When Two Worlds Collide: Chapter Seven
Miley closes her eyes in agony and bites down on her lip hard. She breathes for a moment, exhaling and inhaling slowly before fluttering her eyes open and pierces her skin again; sending the needle through the last hole. She then pulls the string all together to send the skin to touch another. That’s when she relaxes and lays back in the chair she’s sitting in.
Stitching yourself hurts like a bitch.
She breathes her regular, soft pace. She realized the bullet that Tony struck didn’t hit her leg, but simply just grazed it. Miley folds her body into the restful seat, allowing the pain to subside. Suddenly, there is a knock at her door. Her eyes flash open and she rises off her back.
“D—Don’t come in.” She hadn’t spoken of what happened the night before and didn’t want to mention it to her brothers. She felt it was better that way. She wasn’t lying, she simply just wasn’t telling them. And she didn’t need whoever would enter to see her leg either. “Tell me through the door.”
“We’re going to leave in a half hour to check on the new sample. Coming?” The voice belonged to Jacob. She swallows her pain and flinches as she slips out of the chair.
“Mm-hm,” she answers, trying not to walk on the leg and heads towards the bathroom. She was dying for a shower. “I’ll meet you guys downstairs in thirty minutes then.”
Miley and her brothers made money the best way she knew she could: growing and selling weed. Not far out of town, on her turf, she used her bright mind of chemistry and gardening to make different varieties of marijuana—ones no one has heard of or smoked—and she sold them to many, many people and to places she never thought she’d reach. The crew would make from $60 to even $6,000. No one can make weed like Miley can and she was one of the few best.
In a warehouse far from where no one would suspect, Miley grows her plants under light bulbs with a couple of frivolous gang members that are gardeners more than anything else.
Miley throws on a plain white top, a leather jacket, dark jeans, and black leather boots. Even though her attire seems plain, she still looked like her gorgeous self. She pulled back her blondish-brown hair in a hot mess of a ponytail and wore light make up.
“Want to carpool, Miles?” William asks as she descends the stairs with a helmet in her hand. William and the others were downstairs and waiting for her as they were told.
“Taking the bike, Wil,” she answers, winking as she passed him, walking towards the door and slipping on the helmet as she exited the house.
“Lauren!” Justin calls out, rocking the crying baby as he paced back and forth. He seriously wanted to neglect the damn doll, but he knew Miley’s grades depended on it. What he didn’t understand was why she wanted to graduate in the first place. Justin stood in just a black and white cap, in which he wore backwards, shirtless, a pair of jeans hung loosely under his waist (as usual), and is completely barefoot.
“Yes?” She asks from the kitchen, closing the fridge after taking out the gallon of milk.
“I don’t know what to do with this,” he replies, becoming impatient rather quickly.
“I used to have a baby sister who cried all the time as well. He’s probably either hungry, tired, or needs a diaper change.”
“I already fed him, burped him, and changed his diaper well after his nap which was like ten or fifteen minutes ago.”
She walks into the living room with the glass, dressed in a black asymmetrical, strapless dress and is barefoot is well. “You know, a pacifier?” She raises an eyebrow as she passes him, her feet pattering against the cold, white tiled flooring.
“Can you—?” He hands the doll towards her but she lurches backwards, holding her hands up, shaking her head. She was adamant upon taking the child into her own hands.
“Go to the store and get him one.” She then heads towards the staircase.
“Wait, Lauren, what do you mean you used to have a baby sister?”
She pauses for a moment, her back towards him. “She died with my parents.” And with that, she continued to walk upstairs.
“Listen, Miley,” the man on the left in a clean, cut suit begins as he sits across from her. “We’re here to help you.”
Her expression is almost expressionless, as if unimpressed and/or annoyed. These men worked for a bigger person, who heard of Miley’s business and wanted to partake in it. She didn’t want to share anything. The money was hers and her brothers—that’s final.
“We would provide security and more space,” the man on the right adds, folding his hands on his lap as he leans forward.
“And how much do you want?” William snaps, raising an eyebrow; annoyance written all over his face.
Miley and William exchange glances. That was way too much. Something vibrates in her pocket and she extracts her cellphone. It was Justin.
Meet me at the diner in fifteen. You need to take Drew earlier today.
She sighs under her breath. Dammit Bieber. There was only one diner in town and Miley knew exactly where it was. Why did he want to be seen public with her? Miley rises and shakes her head.
“Sorry, but I’m going to have to decline. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She places her phone back into her pocket and walks out the room, leaving William and the two men.
“You couldn’t just drop him off, Bieber?” She asks, sliding into the booth as she sat across from him. She could see that Drew was clean, not crying, and was sleeping. Miley was rather impressed, but wasn’t going to say it otherwise.
