More than Friends - Monica Murphy

  I lose approximately two hundred brain cells in the ninety seconds he thoroughly kisses me, and when he finally pulls away from my lips, I open my eyes and stare at him as if in a daze. His lips are damp and his hair is a mess—I think I might’ve done that, I have no clue—and his eyes are extra bright as he watches me. He even nods, like he’s pleased with his kissing results, and his smile is soft as he slowly releases his hold on me.

  “See you tomorrow, Mandy.”

  I practically collapse against the passenger door. “Okay,” I squeak, blindly reaching for the handle so I can open the door. I stumble out of the SUV and slam the door, turning to smile and wave at him as he starts to pull away.

  Maybe we can make this work. Maybe we can be a real couple. Amanda and Jordan.

  Jordan and Amanda.

  Hmm, Amanda Tuttle does have a nice ring to it…

  I frown. Okay, now I’m getting just a little out of control.

  “Oh, God. You don’t know anything, do you?” Livvy says as she slips into my car, slamming the door so hard I wince. She turns in her seat so she’s facing me fully. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re so oblivious.”

  “I’m oblivious to what exactly?” I can admit I’m in a Tuttle-induced haze. I sat through dinner last night staring off into space, which infuriated my father for some reason. Probably because I wasn’t talking much, and I’m usually the one they beg to shut up. When the family dinner ordeal was finally over, I locked myself away in my room and ransacked my closet, trying to find something cute to wear to school tomorrow. Something to make a certain boy drool…

  But then I remembered it was Homecoming Week, which meant there were themed days where we dressed up. I couldn’t remember what Monday’s theme was and I couldn’t be bothered to look it up or ask anyone, so I chose a pair of my favorite jeans that make my butt look pretty good and a navy blue T-shirt—our school colors are blue and white—with a low V-neck. Maybe Tuttle would stare at my chest when he saw me wearing it.

  I mean Jordan. Jordan might stare at my chest. And that would be awesome.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” Livvy says, her voice breaking through my thoughts and reminding me something awful is about to go down. I meet her gaze, noting the sympathetic look she’s sending me. And I also notice her eyes are rimmed with red and her cheeks are blotchy. Like she’s been crying.

  Uh oh.

  “What’s going on?” I ask when she still hasn’t said anything. I don’t like how she’s looking at me. Or the way she’s sniffing. This can’t be good.

  “I figured you’d already seen it.”

  “Seen what?” Now she’s just irritating me, and I think she knows it.

  “Um, can I show you something?” She tilts her head toward the center console where my phone is sitting.

  I almost forgot her mom took her phone away, so I grab mine, enter the password and then hand it to her. This is such a major show of trust, letting her into my phone. Crap, I wouldn’t even let Tara, my ex-best friend, into my phone, and I’d known her forever. But Liv and I have become especially close since school started, and I’m so grateful for her friendship. Without her I’d be lost, and I think she feels exactly the same about me.

  Livvy bends her head, nibbling on her lower lip as she opens the Instagram app and starts scrolling. “My mom didn’t take away my laptop and she forgets I can still text and see Instagram on there.” I glance at the clock on my dash, worried if we sit here for too much longer we’ll be late for first period.

  When she hands me my phone and I stare at the photo she pulled up for me to see, I realize in an instant I don’t care if I’m late for school. My stomach pitches and rolls almost violently, and I slap my hand over my mouth, frightened for a moment that I might throw up all over my lap and my phone.

  It’s a photo of Ryan—Livvy’s boyfriend—and Tuttle, along with Em and a girl I remember Tuttle talking to one night at a party he was having. The one who’s name he couldn’t remember, yet he knew she’d given him a blowjob, which is the epitome of tacky.

  All four of them are close to each other. Em is in Ryan’s lap. Tuttle and the skank are wrapped around each other, all of them smiling at the camera, which I think Em is holding, snapping a selfie to immortalize forever.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumble, causing Livvy to snatch my phone out of my hands before she’s shoving at my shoulder.

