More than Friends - Monica Murphy

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More than Friends - Monica Murphy Page 20

by Monica Murphy


  I check on him again. He’s still staring at his stupid iPad.

  Yeah. Working on our project.

  And you’re talking about BJs with him sitting next to you? So brave.

  I’m trying to come up with a good response when she sends something else.

  Did that happen with you and Tuttle? Did he ask you to use a condom before you blew him!!??

  No, not at all. But the BJ part…

  OMG spill woman!

  Let’s just say I gave him a BJ and I haven’t really talked to him since. Until now.

  Ummm, I hate to say this.

  NM.

  You can’t leave me like that. Tell me.

  I don’t want to hurt your feelings or worry you Amanda, but that’s totally his MO.

  What do you mean?

  He gets a BJ and then he disappears like a ghost.

  But he would never do that to you! At least, he better not.

  Or I’m going to kick his ass.

  Oh! I’ll have Ryan kick his ass for me. For YOU.

  We’re here for you babe. Promise.

  Her texts only confirm my worst fears.

  I’m about to go to out to football practice when I hear someone call my name. I turn to find Liv running toward me, her cheeks pink from exertion or making out with Ryan, I’m not sure which.

  “I made an appointment for us,” she tells me once she catches her breath.

  I frown. “An appointment for what?”

  “Planned Parenthood!”

  Wow, she said that extremely loud. I give her a stern look and she winces, realizing her mistake. “Tomorrow at four. Well, I’m at four, you’re at four-thirty,” she says at a much lower decibel.

  “What exactly are we going to, uh, PP for?” I told her I didn’t need to get on the pill. There’s no point. I’m not having sex, so I won’t get pregnant. And after the way Jordan treated me in class, how he bolted out of his seat the moment the bell rang, completely ignoring me, I have a sinking feeling that whatever we had, whatever we’d been working toward?

  It’s all over.

  My heart aches. So does my head. I’m so confused. I want to chase after him. I want to kick his ass. I can’t make up my mind which way to go.

  But I plan on soldiering on. I don’t really have a choice, do I? “Please, cancel my appointment,” I tell her. “I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”

  “Amanda.” She grabs my arm, preventing me from leaving. “Come with me, okay? I need—I really need the support. And I’ll support you, I promise. You may as well go to the appointment and get on the pill. Then you’ll be safe. We’ll both be safe.”

  I see the fear in her gaze and I realize she is truly freaked out over the condom breaking with Ryan. And she really wants me to be there for her. “I have football practice tomorrow. And I have it right now. I’m gonna be late.”

  She makes a face. “What? You’ve joined the team now?”

  “Kyla asked me to help her with the hydration station. She doesn’t like working it alone.”

  “Please, Amanda,” Livvy says, sounding desperate. “I really need you to go with me. Can’t you tell her you have an appointment and you can’t make it tomorrow?”

  I feel like that’s all I do lately. Make excuses to please someone else. I’m doing this water girl thing for Tuttle. Well, I did it for myself to get closer to Tuttle, but look how well that worked for me. We’re back at square one. No, it’s worse than square one. We started to advance and make real, actual progress, but now we’ve ended up in this weird limbo place where it’s awkward and uncomfortable and we look at each other like we’ve seen each other naked because, oh yeah, we have seen each other naked before. And now it’s just weird.

  And awkward.

  And awful.

  “Hey, did you ever talk to Em like you said you would?” I ask her.

  Liv lets go of my arm, her expression turning distant. “No.”

  “Why not?” She is so frustrating. Everyone is frustrating. And no, I’m not being the asshole here. Fact: I surround myself with frustrating people on a daily basis. I must like being tortured.

  She shrugs. “I haven’t had time, okay? And honestly, I don’t really miss her from my life.”

  “What? Seriously? Come on, Liv. Don’t be so cold-hearted.”

  “Please, she’s the cold-hearted one, trying to sabotage my relationship every chance she gets. Being mean to me, pushing Brianne Brown on Dustin, the photos with her hanging all over Ryan, all the tricks and constant bullshit. I really don’t need that in my life anymore, you know? Without her around, everything’s become a lot easier.”

