Just Friends: YA Contemporary Romance

  I saw Danny sitting with his ballroom team, his eyes wide and animated as he gestured wildly with his hands. Charity sat with the same girls from this morning, and they were bent over a notebook in the middle of the table. I watched Greg wolf down two slices of pizza and then, I watched him watch the girl’s basketball team. I wondered if he stared at Holly like that.

  I felt removed from everyone else in the cafeteria, like I existed inside my own bubble, where sister drama and friend worries and athletics couldn’t penetrate. As long as I could breathe here, everything was fine.

  Then Greg’s gaze swung toward me, the bubble popped, and I tuned back into what Ivy was saying. “Do you know how the cross-country team will do?”

  I swallowed nervously as I felt Greg’s eyes on my back. I wondered if this was how Holly felt all the time. “Great,” I said. “Our team is pretty strong this year.”

  We did have a strong team. Coach Braeburn was expecting us to win on Friday. After practice yesterday, he’d pulled me aside and told me to keep whatever was pissing me off close until the meet. At first I didn’t know what he meant. Then I realized that I’d broken my personal best time, as well as the school record, for the 10K. I hadn’t been able to slow down my feet, thinking that if I could just run fast enough, everything with Jade, and Drew, and Holly would work itself out by the time I completed the circuit.

  As Ivy slung her arm through mine again, this time her nails digging into my forearm, I couldn’t help but recognize that all my problems stemmed from girls. My sister. Friends I wanted to keep as friends, like Holly and Ivy. And friends I wanted to promote to girlfriends, like Jade.

  When Charity waggled her fingers at me, I added her to the list of girls who were causing a major pain in my mind.

  English lit brought relief. Before class, I managed to chat with Jade without making a fool of myself. I told her Holly had my phone, but I’d try to get it back before fourth period, so we could text. Her smile crinkled a little when I mentioned Holly, and something hot shot through my blood.

  “She’s just a friend,” I said, maybe with too much bite in my tone. “We’re just friends.”

  Jade flinched ever so slightly. “I know.”

  “I just want to make sure you know,” I said. “Because—” Freak. Was this how I’d ask her out? Right here in third period English lit, with Ivy four rows over and frowning? Seconds from the bell ringing?

  Jade waited, her eyes looking straight into mine.

  “Because, you know, sometimes my girlfriends get Holly all mixed up into places she isn’t.”

  She blinked-blinked. The bell rang.

  “Your girlfriends?” she asked, ignoring the bell.

  “Well, you know, if you want to go out sometime… I’d—” I swallowed back my nerves. “I’d like that.”

  Mrs. Nordstrom called the class to order by switching off the lights and flipping on the smart board. “Motifs in Huck Finn,” she boomed, like she’d won the lottery and would be going to Disneyland with her winnings.

  Jade turned around without answering, without smiling, without any sort of reaction I could judge. I swallowed again, half relieved we hadn’t had time to discuss it, and half ticked I didn’t have my phone so we could discuss it.

  Not that a discussion was what I wanted. I’d probably just text so u want to wait and I’ll drive u home after track?

  Or maybe, u could come over for dinner tonight if u want.

  Or maybe I wouldn’t text at all. After vomiting up the word girlfriend, maybe Jade needed to respond first.

  8

  Holly loitered in the hall outside of English lit, my phone in her hand and a knowing smile on her face. She looked completely different than she had after history. Less pissed, yet somehow still scary—in a I know something you don’t know way.

  “What?” I stopped in the classroom doorway.

  “You have new texts,” she singsonged. “From Jade Montgomery.”

  I snatched the phone from her. “You read those?”

  Her face fell. “I’ve always read your texts,” she said defensively. “You read mine.”

  Someone knocked into me from behind, and I moved into the hall so I wasn’t blocking the doorway. “I know,” I said, lowering my voice. “But I told you I wasn’t sure about her yet.”