  “Get out of the car! Puke on the lawn! Hurry!”

  Her suggestion is totally valid. I scramble out of the car and bend over, resting my hands on my knees as I wait to throw up my toast and coffee breakfast all over the strip of dying lawn that divides Livvy’s house from her neighbor’s. But nothing comes up and I realize the longer I stare at the yellow lawn, the more unfocused my vision gets.

  God, this is so incredibly disappointing. And that’s the worst thing. I’m furious at myself for actually believing I had a chance with Jordan Tuttle.

  Clearly I was delusional.

  “I didn’t want to tell you like this!” Livvy is yelling from the car. I stand up straight and watch her warily, noting the sadness in her eyes, how her face looks ready to crumple at any given moment. “I was kind of hoping you would’ve caught the photo on Em’s feed, though honestly, I don’t know which way to find out is worse.”

  “Em posted this?” Oh. My. God.

  That bitch.

  “Yeah.” Livvy nods and sniffs. “Last night.”

  My blood is immediately boiling. Whenever there’s something bad happening, Em always seems to be behind it. The girl is toxic. Poison. She’s also Livvy’s former best friend.

  I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her.

  “I was with Tuttle yesterday,” I say as I get back into the car, my mind going over everything that happened yesterday. What time he dropped me off at my house—around five—which gave him plenty of time to go somewhere else with Ryan and end up with the girls.

  “For how long?” When I tell her, her mouth turns grim. “He could’ve left you and ended up with Ryan and Em and whatever her name is…”

  I want to believe he would never do that to me. Every tiny molecule that makes me into who I am literally aches for that to be the truth.

  But maybe…maybe it’s not. Maybe he did leave my house to go meet another girl. He is a known player. Who am I to him, really? He says a bunch of stuff, and it all sounds good, but maybe he says the same thing to lots of girls.

  “The photo looks recent. Not like her and Ryan have known each other that long, but you know what I mean. Maybe it’s from another time when they were together?” she asks almost hopefully.

  “Please. This was taken last night.” I’m going with that. It’s almost easier to believe the absolute worst right from the start. Gets the painful part over with, you know?

  “You really think so?”

  Glancing in Livvy’s direction, I see the shock etched all over her face. She doesn’t want this to be true. She’d rather believe it was an old photo and Ryan is innocent. Of course she feels that way. He’s her boyfriend. She just recently gave up her V-card to that guy. He’s sort of a douche, but a hot douche, so I can kind of understand her attraction. Sort of like how Tuttle’s a hot douche too.

  Disgusted with my Tuttle-filled thoughts, I hit the button to shut off my phone’s screen and drop it into the center console cup holder. “If this didn’t happen last night, then they were probably together very, very recently.”

  Liv says nothing and I stare out the windshield, my fingers curled tight around the steering wheel. I need to start the car and drive to school, but it’s like I’m paralyzed. Going to school means facing Tuttle, and he’s suddenly become the last person I want to see.

  “What are we going to do?” Livvy whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know what to say to Ryan. I don’t want to look like the jealous girlfriend—he hates that sort of thing. But I don’t know how else to handle this without confronting him.”

  Ugh. Proof a
gain that Ryan is a total jerk. He runs hot and cold with Liv, especially before they officially got together. “You’re allowed to be the jealous girlfriend. He has his hands all over Em, yet you’re supposed to be his girlfriend,” I remind her, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “They’ve hooked up before,” Livvy says.

  “Who cares? He’s with you now. Or at least he’s supposed to be.” I turn the key in the ignition almost violently, pressing my foot on the gas so the car’s engine revs up, loud and rumbling. I thought hearing it would bring me some satisfaction but so far, no go.

  Livvy is watching me in shock, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. “Um, are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m not okay,” I bite out as I put the car into reverse, glance over my shoulder and back out of the driveway. I do it so fast that when I put the car into drive, my tires squeal as I pull away from Livvy’s house.

