Just Friends

  Is it wrong that I’m glad he’s not talking to Em? Probably. “We don’t talk much either anymore, Dustin and I.”

  “We’ve all fallen apart and I hate it. All because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself over the summer.” Em shakes her head ruefully, not even noticing how my hands start to shake. Seriously, she would bring that back up. It’s like she enjoys rubbing my face in her and Dustin’s hookups. Like she doesn’t even care how she’s making me feel. “It wasn’t even that good.”

  “Em.” I sound like I can barely hold it together, which is fairly accurate. This is the last thing I want to hear.

  “What?” Her wide eyes meet mine and she looks like innocence personified—which I happen to know is a bunch of crap. “It wasn’t! He’s not really…skilled, you know what I mean? Yes, he has nice hands and he’s a decent kisser, but he finishes too fast for my liking.”

  I can’t take it anymore. I stand and pitch the nachos into the garbage can before I take a huge drink of my Coke. I need the rush of caffeine and sugar to fortify me. Fire me up. Or maybe if I keep my lips on the straw long enough, the urge to verbally tear her apart will pass.

  “Hey, you threw away perfectly good nachos,” Em whines.

  My plans to remain quiet are shattered. “Grab them out of the garbage can and finish them off then. You should be used to that, right? Considering you’re nothing but trash?” I walk away before she can say anything, before I can see her reaction. I know it’ll either be fake hurt or a smug gleam in her eye because she knows she got to me.

  Em knows just how to get to me. She always has.

  “What the hell, Liv!” she shouts after me, but I don’t turn around.

  I keep walking. I can hear her come up behind me, but she doesn’t try to stop me. I don’t want to cause a scene yet I know she’d have no problem telling me how she felt. Em has never been one to shy away from a confrontation.

  “You think what you’re doing is so much better? It’s like you’re going after Ryan on purpose.” Oh, Em sounds furious. Like I care. “We’ve all warned you about him, Liv. He’s using you, you know. He’ll bang you, tell everyone about it, maybe even take a photo or twenty and send them to all his friends. Once that happens, trust me, you’re really good and screwed. And he won’t give a shit either. He’ll already have moved on to the next girl.”

  I whirl around to face her, my anger fueling me. Now I really don’t care if anyone’s paying us any attention. I almost want to put on a show. “Is that what he did to you?”

  Em lifts her chin and I see that flash of vulnerability shadow her gaze. “Like you care.”

  “Did he?”

  She drops her gaze and looks down, staring at her black low-top Converse. “It doesn’t matter what he did. You’re the one who’s chasing after him when you know the two of us hooked up. You look desperate.”

  I glare at her, all of my angry, rude responses evaporating. I take a deep breath and turn and walk away from Em, telling myself I’m doing what’s best. Fighting with her will get me nowhere. Making a scene will only end up embarrassing me.

  I’ve had enough embarrassment. Whoever heard her call me desperate will spread that around, I’m sure. I’ll become a total joke, all because I—what? Became interested in the boy she had a summer fling with? They weren’t involved, not really.

  It doesn’t matter. Somehow she’s the hurt one and I’m the bad guy. At least, that’s how she made me feel.

  And I hate it.

  “We need to tell them they played a good game,” Amanda says as we walk toward the locker rooms. Night has completely fallen and most everyone has left the field and stands, though lots of girls are also headed toward the locker rooms. I feel lame doing this, but Amanda insists this is proper “we’re just friends” behavior and it’ll make Ryan feel good.

  “What if he thinks I’m being clingy?” I discreetly glance over my shoulder to make sure Em isn’t in the crowd, and thankfully I don’t spot her.

  “He won’t. You’re going to tell him he was great on the field with sincerity in your voice and then we’re out,” Amanda says firmly. “You walk away, leaving him wanting more.”

  “You really think that works?” I send her a doubtful look. “Have you tried it?”

  “I read lots of Cosmo articles,” Amanda says with a firm nod. “Playing hard to get works. When you’re beyond available, they don’t care. If they have to chase after you, they want you even more.”

