"Tris!" My best friend, Christina, squeals through the phone. I cringe, wincing as I jerk my head away from the loud sound. "Did you hear?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes, even though she can't see me. This is how our relationship works; She gives me the latest gossip while I try to care. "No, I probably didn't."

I mentally picture her jumping up and down with excitement. For some reason, she feeds off of the lives of others. "Four Eaton got kicked off the movie he was filming!"

I groan. Four Eaton is the acting industries Justin Bieber. He started out as a pre-teen heartthrob but grew into a class-A douche. I hate him more than anything else in this world. He is a despicable person. "That's great… I guess?" I say. She knows I loathe him, I don't know why she thinks I care.

"Tris," she says giddily, "His manager is making him take a break from Hollywood. He's coming here- to Chicago!"

"Wonderful." I whisper dryly.

"Oh come on," she says. If she was here in person, there is no doubt that she would be shoving my arm. "You used to like him. You used to be in love with him!"

She's right. When I was thirteen, my room was filled with posters with his face on it and I worshiped the holy ground he walked on. But I'm a senior in high school now and narcissistic, self absorbed, Hollywood scum isn't really on the top of my obsessions list. "Yeah, well, I don't anymore. He's a jerk."

I sense her smirk, "yeah, well, you better get over it, because he's coming to our school Monday."

I purse my lips, hanging up the phone and throwing it on my bed.

Xxx

My parents are big on donating to charity, so we don't have much income coming into the Prior household. They make enough to support my brother, Caleb, and I. But I still have to work if I want any money to myself.

It's Saturday night and the diner I'm a waitress is at is completely dead. Well, except for the creepy old man who is sitting at the bar drinking a cup of black coffee. Okay, he's not that creepy- or that old. But when you're only a five foot one seventeen year old girl by herself at ten o' clock at night, every man is creepy.

My boss, Tori, told me to close up once he left. It's been two hours since. "Sir," I say from behind the counter. His dark eyes meet mine. "We're about to close."

He nods; taking another sip of is drink, acting as if I didn't just hint for him to get out. "You say 'we're' as if someone else is here with you." He speaks.

I swallow, yeah… definitely creepy. "Excuse me," I deadpan. "I'm about to close. Please leave."

He clenches his jaw, standing. "Have a good night." He says, meeting my eyes again. They are a dark blue, a familiar blue.

I smile tightly as he opens the door and the little bell chimes. When it closes, I lock it quickly. I hate when I'm the last one here. It's so eerie.

I take his cup off the counter and rinse it in the sink. This morning's conversation with Christina stuck in my head. Monday is going to be horrible. The entire teenage girl population is obsessed with Four, me being the exception. And I get it. He's so attractive. Too bad he's a horrible person. For example, last year, he was arrested for assault and he wasn't even provoked. My theory is that he grew up feeling entitled to do whatever he wanted. I almost feel bad for the kid.

Almost. I would if he hadn't made a comment about how men are better than women. Hollywood might make you a privileged piece of shit, but it doesn't make you a sexist piece of shit. And I am that obnoxious feminist girl at our school, that's what my friend, Uriah, said at least.

I shut off the lights and walk out of the diner and to my car. Well, I run to my car. But who can blame me? This side of town isn't the best. I start my engine, driving home with chaotic thoughts.

Tell me what you guys think!

-Riley