A/N: I have no idea where this came from. But it is dedicated to Tiff for encouraging me to write it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet

Wishing to be the friction in your jeans

Isn't it messed up, how I'm just dying to be him?

You're ruining me. You're tearing me to pieces and what's sad about it is that you have no idea. You weren't supposed to happen; I never even saw it coming. I came into this town to get away from the problems and now you're causing more of them by your very presence.

It's sickening.

But, of course, I have to be the silent one and keep quiet for everyone's sake. He'd kill me if he knew I was pining for the love of his life. He's good for you, and you love him and I know that, yet I still can't seem to erase the memory of that day from my mind.

"Ryan!" she screamed, banging on the door to the pool house. He looked up in confusion and concern from his textbook, moving to open the door.

"Summer, what-?" She brushed past him into the pool house and turned around, seething.

"I am going to kill Cohen. And it's going to be very very slow, and very torturous, and I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

He blinked at her for a moment.

"Don't play dumb, I know that he lied to me about last night. He was out with Alex, right?"

"No, he was helping Alex clean up the club…" he said slowly, not fully comprehending where this was going.

"He knows I don't like her."

"She and Marissa broke up not even two days ago; I highly doubt anything would have happened even if he wanted it to."

"That is so not the point, Chino." He smirked.

"The point is that he should have told you." She nodded.


"So you're complaining to me because…why?" She sighed and sat down on his bed.

"Because Marissa gets all fidgety when I mention Alex," she said quietly, "And you were my next best option because Seth is sleeping." He nodded slowly and sat down next to her.

"So you ran out in the rain tonight to complain to me."

"Pretty much," she laughed softly before looking up at him.

They kept eye contact for a moment before he got off the bed and grabbed a shirt, tossing it at her.

"Put this on, you must be freezing." She accepted it gratefully and muttered a quiet 'thanks' while she slipped the shirt over her head. It could've been a dress.

She stood up and turned towards him, playing with the hem of the t-shirt. He had to bite back a laugh at how ridiculous she looked.

"Shut up," she warned playfully. He smiled and shook his head before moving over to her.

"No, no, you look good in my clothes. Really, you should keep it, make a statement," he teased. She started hitting him in the chest and he grabbed her wrists, laughing.

When she looked up at him her breath hitched in her throat. They were only inches apart, and it wouldn't take much to close that gap.

"Ryan," she whispered, and let her gaze flicker to his lips before going back up to his eyes.

He slowly pushed some of her hair out of her face, running his hand through it before letting his palm come to rest on her cheek. She got chills from the sensation and closed her eyes, trying to fight off the feeling.

"What abou-" He cut her off then, placing a finger over her lips.

"He's sleeping," he whispered, closing the gap and pressing his lips to hers.

She reciprocated greedily, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her.

I cringe at the thought of how you made me feel. The sensations that swept through me, the insatiable craving I hold for you now. It's disgusting, in a way, that every time it rains I lay in bed and think about that night, hoping that a similar occurrence will happen some time in the future.

I know it won't, and so do you, but that doesn't stop me from hoping.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," she whispered pleadingly, stepping back out into the rain. They had been making out for the past half hour, stopping only when her cell phone rang.

"I can keep quiet well enough," he responded, and they both smiled at the truth in the statement. She began to walk back towards the house, pausing for a moment and turning back around.

"One for the road?" she asked hopefully, and it was only seconds later that he had gone and swept her into his arms, kissing her fiercely.

"Bye Ryan," she said breathlessly, pulling away from him and running back into the house, leaving only moments later to go meet Marissa.

I shouldn't be remembering this now, but sitting here and watching you laugh with him brings back the memory. Marissa's fingers are intertwined with mine, and I feel terrible that I'm with her on false pretenses. We've been back together for a week, and every night when I'm kissing her it's you that I think about.

The way your tongue moves perfectly in tandem with mine, urging me to explore every crevice of your mouth, memorize every tantalizing curve. The way your hands run through my hair, playing with the longer strands that reside at the base of my neck. The way you make me lose all rational thought within only a few seconds.

I remember all of this with such longing, such thirst for your taste that I know I shouldn't even have a clue of. My best friend is your boyfriend, and he's loved you for years.

I betrayed him that night, and so did you. There are fleeting moments when our eyes connect, blue on brown, and you look remorseful. I know it's because of me, and because I kissed you.

Because that's the thing.

I kissed you.

And that makes the whole thing essentially my fault.


I snap out of my reverie at the sound of your voice.

"Walk me to class? I need to talk to you about something."

Your voice is pleading, in a subtle way, a way that only I know how to recognize. I nod, kissing Marissa quickly on the forehead and giving a halfhearted wave to Seth before walking away from the table with you.

"This is killing me," you say once we are far enough away from our significant others to talk.

"Me too," I agree.

"I love Seth," you whisper. I nod. I know this; there is no need to tell me. "But that night with you seems to invade my thoughts more than he does lately."

