Just Friends
Em touches my cheek, her hand sliding down to cup the side of my neck. “You’re so funny, Livvy. Don’t you see? We’ve changed the most.” When I remain quiet, she continues, “You and Dustin together. I don’t know what to think about that.”
“There’s nothing to think about,” I say.
She stares, silent, her fingers curling into my neck, her nails scraping my skin. I wince and pull away from her. “Is it that easy to dismiss him?”
“He’s my friend,” I say, trying to reassure her. “Just like you’re my friend.”
“So you put me equal with Dustin.” Em laughs, the sound soft. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I put you above Dustin.” The words fall from my lips so easily, but they’re a lie. Dustin has always come first. I’ve known him longer and we have a deeper history. Not having him around this weekend makes me want him around, despite my worry over what’s happened between us.
How much we’ve changed.
I guess Em is right.
“Wow, I can’t believe I rate so high.” She pulls me into her arms and holds me close, shifting so her head is nuzzled between my neck and my shoulder, her mouth moving against my skin. “I love you, Livvy. So much. Don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t,” I tell her as I kiss the top of her head.
“Don’t ever change,” she murmurs.
That’s a promise I can’t make, no matter how much I want to.
Dustin drives me to school on our first day back because it’s a tradition—we always go to school together on the first day. Though Em wasn’t ready yet so she didn’t go with us. There was no way I would be late on our first day of senior year. Em may not give a shit, but I do.
“Looking good,” Dustin says as I walk toward his Jeep Wrangler, my backpack slung over my shoulder. By day’s end it’ll be full of books and my back will be aching.
I do a twirl, showing off my outfit even though I shouldn’t. I’m wearing denim shorts and a cute flow-y cream-and-lace top. Very Coachella, which is still a look to strive for. “You like?” I ask him.
His gaze is warm, appreciative as he leans out his car window. “I freaking love.”
Dustin’s use of the word love takes all the steam out of me and my smile fades. I’m nervous as I walk around his car and get in on the passenger side, slamming the door behind me and letting my backpack drop to the floorboard.
“Why the long face?” he asks as he pulls out onto the road.
“It was hard getting up this morning so early.” I stare out the window, taking in my neighborhood, each house as familiar to me as breathing. We go past Em’s place and her car is still parked in the front…
And Ryan’s is parked behind it.
I face forward, my mind awhirl. So he’s taking her to school? That’s serious. That doesn’t say “just friends”. Though Dustin is taking me to school too, so maybe that doesn’t say just friends either. Of course, we’ve been going to school together on the first day—on pretty much every day—since I can remember, so maybe I’m just jumping to conclusions.
“Olivia.” Only Dustin says my full name, beyond teachers and my parents. “Did you hear me?”
Shaking my head, I focus on him, smiling brightly. “Sorry. I was thinking. What did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted to get together after school and come to my house.” He pauses, his gaze fixed on the road. “My parents won’t be there.”
He wants to hook up. I know what he’s asking. I can tell by the way he won’t look at me, the tone of his voice. “Um, I don’t know. I might hang out with Em…”
“And Ryan?” His tone is vicious.
Angry.
“Well, probably, if he doesn’t have football practice. He’s Em’s boyfriend, after all,” I say, though I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, from what they both tell me. “You should hang out with us. I think Em wanted to go swimming. It’s going to be so hot today.” It already was.
“She’s having you come over there to be her front, you know. All she really wants is to fuck Ryan,” Dustin says.
“Stop talking about them like that,” I tell him, my voice low. It’s so rude, so…
“What do you want me to say? That they have a special relationship?” He sneers. “Give me a break.”
“The way you talk about Ryan, it’s like you’re jealous.”
“I’ve had to deal with his shit all summer. Let’s just say I can see right through him,” he mutters.
“And what do you see?”
“A prick who uses girls and thinks he’s the shit.”
I lean back heavily against my seat, staring out the window once more. Dustin’s right. Ryan is a prick who uses girls and thinks he’s the shit.