  “Is that how you really feel, Olivia?”

  I freeze. Close my eyes. Crap. I know that voice. It’s Em. And she’s standing directly behind me.

  The cool expression on Liv’s face betrays nothing. She’s like a statue, cold and unmoving. “I didn’t mean for you to hear all of that, but…yes. That is exactly how I feel.”

  I glance over my shoulder and see Em. She looks heartbroken. Her eyes fill with tears and her lower lip trembles, like she’s barely holding it together. I want to offer her comfort, but I know that’ll make Liv mad. And ultimately, I’m Liv’s friend first.

  So I need to stick with where my loyalty lies.

  “I was hoping we could become friends again. I was really hoping we could forgive each other and move on, but I guess not.” Em sounds so lost and sad, I want to go to her and offer her comfort. But I don’t. I just give her a sympathetic smile, though she’s not even looking at me.

  “Even after everything that happened, you really believed that?” Liv asks incredulously.

  “Of course I really believed that. We all believe what we want, right? But I guess my beliefs were too crazy to be real.” With a shake of her head, Em stalks off, never once looking back.

  Liv blows out a harsh breath. “Well. That was surprisingly easy.”

  I whirl on her. “You wanted her to hear that?”

  “Maybe not all of it, but I’ve definitely wanted to tell her how I really felt. I just didn’t know how.” She sighs. “I didn’t have the guts.”

  I stare at her, shocked that she doesn’t feel even remotely bad for what she said. When I don’t say anything, I witness Livvy’s immediate slide into defense mode.

  “Things are so much better now, Amanda! You’ve seen how I am. How Ryan and I are doing. We’re getting along great. We are closer than ever. Plus, I have you in my life. I’ve made some friends in Yearbook. I don’t need anyone else, and I definitely don’t need Em stirring the pot and screwing things up.”

  Maybe Liv’s right. Maybe she is better off without Em in her life. Em just seemed so lost, so sad. I really wanted to give Liv back Em, and maybe that’s my own guilt seeping in, I can’t help it. I wish they could get along.

  I’m truly starting to believe that’ll never happen. And I need to accept that.

  “So.” Liv’s face turns plaintive. “Will you go with me to PP tomorrow? Please? I really need you there. I can’t ask Ryan to go with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’ll freak out. I assured him I could never get pregnant, even if the condom broke, but I don’t know about that. What if I can get pregnant? He will die. He might even…” Liv’s face starts to fall and I reach for her. Grab her by the shoulders and give her a solid shake.

  “You’re not—” My voice lowers. “—pregnant. I can feel it in my bones. And my bones never lie.”

  Liv giggles, but only for a moment before she’s somber again. “I won’t feel better unless I go and get checked tomorrow. And get on the pill. I need to do this, Amanda. For peace of mind, more than anything.”

  Sighing, I curl my arm around her and haul her in close to me. “Fine. We’ll go. But right after you’ll need to bring me back here so I can work on with the team during practice.” Practices can run until six sometimes, and maybe if we get out of our appointments early enough, I can help for the last half hour or so.” />
  “What exactly are you doing for them anyway? I just thought you were the water girl at the games.”

  “Apparently now I’m the water girl during practice too. Staying hydrated doesn’t ever stop, you know.”

  “You sound like a commercial.” Livvy rolls her eyes then draws me into a hug. “I need to get home. My mom’s expecting me. I’ll text you later, okay?”

  “Bye.”

  I walk out to the football field alone, my mind filled with too many thoughts. Thankfully, a lot of those thoughts aren’t my own and don’t involve Jordan Tuttle, which is nice. It feels like a little reprieve, worrying about someone else’s problems. I have enough, and really don’t want to add more to the mix if I can help it.

  But as I draw closer to the field and see the boys out there, I can’t help but think of Tuttle. And how he cut me off.

  And how mad that makes me.