  “I didn’t press you about her,” she argued back in the same hushed tone.

  “You read my texts from her.”

  “I always read your texts.” She straightened, and as I looked down at her, I saw anger in her eyes. “You can’t take that from me too, Mitch.”

  “Take what?” I asked. And too? What else had I taken?

  “I need—” Holly cleared her throat and her expression smoothed into stone. As quick as the hurt had been erased, the playfulness came back. I just stared at her, trying to keep up.

  “You asked her out,” Holly said, smiling now. “And she said—”

  “Shut up,” I hissed as Jade moved past us in the hall. She tossed a smile over her shoulder before she rounded the corner that led to the Tech hall.

  “Yes,” Holly said gleefully. “She said yes!”

  I unlocked my phone, trying to figure out what was going on with Holly’s whiplash personality, but unable to keep the smile off my face. Jade had texted four times.

  I know you don’t have your phone.

  But I’d love to go out sometime.

  You know, if you want.

  I know you and Holly are just friends.

  I hadn’t even noticed her texting in front of me. She was smart and savvy.

  “So youth group tonight, molasses boy? Or are you going to blow me and Omar off for Jade?” Holly held out her hand for her phone.

  I took it out of my pocket and gave it to her. “I didn’t have time to adequately explain how one horn actually makes the unicorn superior. It’s not about the number of horns, it’s about the quality contained therein.”

  She laughed, that best friend laugh I missed so much. “I’ll do my best to rebut that for tomorrow.” She stuck the phone in her backpack. “So youth group? And history essays after?”

  I wanted to blurt yes. Yes, I’ll be there. I wanted to fill Holly in on everything that had happened with Drew and Omar, and how possessive Ivy had become, and how trying out for the show choir without Holly was killing me. I knew I’d also have to tell her about holding hands with Jade, but I didn’t think I could get through it without sounding like too much of an idiot.

  But we weren’t talking, just staring at each other. The weirdness between us felt thick, stretching like a rubber band.

  “I need—” Holly said again, just as Lance settled his arm around her shoulders.

  “A man to keep you warm at night? I’m right here, baby.” He grinned at her the same way he’d smiled at that girl in the cafeteria.

  “Way to keep it classy,” I said.

  Holly turned to Lance, snuggling closer to him. “My nights are already filled with warmth, Lance-honey. But I will take a ride after track.” She looked at me, and I wasn’t sure what I saw in her face, but it looked like satisfaction. “So, Molasses Mitch, will tonight be youth group with me or a hot date with your new girlfriend?”

  “I’ll text you,” I said, ignoring the smug smile on Lance’s face. “And I think Omar’s going to hang out with Drew, so…”

  “Maybe I do need you,” Holly said, looking up at Lance with a smile that looked semi-forced. I shook my head at his gleeful expression and joined the stream of students moving to fourth period. I had no idea what was going on with Holly, but the high of going out with Jade outweighed my confusion.

  Unfortunately, I arrived late to biology and Mr. Newton already had the class in the lab. I couldn’t text Jade back, and instead, I snapped on rubber gloves and handled something slimy and green for the next eighty-five minutes.

  I didn’t have much time after school to text her either, but I stole ten seconds to type Horrors of decomposition in biology. Couldn’t text. Late to
track. I’ll call u on my way home, k?

  I’d changed into my running shorts and my muscles were twitching to beat out everything that had happened in the hall after English lit. I left my phone behind, left my thoughts behind, left everything behind.

  9

  Someone knocked on the garage entrance at six-fifteen, and I leapt from the dinner table to answer it. “It’s Holly.” I grabbed the car keys, my phone, and my wallet from the kitchen counter. “Youth group. I’ll be back later.”

  “Aren’t you going?” I heard Dad ask, but whether he was talking to Drew or Omar, or both, I wasn’t sure.