“So you won’t come over.”
A weary sigh escapes me. Is it always going to be like this? Me stuck between the two of them and constantly having to choose? “She invited me last night.”
“So she comes first.”
“Well, you can come over too,” I start but he doesn’t let me finish.
“I don’t want to go over to Em’s house and hang out with her and that asshole,” he mutters. “I just want to hang out with you.”
“I don’t get it. Why do you hate him so much?”
“Why do you always want to talk about him?”
I lean back in my seat, shocked by the anger in his tone. “I don’t always want to talk about him. But I do want to go over to Em’s after school. It’s always fun to gossip about everything,” I say, my voice small.
“So you’re choosing Em over me.” He stares straight ahead, never taking his gaze off the road.
“Why does it always have to be a choice? Can’t I have you both in my life? Why do things have to change?” I’m not just talking about Em or Ryan. I’m talking about the changes between me and Dustin too.
He sends me a look. “We grow up, we change. It’s a part of life.”
“Being a grown up means being able to talk rationally and not get jealous over stupid stuff,” I mutter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“Are you calling me jealous?” he asks incredulously.
“Well, are you?”
Dustin brakes hard and the car swerves wildly to the right as he jerks the steering wheel, cutting off the car behind us. It races by us as he stops on the side of the road, the horn blaring, the driver giving us the finger and yelling obscenities, but I don’t even think Dustin notices.
He’s too busy staring at me, his expression full of hurt and anger and so much more that I can’t even begin to describe. “You’re right. I’m jealous. He’s a total dick, Livvy. He moved in on Em so fast I got whiplash. And I see the way he looks at you.” He hesitates before he adds softly, “And how you look at him.”
The pain in his voice, on his face…it makes me feel bad. But I’m also immediately on the defensive. “I don’t look at Ryan in any special way.”
Do I?
“Do you like him?”
“No, not like that.” I shake my head. “Never like—”
He cuts me off by reaching out to grab my hand, and his fingers curl around mine. They’re warm, his touch comforting. Dustin is like a cozy blanket I want to wrap myself in when I’m feeling down.
And that’s nice. I appreciate cozy. Sometimes, I really need cozy.
I frown, the threat of tears pricking the corners of my eyes. No way do I want to cry today. I can’t.
“Don’t fall under his spell like Em did,” he says, his deep voice soft. He squeezes my hand and I meet his gaze. “He’ll only hurt you.”
My lips part, but I can’t speak.
“He’s hurting Em right now. Can’t you see? He doesn’t care about her. And he won’t care about you either. Not like I do, Livvy.” He brings our linked hands to his mouth and he kisses my knuckles.
“You’re talking to me like I’m an idiot,” I point out. “I would never make a move on Ryan. Em is my best friend.”
“I thoug
ht I was your best friend.”
Here we go again. I shake my head, feeling like a selfish bitch, but I refuse to have this conversation. Pulling my hand away from his, I look away, not wanting to face him.
“Please, Dustin. Don’t do this. Not today. It’s the first day of school,” I plead.
His frustration and anger suddenly overwhelms the tiny space. “If not today then when, huh? We’ve been dancing around this for over a year. We’ve been making out for months, hooking up. I want more. I want…” He clamps his lips shut, his gaze dark as he looks away.
I finally dare to look at him, noting the steely determination of his jaw, his brown eyes turbulent, his hair ruffled by the breeze. He’s good-looking—gorgeous, really—and he’s my Dustin. But I don’t want to get together with him like this, when he’s so angry. Fighting over Ryan, worried over Em, squabbling over who my real best friend is. This is stupid, and Dustin and I aren’t stupid.
Yet we’re acting like two jealous idiots who can’t figure our shit out.
“What do you want?” I ask softly, selfish enough that I want to hear his answer.
“You,” he says, his voice breaking just the slightest bit. Just enough that I can tell. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I wanted you to be my first, but…” His voice drifts and he shakes his head firmly. “I wanted us to be each other’s first. I want us to finish our senior year together, and maybe even figure out a college to go to. Together.”