I'm forced to do a double take. Your voice was so quiet at that last part I'm sure I heard you wrong.

"So…" I say, trying to fill the awkward silence that has enveloped us both.

"So how do you feel?" you ask, frustrated.

"He's your boyfriend."

"I noticed," you snap, and I fight back a smirk at the fire in your response.

"He's my best friend." You sigh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

"He would understand," you argue. I laugh bitterly at this.

"Like he did with Zach?"

I've hit a sore spot. I know this because you're suddenly quiet, playing with your hands.

"Don't do that," you whisper. I shake my head.

"He won't understand, Summer." You nod.

"So that night…"

"…means nothing." You nod again, slowly this time.

"Thanks for the clarification," you say, and I can hear the tears in your voice. You aren't as good at the indifferent façade as you'd like to be.

"Any time," is my simple response, and I fall back as you rush off to class.

I shove my hands in my pockets and wander off to my own class, idly wondering what would have happened if I had given into you.


"So anyway, my mom…" I drown her out. It's not hard. She talks too much anyhow. You never talk this much, and when you do I can at least take some sort of interest in what you're saying. She just rants, and to be frank I'm getting sick of it. I wonder what sort of noises she'd make if she had a gag in her mouth.

This is the point you've pushed me to.

I glance over at you and inwardly grimace. You're kissing him, giggling at whatever it is that he's whispering in your ear. The lyrics from some song I heard the other day drift through my head.

'Don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet, wishing to be the friction in your jeans. Isn't it messed up, how I'm just dying to be him?'

I actually laugh at how pathetic this is becoming. He looks at me strangely and so does she, but you recognize the look of self-deprecation in my eyes and don't react at all.

I was expecting this.


It's raining.

I'm remembering that night.

There's a clear picture in my head of how your clothes clung to your body, the thin material of your shirt plastered against your chest. Your mascara was running, whether from the rain or from the tears I knew you'd been crying I'll never know. I don't really care. You looked wild, and you were beautiful.

I groan softly when I remember how you felt under my hands. It wasn't my fault that we ended up on the bed; you did that all by yourself.

So what if I didn't argue?

The feeling of you underneath me drove me insane. I wanted to rip your clothes off and take you right there, and I would have if it hadn't been for the nagging thought in the back of my mind that you were – are – his.

That and your cell phone ringing.

I knew who it was before you even said anything. I could hear her crying through the phone and for once I didn't care. I just wanted you to hang up so that we could resume our previous activities.

But before you had even ended the call you were heading for the door, and I sighed audibly as I followed you.

That last kiss in the rain was the final straw for me. You knew it, too. My hands found their way under your skirt, teasing you mercilessly. You moaned into my mouth and I had to fight the urge to drag you back into the pool house and make love to you until it hurt.

After you left I stood there for a while, staring at the air where you had been standing, remembering the feeling of your lips on mine.

That was when I knew you weren't just any other girl.

You were the one that would end me, whether you knew it or not.

I snap out of my thoughts when the phone rings. I grab it without hesitation, answering with a wary hello.

"He broke up with me."

My heart stops momentarily and I'm almost at a loss for words. Then I realize you're on the verge of tears.

"Why?" I manage to choke out. You sigh and take a deep breath before you answer.

"I told him," you whisper, and I bite my lip to keep from groaning.

"Come over."

"He's there."

"He leaves for work in ten minutes," I argue. There's a pause on the line and I know you're thinking about it.

"Ok." And then there's just a dial tone to keep me company. I place the phone back in its cradle, running my hands through my hair shakily.


We're kissing now. This time it's your fault, I opened the door and you threw yourself into my arms. I didn't argue, only pulled you further into the pool house after managing to shut the door.

"He didn't understand," you whisper between kisses, desperately trying to pull my shirt over my head. I take your hands and step back, looking into your eyes.

"Did you want him to?" You hesitate. "Summer," I say, more firmly, "Did you want him to?"

You nod after a moment.

"That way you could've forgotten about me." It's not a question. I already know the answer. You swallow, nodding slowly.

"Go get him." Your eyes shoot up and cross mine, questioning and scared.

"What?" you breathe. I sigh and let go of your hands.

"Go get him. You love him, he loves you, make him understand." I want to kill my logical side right about now. But we couldn't have worked this out even if we wanted to. It's too complicated.

"Ryan," you breathe, choking back a sob.

"This isn't about me. Go before I change my mind." My voice is softer now and you throw your arms around my neck, hugging me forcibly.

"I'm sorry," you whisper before kissing me on the cheek and running back out into the rain.

"Me too," I whisper to the dead air around me. "Me too."


I'm leaving this as a one-shot, but I would love to hear your opinions! Reviews are my lifeline. That and coffee, but I doubt any of you would be willing to give me coffee, so reviews are just as good. Thanks for reading!

(PS) The lyrics are from "Sugar, We're Goin' Down" by Fall Out Boy.