  “That sounds ridiculous,” I mutter, knocking into her gently with my shoulder.

  She laughs. “I know, but if Cosmo says it works, then it works.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

  “Do you think Selena just gave it up immediately to the Biebs? Do you think Gigi Hadid threw herself at Zayn? That would be a no on both counts.”

  “Now you’re busting out celebrity relationships? Please.” I laugh. “Biebs and Selena are over. And Gigi and Zayn probably are too.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She waves a dismissive hand. “What I’m saying is boys want the chase. They want to feel like they hunted and conquered.”

  “That is so sexist.”

  “It’s natural,” Amanda corrects as she starts to slow down. I follow her lead. “Watch and see.”

  A crowd has formed at the entrance of the locker room and the head coach is already standing guard, glowering at all of us adoring female fans who anxiously await the team to emerge. Amanda pushes her way to the front of the crowd and I follow after her, earning more than a few dirty looks.

  “Not you too, Winters,” Coach Halsey groans when he spots her.

  She just grins at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You quit the band and turn into a groupie instead?” He shakes his head, the disappointment on his face clear. “Unbelievable.”

  Coach Halsey is in his late thirties and took over the failing team two years ago. He’s slowly turned them around one season at a time, and this year everyone has high hopes. They might’ve lost this game, but they proved a challenge to the opposing team, with the final score ending up 21-17.

  The head coach is also pretty decent-looking for an old man, and more than a few of the girls at school have a massive crush on him. He’s supposedly happily married, but I’ve heard a few rumors of inappropriate behavior with students. Not that I can confirm or deny them, but yeah. They float around, especially during the off-season when Coach Halsey is bored and only teaching P.E.

  “I’m not a groupie. I wanted to tell my friends on the team they did a good job tonight,” Amanda says. “Plus, we’re here on behalf of the yearbook.”

  “Oh yeah? And who are these player friends of yours?” Coach Halsey crosses his bulky arms in front of his wide chest. His voice is teasing, but he also looks concerned, and it makes me wonder…

  How the hell does Amanda know the head football coach?

  “Um. Tuttle and Ryan.” Amanda’s cheeks go bright red and I feel sorry for her. I thought I got embarrassed easily. This girl goes down in flames any time she thinks about, alludes to or mentions Tuttle’s name. It’s the craziest thing, especially since she rarely talks about him.

  I’ve become comfortable enough to tell her all about my raging crush on Ryan, which is still raging despite my frustration with him. I told her about Dustin. I told her about my, ahem, encounters with Dustin, and Em’s confession, and how my best friends completely failed me. Amanda’s a very understanding person. But she’s also very private.

  Too private.

  “You would become ‘friends’ with those two.” Coach Halsey even adds the air quotes. His gaze skitters over to me and he narrows his eyes. “Who’s this?”

  “Olivia Hudson.” Amanda smiles. “She’s on the yearbook staff and she was taking photos of tonight’s game.”

  “They played really great tonight,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. But the look Coach Halsey shoots my way tells me he’s not buying it.

  “Uh huh,??
? he says skeptically. “You two stay out of trouble, okay?” He winks and then walks away before we can answer him.

  “How do you know the coach?”

  Amanda sighs and looks over at me. “Years ago, he was the football coach at our middle school and my older brother played for him.”

  Oh, right. How could I forget Jeep Winters? Well, his real name is George, but everyone for some strange reason calls him Jeep. I don’t get it, but whatever. “How much older is he than you?”

  “Five years. He graduated college this last December and he’s traveling all over Europe right now.” She sighs. “Lucky dick.”

  I burst out laughing because Amanda rarely uses words like dick. She curses, but not like Em and I do. “You don’t get along with your brother?”

  “He’s the greatest brother ever if you want me to be honest, which I also find super annoying. The guy can do no wrong,” she says irritably. “It’s enough to give a girl a complex.”

