all about my trip to Los Angeles.
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Mixed Feelings
Chapter 29