  I don’t want to go to school. I don’t want to face the whispers and the rumors and stupid Tuttle’s handsome face. He’ll tell me it was all a misunderstanding, and if I stare into his eyes for too long, I’ll probably agree with him. Forgive him. Forget all about that girl cozied up next to him.

  How I wish I could go back to yesterday. Sitting with him at the coffee shop, listening to his sweet words and not savoring them enough. Oh, and I can’t forget that amazing kiss in front of my house. For all the time we’ve spent together these last few months, we’ve never really taken it very far. The most we ever did was the night I discovered my now ex-boyfriend having sex with my now ex-best friend…

  My entire body goes warm at the memory. We hooked up that night and took it pretty far, but not too far. I didn’t give him every piece of me. Thank goodness.

  That’s what I keep telling myself.

  Thank goodness.

  The bell rings and I shoot out of my class as fast as I can, staring straight ahead as I exit the doorway and turn left when I normally turn right. I’m moving against the crowd, since everyone’s either making their way toward the cafeteria or the parking lot, and I do my best not to make eye contact. No one pays me any attention anyway, which is a good thing.

  But then again it infuriates me. It’s like I don’t even rate, and I’ve been with the most popular boy at school, not that anyone really knew this. Though I’m sure if anyone did see me with Tuttle they probably thought we were working together on a class project or whatever. No way could he see anything in me.

  Ugh. I’m actually pissed people aren’t noticing me when I don’t want them to notice me. I make no sense.

  I blame it all on Tuttle.

  The crowd thins as I make my way farther down the hall and that’s when I spot her. Liv is standing close to Ryan, laughing up at him after he leans in close to her ear and whispers something.

  My stomach twists and I fight the disappointment that wants to take over me. I knew she’d cave fast.

  “Amanda!” she shouts when she spots me, and she waves me over after we make eye contact. I approach them slowly, my feet feeling like they’re encased in cement instead of my worn-out Converse. “Hey, you,” she says cheerily when I stop in front of them.

  Ryan flicks his chin at me in that boy way that’s supposed to be a greeting. I say nothing in return, just send him a withering look. Like she can sense what I’m about to do—say something rude to him—Liv grabs hold of my arm before I say something ugly and leads me away from her boyfriend.

  “Please don't give me any crap,” she starts, and I shake my head, cutting her off.

  “So you believed him.” My voice is flat and I send her an accusatory glare.

  Livvy sighs as we stop on the opposite end of the lockers. “I believe him because he’s telling me the truth. The photo was taken at a party late last summer. Before I came back from my dad’s, and when he was with…” Her voice fades and she wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t want to say the same so I supply it for her.

  “Em?” I raise both brows and she rolls her eyes.

  “Yes. Em. It’s an old photo. He swore up and down he was being one hundred percent honest. He hasn’t been near Em since we’ve been together.” She leans in close, her voice dropping. “You should believe Tuttle too. That photo is old. And I know he’s totally into you.”

  I hate how my body reacts just hearing someone else say his last name. I’m pretty sure it’s not normal. “Why should I believe him? So he can go out and do something like this again? Because it’ll happen, I can almost guarantee it. Some other girl will come out of the woodwork full of half-truths and make him look bad, and I won’t be able to trust him. Or worse, he’ll cheat on me. Remember, he doesn’t do relationships.”

  “Is that what you really believe?”

  I whirl around, my heart dropping when I see Tuttle standing in front of me looking stupid gorgeous clad in dark jeans and his football jersey. He also looks really angry and…hurt?

  No way.

  “That girls will always be a problem for you?” For us? “Yes.”

  “You don’t think I can be faithful to you.” He’s not asking a question. He’s just stating the obvious.

  “You’ve never had a girlfriend before.” I lift my chin, trying my best to appear strong. I don’t like having him so close. Temptation sweeps over me, urging me to take another step forward and wrap my arms around him. But I fight the impulse and win. “I’m guessing there’s a reason for that.”