  Their voices faded as I pulled open the door and joined Holly in the garage. She waved to my family and Omar and then got in the passenger seat of my car. The radio came on loud, the way I’d had it after I’d hung up with Jade. I’d been too jazzed to ride in silence, but I reached to turn it down now.

  Holly didn’t say anything. Just buckled her seatbelt and adjusted her sunglasses. So it was going to be History-Holly tonight—a pissed off version of the girl I knew. I wondered if her piano had been abused before she came over, but I’d barely had time to shower and eat so I hadn’t heard anything.

  “So Pumpkinland tonight,” I said, just to fill the holes left in the melody coming from the radio.

  “Yeah,” Holly said.

  “Sucks Omar wouldn’t come,” I continued. “He must really like Drew.”

  “Yeah,” Holly said again, leaving me feeling like a weight had settled on my chest. I wanted her to tell me what to do about Omar and Drew, if I should be upset or just let this thing play itself out.

  The silence between us was usually easy. I’d never felt like I needed to stuff it full of words or worry about what she might be thinking. But now, since we hadn’t talked for a while—and bantering over a unicorn horn didn’t count—I gripped the wheel tighter in an attempt to steady myself.

  I wanted to apologize for freaking out over her reading my texts to Jade, but I didn’t know how. I had called Jade after track, and I’d asked her out for Saturday night. There was a concert in the park, and then I was thinking about dinner at the oldest diner in town, Ethel’s. And I’d done it without checking with Holly first. It felt good, like maybe I could manage at least one of my own relationships without her help.

  “How’s Scott?” I finally asked when we were halfway to the rec center, a building that didn’t have a powerful air conditioner or enough custodians to completely eradicate the smell of sweat. Her little brother was in eighth grade, and I hadn’t seen him shooting hoops out front like he usually did. Drew had been all into him, but now that she was at the high school and he wasn’t, she’d gotten over her crush.

  “He got suspended,” Holly said. “Three days.”

  “Wow. Why?” I asked.

  “Got into a fight. On Monday.”

  “Bet your mom is mad.”

  “She freaked out. Called my dad. Scott might go live with him for the rest of the school year.”

  I glanced at her, the pieces of her puzzle suddenly falling into place just like the black and white keys on her piano. She kept her face turned toward the window, and her voice didn’t give anything away.

  “Really?” I asked. “She’ll send him away?”

  “I don’t know,” Holly said.

  “Does Scott want to go?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t talk to me about it.”

  “Can your dad take care of him? Doesn’t he practically live at his law firm?” I’d heard Holly’s mom say that lots of times.

  “I don’t know,” Holly said.

  “Well, what—?”

  “I don’t know, Mitch,” Holly snapped. “Freak. Can we not talk about it anymore?”

  “Sure.” My voice sounded wounded, though I tried to swallow the hurt back. Holly hadn’t yelled at me like that since the day her grandma died a couple of years ago. She’d been upset, worried. Just like she was now.

  I wanted to tell her that it would be okay. That Scott would just go back to school on Friday, and everything would work out.

  “What do you need from me?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she bit out. “I don’t need a single thing from you, Mitch.”

  She was lying. I couldn’t believe she’d gone this long without telling me about Scott’s suspension, and she’d said “I need” to me twice at school today. I’d screwed something up, and I didn’t even know what.

  I knew I acted overprotective with Drew, almost like her father as she so often accused. Dad had trained me to do just that. But I’d done it to Holly too, constantly going over our homework that was due, and what her times were in the 400. Before that, I reminded her what time show choir was and I commented on how clean she kept her bedroom. I’d even set her phone alarm for a couple of months so she could get up and run. She’d made the track team because of my training schedule.

  I felt like an idiot. My father had taught me to always do the right thing, at the right time. I never turned in my homework late. I did my chores. I ate what my coach dictated. I did everything I was asked, even if I didn’t want to, right down to taking out the trash in a Kansas blizzard so Mom would be happy.