  “I’m sure.” I have no idea what she’s talking about. I consider myself an only child. Yeah, I have the younger brother and sister Dad has with Christine, but they don’t really count in my eyes. I have to live with them six weeks out of the year, big deal. “And why does everyone call him Jeep anyway?”

  “That’s my fault. I couldn’t say George when I was a baby, so for some weird reason I called him Jeep. Then it stuck. No one calls him George at home, though I think he ditched the nickname in college,” Amanda explains.

  “So you like football because of your brother.”

  “And my dad. And because I’ve been to pretty much every football game played by our school since my freshman year. It’s just a part of my life. I love football.” She shrugs, then her eyes light up and she nudges me in the side with her elbow. “They’re coming out.”

  Nerves flare in my stomach and I watch the locker room entrance. A few boys exit the doorway first, guys I don’t recognize but smile at anyway. Some of the girls shout their names and I watch in stunned disbelief as they run up to the boys like they’re going to ask for their autographs.

  “I don’t even know who they are,” Amanda leans in and whispers, making me smile.

  One by one the guys file out, and still no Ryan or Tuttle. The longer it takes, the more anxious I get. I sense Amanda is the same way. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, her hands wringing together, and she stares so intently at that open doorway I half expect the building might start to crumble from the force of her glare.

  I’m being completely dramatic, but come on. She’s acting kind of intense.

  Finally, finally they emerge from the depths of the locker room, Tuttle and Ryan walking side by side, their hair damp from taking a shower and both of them looking painfully gorgeous.

  I can admit Tuttle is very attractive, but he’s not the one I have my eyes on. No, it’s Ryan who I can’t stop staring at. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and chest in the most enticing way, and khaki shorts that look preppy yet somehow work on him. His white baseball cap is on backwards and my knees go weak at how cute he looks.

  He spots me almost immediately and his eyes light up as he approaches, Tuttle coming along with him.

  “Livvy.” Ryan smiles, his green eyes sparkling. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Glad to see the presidents of our fan club made it,” Tuttle adds, his gaze glued on Amanda.

  “Please,” Amanda says, sounding exasperated. “We just wanted to congratulate you both on a good game. Right, Liv?”

  Oh. I’m supposed to talk. I blink, trying my best to get Ryan’s perfect face and adorable smile out of my head. “Um, yeah. Right. You guys played great.”

  Ryan turns bashful, making a cute little face. “But we didn’t win.”

  “You came so close, though. You guys played an amazing game. I thought at one point you were going to tie it up,” Amanda says.

  “Our kicker isn’t the best,” Tuttle admits. “He’s getting better, though.”

  “You don’t have a second string you can trust?” Amanda asks.

  I watch her, amazed that she sounds so sincere. And that’s because she is sincere. She’s interested too. Tuttle looks like he’s about to sport wood, he’s so thrilled she’s talking football.

  “You don’t watch much football, do you?” Ryan says, his voice low. Like he’s speaking only to me.

  I shrug, a little embarrassed. “I don’t really understand it like Amanda does. I’m just here to take photos.” I point at the camera still around my neck.

  “I can teach you whatever you want to know,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving mine.

  Mmm, I’ve missed his flirtatious tone, his innuendo-laced words. “I’m sure you could,” I tease.

  “Well, we just wanted to tell you both you played a good game,” Amanda says loudly, her hand going to my wrist and giving me a gentle tug. I step back with her, hating that she’s pulling me away from Ryan. I know I’m supposed to let him chase me, but I’ve never liked playing games.

  Not that I’ve played many games like this with boys. I have no idea what I’m doing. Not too sure if Amanda really knows either.

  “You two should come to my house,” Tuttle offers in that almost maddening unemotional tone he likes to use. Like nothing ever bothers the guy.

  “What for?” Amanda asks.

  Tuttle tilts his head, a mysterious smile curving his lips. “I’m having a little after game party and thought you’d like to go.”

  I’m about to say yes when Amanda cuts me off with a look. “I don’t know, Tuttle. We’re kind of tired,” she tells him.