  “Right, because I fuck every girl I see. I can’t control myself.” The lack of emotion in his voice and on his face is unnerving. When he crosses his arms, he looks intimidating. I take a step back.

  “I never said that,” I start, but Ryan speaks over me.

  “Come on, Amanda. Are you really going to be such a bitch?”

  I turn on him, ready to tell him where to shove it, but I don’t have to.

  Tuttle is on him in an instant, his hand curled into the front of Ryan’s shirt, pinning him against the metal lockers. The locks rattle and shake when Tuttle shoves him again, stepping closer so they’re in each other’s faces.

  “I don’t ever want to hear you call Amanda that again.” He twists Ryan’s shirt tighter and Ryan curses under his breath. “Tell her you’re sorry.”

  “Jesus, she’s treating you like crap, and you still act like this?” The locks rattle once more as Tuttle pushes Ryan yet again, and his gaze meets mine. “Fine, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

  Tuttle lets him go with one last shove and then turns to face me. His handsome face is a mask of ferociousness, and his eyes are so hot I swear they singe my skin when he looks at me.

  “You can think whatever you want,” he says between clenched teeth. “Believe what you want. You know how I feel.”

  “No, I really don’t know,” I throw back at him, my voice shaky. I’m not one for violence, but watching Jordan push Ryan against the lockers in defense of me was all kinds of hot. My entire body is tingling and the urge to throw myself at him for a job well done must be some sort of instinctual reaction. “You’ve never told me.”

  Our gazes lock. Never waver. Ryan and Liv slink away. A few people pass by us, but Tuttle doesn’t even notice. Neither do I.

  “I thought I showed you. I thought that was good enough.” He takes a deep breath. Exhales loudly. “Guess not.”

  That’s the last thing he says before he brushes past me, his shoulder bumping into mine as he goes by. I turn to watch him walk away, shocked and annoyed that he left me wanting more. Left me feeling bad, like I should chase after him, full of apologies. But I don’t. I refuse to play his head games. He’ll only end up hurting me.

  Better to stay safe and alone versus getting burned.

  Liv stayed after school to watch Ryan practice—gag. I’m so disappointed in her. She forgave Ryan way too easily, but she did point out yet again that maybe I was the one being stubborn.

  Maybe she’s right. I don’t know, nor do I care. My decision is made. Ever since Tuttle pushed his way into my life, things haven’t been right
. I know I’m the one who sort of fell on him at his party last summer after the Thad and Tara fiasco, and that really my life was thrown into complete turmoil after that unpleasant incident. Yet he’s the one who continues to confuse me. Brings drama into my life. Drama I don’t want or need.

  After lunch I have AP English with Tuttle, and I sit in my usual spot at the front of the class, refusing to look back at him. My neck remains warm the entire period. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me, staring at my nape. I totally regret wearing my hair in a high ponytail.

  When the bell rings, I bolt out of class so fast I run into the edge of a desk on my way out. That probably caused a major bruise.

  But at least I didn’t have to talk to Tuttle. See his face. Look into his eyes.

  Instead of driving straight home after school like I normally would, I go in search of a job. It’s time for me to grab hold of my life and control it. I need money. Lots of it—and all for college. Working a part-time job after school and during the weekends wouldn’t make me much, but it’s a start.

  I pull into a shopping center parking lot and walk from store to store, asking if they were hiring. Asking for applications. Most of them told me to apply online, especially the chain stores, and I knew I’d never hear back from them. I need to find a local store, a place that’s run by the actual owners versus a management crew hired by corporate. But those types of businesses are getting harder to find.

  So when I stop in front of Yo Town, a relatively new frozen yogurt place located at the far end of the shopping center, I’m thinking it might have strong possibilities.

  Pushing open the door, I walk into the chilly shop, noting how clean it looks. A vaguely familiar teenage boy sits on a stool behind the counter with his back against the brightly painted wall, his head buried in a book. So buried, I really can’t see his face at all, just a shock of light brown hair sticks up above the open book, his lanky body hunched over as he reads.