My heart is cracking wide open yet panic swamps me too. This is exactly what I want, so why am I not answering him? It’s just…at this moment, it doesn’t feel right. This, how we’re coming about it, doesn’t feel natural.
It somehow feels…
Wrong.
He plots and plans. It’s what he does. And it’s like he has our entire lives plotted out for us. That’s scary. Maybe I don’t want this after all. Nothing against him, but maybe I want a different boy. Maybe I want a lot of different boys. I don’t know.
What I do know is that—oh God—I’m afraid to tie myself to Dustin. The sudden realization smacks me in the face. He acts like he wants forever and that terrifies me. We’re too young. Things can change.
Things always change.
“I-I don’t know,” I stutter, closing my eyes as the guilt rushes over me. What am I doing?
Why am I messing this up?
He puts the Jeep into drive and pulls away from the curb, saying nothing, and I remain quiet too. Until the silence becomes unbearable and I feel like I’m about to burst out of my skin when we pull into the senior parking lot.
“Don’t hate me,” I whisper once he parks the car and turns off the engine.
Dustin doesn’t look at me. It’s like he can’t. “I could never hate you, Livvy.” He pulls the keys out of the ignition and throws open the driver’s side door. “Hope you have a good day.”
I climb out of the car, the tears forming in my eyes, my chest so tight I can feel that ache everywhere. “Bye, Dustin.” I come way too close to sobbing. Why do those two words feel so final?
The first day of school hasn’t even started yet and I’m already trying not to cry.
Em bursts into the girls’ bathroom, the door slamming behind her and cutting off all that frantic energy and sound coming from the hallway just outside. The first bell is going to ring any minute and I texted her that I was hiding out in the bathroom, that I needed to talk to her.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, sounding winded.
I spill my guts about Dustin, how jealous he acted, how much he hates Ryan and how badly he wants to be with me. My thoughts are a confused, jumbled mess and I swear I’m going to cry, but I don’t want to ruin my makeup. I worked on my eyes for twenty minutes this morning. I wasn’t about to screw up a good cat eye and decent contouring.
“He’ll get over it,” she reassures me, drawing me in for a hug, clutching me close before she releases me. She looks amazing wearing a little blue-and-red plaid pleated skirt and a white T-shirt that clings to her chest, the fabric so thin I can see the bra underneath is black. She wears the schoolgirl sexpot look well. “I know he will. He gets over everything and moves on. He always does.”
“Maybe he won’t,” I practically wail, sniffing loudly. Damn it, I cannot cry.
Em goes into a bathroom stall and pulls off a wad of toilet paper, handing it to me. I blow my nose, dab at my eyes and go to the mirror, checking on my makeup. Still looking good.
“He will. He did with me. He forgot all about me,” she says, her voice small.
My eyes go wide and I turn to her, tilting my head to the side. It’s like my heart is in my throat at her words, the meaning behind them. “What did you just say?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you this.” She crosses her arms in front of her, in full on defensive mode, her expression contrite. “But when you were gone this summer, Dustin and I…we messed around a couple of times.”
“What?” My ears are ringing. My head is spinning. It’s like I can hear the words she’s saying, but I don’t understand them. They can’t be true. What she’s saying—I don’t know why she’s lying to me.
“It was no big deal at the time, or so I thought. We were drunk and feeling stupid and horny, I guess, and he just…kissed me. Next thing I know we’re wrapped around each other and our hands are everywhere. I finally had to shove him off of me.”
“You’re lying,” I accuse. She has to be. I can’t compute this.
I don’t want to compute this.
“I’m not, I swear! It happened a couple of times over the summer, while you were gone. Sometimes it got—out of hand, and he didn’t want to stop. I told him we shouldn’t, but he kept pushing and I gave in. He even tried to turn it into a serious thing, but I told him no way. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you.” She grabs my hands and I jerk away from her, backing up, needing the distance. “It’s been so hard to keep this from you, Livvy. That’s why I was so upset when I found out you were hooking up with him, too! It’s like Dustin was bouncing from you to me and back to you again.”