“Where? At your house? So I can get jumped?”
Miley rolls her eyes. “Shut up, you won’t. Stop being so dramatic.” Justin picks up a fry, dips in the ketchup, and takes a bite. She reaches for one from his plate, but he playfully smacks her hand. He laughs, chewing and looking at shocked Miley.
“Oh, Justin, can I please, please, please have a fry! I will die without it,” she begs sarcastically, holding her hands and shaking them.
“Since you asked that way…”
She breathes out a laugh and grabs a fry, but before she could bring it to her mouth, he takes it from her hand and eats it himself. Miley laughs again. “What are you doing?”
“Eating my fries, and you?”
She looks in his eyes for a moment, squinting lightly. Was Justin playing around with her? Where was this coming from? Her eyes trail down to his jaw and collarbone, to even his arms. He is looking so handsome today, not like he never did, and she just wanted to lean in and kiss—Miley NO.
She reaches for another fry, ignoring her thoughts. But, again, Justin takes it from her fingers. “Justin!” She says to him in a playful manner. “Let me have a fry!”
“Why?” He teases, holding the fry out to her and eats it before she could grab it. “I don’t have to.”
She rises off the seat, pushes him down the edge of the both he is sitting in with her hips, then sitting beside him, but keeps him pressed against the glass window with her butt and begins eating his fries. Justin laughs, trapped against the window and Miley’s body. “They’re mine now.”
She turns to him, their bodies pretty close to another. “Want a fry, well you can’t have it.” She slowly begins to loose her smile as she realizes how close they are to each other. Justin licks his lips as his eyes trail down to her lips.
When Miley feels the attraction, she moves back and coughs uncomfortably.
“Look, bring him tonight. I have plans right now and the boys won’t be home, so you can just bring Drew,” she says, rising on her feet. Justin nods, in some sort of trance of hers. He watches her walk out the diner and hop onto her motorcycle. He could not believe what he was feeling. He brushes it away, denying it and raising his hand for the check.
Justin left Drew at home with Lauren, telling the gang that he would be going to Miley’s because she was home alone and he could inspect the house now when Miley would be asleep without any interruptions since the other members were out for the night.
He pulls up at the house and catches himself checking his appearance in the rear-view mirror, making sure that he appeared well. Why am I doing that?
Justin exits the car, ascends the stairs, and rings the doorbell. Miley opens the door and appears in a black v-neck and jean short shorts. Her hair cascades her shoulders and frames her face. Her features change from a smile to confusing.
“He’s at my house, I thought I’d take this day for you.”
She squints lightly. “Hmm. And you drove all the way here to tell me that?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but can’t think of one. Instantly, he says the one that comes to mind. “I broke my cell phone,” he lied. “And I didn’t want to worry you.”
In the distance, a beeping is heard from a machine. “Oh, that’s my popcorn.” She turns her head in the direction of the kitchen.
“Watching a movie?” Justin assumes.
“Yeah,” she looks back at him, sheepish at the fact she was watching it alone because her best friend couldn’t come. “It’s St. Elmo’s Fire. 80’s movie, but I love 80’s movies.”
“Can I watch it, too? I don’t really watch movies,” he heard himself say.
Miley hesitated, skeptical at first, but then opens the door wider to allow him in. “Don’t pull anything stupid, Bieber.”
Miley closes the door after he steps in and walks barefoot towards the kitchen to pour the popcorn into a bowl. Upon returning to the living room, she views him sitting on the couch, waiting for her arrival. She places two coke bottles on the coffee table along with the popcorn and sits beside him, but far on the same couch.
As time progressed, Miley found herself sitting right beside him and Justin found his arm lying on the couch, near wrapping it around her shoulders. Their hands would touch for a moment when they both reached for the popcorn and their bodies would brush against each other’s accidentally.
Slowly and reluctantly, Miley fell asleep towards the end of the movie, her head lying on his shoulder. Justin didn’t push her away, but only welcomed her and placed his arm around her shoulder. The movie ended soon after, in which he did enjoy, but didn’t understand how could two lovers be just friends in the end. Again, it was just a movie.
He carried her in his arms and brought her to her room to lay her in her bed. He noticed how light she is and fragile looking when asleep. She was at peace and he never saw this Miley when awake.
Perfect timing. He needed to get into the basement because last time he couldn’t. On trying to unlock the basement door, it was unsuccessful; thereby he knew he needed pliers or an ax. And thus, he began searching through the dark house for anything strong to cut that Miley definitely would have. In an instant, he felt something hit him in the back of the head and saw a figure in the blurry whir stand behind him as he fell.