  He raises a brow. “Too tired to party? Come on, Mandy. I know you like to party.”

  “Yeah, come over,” Ryan adds. “It’s only a few guys from the team and some girls. Nothing big.”

  “Very exclusive,” Tuttle adds, like that’s going to sway us.

  He’s right. He’s totally swaying me. But is it working on Amanda?

  I turn to her and send the most pleading look I can muster. We must go to this. We must.

  “Come on,” I whisper to her, but it’s like she’s not even listening to me. Her gaze goes to Tuttle, her expression ultra-serious.

  “We’ll leave you ladies alone so you can chat,” Tuttle says as he leads Ryan away.

  “We shouldn’t,” she says the moment they’re out of earshot. “The small parties are even worse than the big ones.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re like…” She looks around before lowering her voice. “Sex parties.”

  I giggle. “Please. We couldn’t get so lucky.”

  “Are you telling me if Ryan wanted to do it, you’d have sex with him tonight?” Amanda asks, her brows raised.

  Huh. When she puts it like that… “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug.

  “Right. Because you’re not ready to take it that far yet.”

  “So? I think you’re overreacting. Even if they are having a sex party tonight, we just won’t have sex.” I feel like I just solved the world’s problems.

  “It’s not that easy. They can be very…persuasive.” She’s scowling. It’s almost like she’s talking from personal experience.

  “Then we never leave each other’s side. We’ll protect each other.” I smile brightly. “What do you think?”

  She studies me, her eyes narrowed. “You promise you won’t leave me?”

  “Promise,” I say with all the confidence I can muster.

  “Fine.” She sighs, sounding completely put out. “We’ll go to the party. But we’re leaving by midnight.”

  “Seriously, Mom? Give me a break.”

  Amanda laughs. “I don’t want to stay too late. I need my beauty sleep.”

  “Let me text my mom and tell her I’m spending the night at your house.” I whip out my phone and start texting her.

  “I thought I was spending the night at your house.”

  I grin at her. “See, that’s the thi
ng. Your mom will think you’re at my house and mine will think I’m at yours. And we’ll be at Tuttle’s.”

  Amanda frowns. “I just said I wanted to leave by midnight.”

  “This way we can just crash there—it’s perfect!”

  “It’s perfectly crazy,” she mutters under her breath as the boys approach us once more.

  “You girls in?” Ryan asks.

  I nod, unable to contain the smile that spreads across my face. “We are so in.”

  The arrogant smirk Ryan sends my way promises tonight is definitely going to be interesting.

  “This is such a bad idea,” Amanda says as she slowly drives down Tuttle’s long gravel driveway.

  Even though the moon above is nothing more than a sliver, its light still casts a silvery glow upon the acres of land the Tuttle family owns. There are no cars parked along the driveway or in the fields tonight. As we get closer to the house, I see there are only a few cars parked in the driveway directly in front of the garage. No one is really here.

  And I’m so freaking excited I’m practically bouncing in my seat.

  “It’s a great idea,” I reassure her with all the confidence I’m feeling. “You might get alone time with Tuttle.”

  She sends me a look. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “You don’t want to be alone with him?”

  “No.” She takes a deep breath, then lets it out shakily. “He terrifies me.”

  “Why?” Oh, there is so much more going on here than she’s telling me.

  “I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it.” She presses her lips together and pulls to the farthest left side of the driveway, out of the way of the other cars. Once she puts the car in park, she shuts off the engine and sits there, the engine ticking as it cools, the sounds of chirping crickets coming from the fields. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Lots of don’ts in those two sentences,” I tease her. No way am I letting her back out now. We’ve made it this far. Now we’re going all in. “We can do this and we will. Let’s go.”

  I reach for the door handle, but Amanda doesn’t even move. Unfazed, I climb out of the car and run my fingers through my hair as I go round the front and toward Amanda’s door. I open it, leaning my arm on the top edge of the door as I stare at her and she stares back. “Come on.”