  Kyla spots me approaching and waves me over. She shows me the elaborate hydration station with all the brisk efficiency of someone who’s been at this for a long time. She is in her element here on the sidelines. The boys all treat her like she’s their little sister or adopted mascot.

  She takes it all in stride, laughing and teasing, sometimes flirting, though not too much. She’s very professional. I can’t help but envy how easy she makes everything seem. Working with the boys, organizing the water, jumping to it when Coach Halsey screams her name. There’s never a hair out of place, her placid expression proving she’s unflappable. I wish I were that confident.

  The coaches are running the boys through endless drills, though I don’t really pay attention. I’m too busy working the hydration station, trying to figure it out as I fill one empty water bottle after another. Kyla’s taking care of an injured player and most of the JV team is milling around the hydration station, including one Eli Bennett, Ryan’s younger brother.

  “I know you,” he says, pointing his index finger right at me.

  “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to point?” One of the other guys slaps Eli’s hand down and a few of them chuckle.

  Eli glares at the kid before resuming his examination of me. “You’ve been at my house.”

  Oh man. I so do not want to go down this road. “Want some water?” I offer him a water bottle.

  “Nah.” He shakes his head, his sweaty hair flying, then spits on the ground. Gross. “What’s your name?”

  “She’s a senior, Bennett,” another one of his teammates yells at him. “Save it for a girl who’ll really go for you.”

  “Maybe I like older women.” He directs a dazzling smile straight at me, and I can’t lie—the boy is gorgeous, just like his brother. He has the same golden brown hair and the strong jaw, though his eyes are more of a hazel color versus green like Ryan’s. He’s the JV team’s quarterback, and while he’s not extraordinarily tall, Eli is lean and muscled. He can throw the perfect spiral and he’s led the team in a big way this season.

  And what? Now he’s showing interest in…me? This has to be a joke.

  “You were with Tuttle,” Eli says as he saunters toward me. “At my house, for Ryan’s party. You were sitting on the bus together Friday night. You two a thing, or what?”

  I want to say or what so bad, but I keep my mouth shut. I shrug instead. I don’t want to say we’re something when we’re not. And I don’t want to say we’re nothing when we could be.

  Meaning, I’m a confused mess and I don’t know how to answer Eli’s question.

  “If she’s with Tuttle, you need to leave her alone, bro. Remember what he said?” The other guy leans over and whispers in Eli’s ear, resulting in the both of them cracking up.

  Remember what he said? What did Tuttle say? About me?

  “Leave her the fuck alone, Bennett.” The growly voice is none other than Jordan Tuttle himself. I should’ve known he’d show up in my time of supposed need. I don’t bother looking at him because damn it, I’m still pissed. And I don’t want him always running to my defense.

  “I’ve got this,” I say, smiling sweetly at Eli. He gives me a questioning look in return, and I take a few steps toward him, trying to get my flirt on. “I’m with no one,” I tell Eli. “And while freshmen usually do nothing for me, I might take you under consideration.”

  All the guys start making noise, even Eli, who’s laughing and getting plenty of slaps on the back. The only one who’s quiet is Jordan. I can feel the anger rising off of him, like a living, breathing thing. But I still won’t look at him. I just flash Eli a giant smile before I resume my hydration station duties.

  The JV boys run back onto the field, yet Jordan remains. Kyla is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of us, and I know I’m going to have to face him sometime. Slowly I turn to look at him, and the hurt I see in his gaze takes me aback.

  “You’re really interested in Eli?” He sounds incredulous.

  I sigh. Guess I’m not any good at this making Jordan jealous thing. “No. I was just…playing around.”

  “With that kid? He’s a total punk.” He stares out at the field. “Damn good player, though.”

  “Kinda like you?”

  He faces me once more. “I’m not a punk.”

  I muffle a laugh. “Please.”

  “I think I’ve grown out of that stage.”

  “Explain to me then the radio silence these last few days.” I cross my arms, waiting for his answer.