I can’t believe her. I don’t want to believe her. Dustin would never do that to me. No way, no how. I just…
I can’t wrap my head around it. And she wouldn’t do that to me either. My two best friends messing around after he messed around with me?
No, no, no, no.
“He told me not to tell you. Made me swear on it, like he forced me to agree to keep this secret. It’s been so hard, that’s why I didn’t talk to you much when you were gone. I felt so terrible. I never want to hurt you. Ever.” She hesitates. Winces a little. Why does it feel like such an act? “You’re my best friend, Livvy.”
Right. Sure. She’s carving my heart into tiny little pieces with her words, yet she doesn’t want to hurt me. I wish I could hate her. I think I’m in shock.
“So you two hooked up.” My voice is flat. My emotions, my heart, my everything is…flat. Unfeeling. A mess. I’m a riotous mess inside and I’m trying my best to keep my cool.
“It was nothing.” She waves a hand.
“You and Dustin had—sex.” I choke the last word out. It hurts, saying it. So stupid, considering I keep pushing Dustin away, but he gave me that whole “firsts” speech not even an hour ago and now Em is telling me they were together.
Meaning I came second. I might’ve asked for it by leaving, but he couldn’t even wait for me.
“One time. Just…it was only once. To get it over with, you know? Now we’re not virgins anymore.” Em smiles, but it’s fake. I can tell. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which look frantic. Nervous. “But now I’ve told you everything and we can move on, right? Put this all behind us.” Her lips quiver at the corners, like she’s going to what? Cry? Give me a break. “Forget boys. Forget Dustin. It’s just the two of us, together. I matter more than he does. You told me that. You promised.”
“That’s before I found out you were two were together,” I say, my voice raspy, my stomach roiling. I
feel like I could throw up. Just puke up my breakfast along with all the horrible images her words conjure up.
Dustin and her. Together. Dustin kissing Em. Dustin touching Em. Dustin naked with Em and actually having sex with her. Did he do it to her in her bed, like when we were together last?
I close my eyes against the thought and blindly run into a bathroom stall, retching into the toilet.
“Livvy!” Em pushes the door open and I can feel her behind me, her hands going to my hips, then tugging on my hair. I jerk away from her hold, afraid she’ll try and help me. I don’t want her help. “Oh my God, are you all right?”
“Get out,” I gasp, running my hand over my mouth, the taste almost unbearable. I need gum. I need to brush my teeth. I need my mom.
The bell rings, the low, familiar tone loud in the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. Don’t make to leave.
But I definitely want Em to leave. I’m desperate to get away from her.
“We have to go to class,” Em says, her voice quiet.
“Just go,” I sob, my stomach pitching and rolling again, and I lean over the toilet, bracing my hands on the edge of the seat as I purge my guts. My stomach cramps and my head swims. My eyes are filled with tears and I don’t know if it’s because I threw up or because I’m sad.
Devastated.
“I can’t leave you here,” she says, and I whirl on her, knowing I look like hell, that my makeup, everything is shot to shit, but I don’t care. Let her look, let her judge.
“I don’t want you here. Leave. Go!”
She flinches, as if every word I hurled at her was a physical blow, and she backs out of the stall, pushing the door open with her butt. “You’re mad. I get it. We’ll talk later.”
“No. You don’t get it. I never want to talk to you again,” I whisper, shaking my head.
“Come on, Livvy. You’re making such a big deal about this,” she whines, still just inside the stall, the metal door at her back.
“You fucked Dustin!” I scream at her, the tears streaming down my face as my stomach rumbles. I rest my hand over it, wishing it would stop. I don’t want to throw up anymore. I want to go to the office and go home. Mom will flip since it’s the first day, but I don’t care. If you vomit at school, they send you home. It’s a guaranteed pass, like a fever.