  Mom said Lance didn’t know how to treat girls because he didn’t have a good female role model. Dad said Holly looked to me as her male example since her dad left when she was eleven. They told me that Omar needed to see how a real family functioned since his certainly didn’t. They said I needed to be the solid, responsible friend for each of them. I’d tried. I’d tried, and all it was getting me was an ulcer—and pissed off friends.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted. “Okay? For whatever it is you’re mad at me about. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t look at me or otherwise acknowledge that I’d spoken. I wanted to stuff this silence full of assurances for her and Scott, and then yammer on about show choir and the dreaded pilgrim essay so she’d relax and we could be like we used to be.

  As I turned onto State Street, I thought, We might never be how we used to be.

  On Friday after school, I swung my arms behind my back, and then around to the front. Back, front. I bounced on the balls of my feet. I nodded when Coach Braeburn spoke. Anything to keep from looking into the stands where my mom sat with Jade and Drew. They were supportive to come and watch me run, especially because they’d only be able to see me run for the first 600 meters before I’d veer off toward the driver’s ed lot and into the surrounding plains. The ten-kilometer course wound down by the river where it would be shady, and then back to the high school, where my mom could see me finish the last 400 meters.

  I was hoping to be first in the meet today. I’d been training to be first. Pushing myself to be first. I glanced into the stands, where Jade waved and Drew typed on her phone. I thought about Omar, and what she was saying to him, and the fire started in my stomach. When Lance stepped beside me, I knew: I was going to win this.

  I heard my mom—and Jade—cheering as the announcer called the cross-country runners to the starting line. The seven of us from Stony Brook High lined up together, our arms draped across each other’s shoulders. There were four teams: us, one from our city, and two from neighboring towns. Our rivals and biggest competition, the Westlake Vikings, pressed in close to our team.

  Only the top five times would be applied toward the team score, and I’d never ran a race where my time didn’t count. Lance usually set the pace coming off the starting line, but something twitched in my feet.

  Without a cue, we dropped our arms and took our starting stances. The whistle blew, and I jolted forward. The team from Westlake came out strong, setting a reasonable clip for the first quarter-mile.

  Screw reasonable, I thought. Screw Omar. Screw Drew. Screw being responsible.

  With every thought, I passed another runner. My legs felt good, strong. The air filled my lungs, left my lungs, at a satisfying clip. As we exited the track and moved up the rise toward the drivers ed lot, I felt invincible.

  Screw Hol
ly was my last thought before I ran away from everything—and everyone—I didn’t want to think about.

  10

  I put up the best time. Another personal record, shaving three-hundredths of a second off my time. The fastest men’s time in three counties, Coach Braeburn said. He also said things about college, and scholarships, and news reporters. I stood there, my chest heaving as I continued my cool down routine. I felt like I could run another ten kilometers. Then another ten.

  I didn’t want to settle back into my life quite yet. Mom waved as she bustled off with a cleavage-covered Drew. I didn’t see where Jade had gone, and some of my frustration melted into nerves.

  I didn’t see Holly either. She always wandered over to see my time after her sprints. At least, she always had before. We’d done everything together before. I checked her times. She checked mine.

  She’d been in Kansas City visiting her dad during freshmen track tryouts, but with my conditioning schedule, she sailed onto the team as a sophomore. Since then, we trained together every day and we drove home together after practice. But Holly dating Greg had ruined everything. For the first time, I didn’t even want to think about anything track-related.

  I did my best to keep myself from glancing toward the stands-side of the track, but I failed. I saw Holly there, talking to Jade.

  A blip of annoyance ran through me. I couldn’t sort through what I was feeling. I’d never been conflicted like this before, and if I had, I just told Holly everything and she helped me reason through what needed to be done so I could stop feeling so backward.

  “Mitch!”

  I was attacked by a girl with a whipping ponytail and seemingly too many arms. I stumbled backward as Ivy wrapped herself around me, squealing about my record-breaking time and a bunch of other stuff I couldn’t catch.