  Jordan blows out a harsh breath and squints into the sun. Of course he looks amazing when he should really look ridiculous. He’s wearing this dark blue cotton Nike headband that girls normally wear, keeping his hair out of his face. He’s got his navy blue practice jersey on, and white uniform pants that mold to every part of him. He’s a little dirty and a little sweaty and a whole lot sexy.

  I could slap myself right now for thinking this way.

  “I’ve had some shit go down. With my parents,” he finally says, still not looking at me. “College crap. Life crap. You don’t want to hear it.”

  His words are like a slap in the face. “You don’t know what I want,” I snap. His surprised gaze meets mine. “I told you I would be there for you if you want to talk, or even if you don’t want to talk. Whatever. I will be there for you, Jordan. You just have to trust me.” I pause. “Maybe that’s the problem. You don’t trust me.”

  He stares at me, his mouth opening and closing a few times, like he’s trying to find the right words to say. But he says nothing. Just looks at me one last time…

  And then he walks away.

  My new norm is Tuttle and I not really talking to each other, unless it has to deal with school. Our group project for honors English has been reduced to us working on it on our own. I tend to write the best diary entries late at night, when I’m tired and sad and missing him. I let the emotion flow from my fingertips onto the page, curled up in bed with my laptop. We don’t even send them to each other anymore. Instead, we email them separately to Mrs. Meyer. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask us what’s going on.

  I’m thankful she leaves us alone.

  I went with Livvy to Planned Parenthood. She did a pregnancy test—negative. Got an exam, got on the pill, and now she and Ryan are, and I quote, “boinking like bunnies.”

  At least someone is getting laid.

  I had an exam too. Got a prescription for birth control and went and filled it. I’ve been dutifully taking the pills for over two weeks, which means I’m fully covered.

  I’m also still a virgin, so…that was pointless.

  I’ve been working a lot, both at Yo Town and the hydration station. School is kicking my butt. So is work—Mom always drives me and sometimes Livvy takes me or picks me up. Being at the football games with Tuttle so close, yet so distant, is killing me.

  Oh yeah. I’m back to calling him Tuttle again. I don’t want to call him Jordan. Feels too intimate, and we’re not on that level anymore. I don’t think we’ll ever be there again.

  Late at night, when I’m alone in my bed and
I can’t sleep, I think about what happened. Wonder endlessly where exactly it went wrong—where I went wrong. Did I do something? Say something stupid? Irritate him beyond belief and now he can never forgive me?

  I don’t know.

  And it’s slowly killing me.

  That last night we were together was…life-changing. He’d shared a side of himself I’d never witnessed before, and I wanted to know more. See more. Experience more. But he cut me off. Denied. That’s what it felt like. He took a stamp and punched it on my forehead.

  DENIED.

  At least Lauren Mancini isn’t flaunting their so-called relationship, because they don’t have one. She’s given up, moved on to someone else, I have no idea who. Em has been hanging around Lauren lately, along with Brianne Brown, who is still with Dustin. Now there’s a weird triangle, though I say nothing. Em and I talk a little bit, but it’s all surface. I think she’s mad at me over the entire Livvy thing, even though I’m not the one who said all that mean stuff.

  Yet I feel like I’ve let everyone down.

  It’s almost Halloween and the yearbook staff has put together a fundraiser so we can help lower the cost of our yearbooks, which is outrageous. I haven’t been able to participate much in the planning, but I am taking part in the weekend festivities. We’re hosting a haunted house at the fall carnival this Saturday at school and I’m one of the designated haunters, along with Livvy. She bought a ton of makeup at the Spirit Halloween Store and we found our costumes there too, which luckily weren’t too expensive.

  She’s come over to my house tonight—Ryan dropped her off—and we’re practicing our makeup and costumes. It’s Thursday and we knew we couldn’t get together tomorrow. I have hydration duty and she has girlfriend in the stands duty, since the boys are playing a home game.

  Another torturous night spending time with Tuttle so he can ignore me tomorrow—I can’t freaking wait.

 

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