Saving It

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Saving It Page 9

by Monica Murphy

I really am talking about him.

  Chapter Eight

  Eden

  “So…” I’m at work, folding a pile of bright pink sweatshirts that are hideous and will probably sell like crazy. I opened the store today by myself with Matilda coming in a little later, and I’m scheduled till three, so that’s not too bad. Molly and I never really talked about last night, so she stopped by with coffee from Java Hutt and promised conversation.

  “So.” The mysterious smile curving Molly’s lips just before she takes a sip of her mocha tells me she has something promising to say, which is a good thing because I’ve got nothing.

  Well, that’s sort of a lie. I could tell her about my conversation with Josh last night and how weird it got with all the sex stuff. But then she’d start asking me questions, and I might end up confessing my…yearning for Josh. Which isn’t a real thing, but I’m toying with the possibility, and that’s something I’ve never done before.

  Like ever.

  If I told her I might like Josh as more than a friend, she’d tell me I was crazy for even considering something with him. It’s probably best to keep my mouth shut. Though maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have my one best friend tell me I’m insane for wanting more with my other best friend…

  “What happened between you and the college guy last night?” I ask, desperate to push all the Josh thoughts out of my brain. On the ride home last night, none of us talked much. It was like we were all too inside our own heads, which is kind of weird. The four of us are pretty talkative people.

  “Nothing much.” Molly shrugs, her gaze landing on the pile of ugly sweatshirts. “Those are awful.”

  “Tell me about it.” I stop folding and focus all my attention on her. “Come on. Spill.”

  Molly rolls her eyes and starts to follow me over to the register counter. “I talked to that one guy for most of the night.”

  I slide behind the counter so I can face her. “And his name again?”

  “Kirk.” Molly giggles. “Ridiculous, right?”

  “Sort of.” I don’t want to tell her how Josh thought he was totally rude and that the gold chain he wore was super cheesy. “But is he nice? And cute?”

  “The answer is yes to both. He’s very muscular. Nice bulky arms. Told me he plays baseball.”

  “Sporty?” I raise a brow. “That’s not your usual type, Mol.”

  “I have no type, and you know it. I will take pretty much whatever I can get. I don’t want to sound desperate but—I’m desperate.” She starts laughing, and I do, too. “He did ask me for my phone number. And we added each other on Snapchat.”

  “Aw, see. I told you that was going to happen.”

  “Whatever.” Molly waves a dismissive hand, but she’s still smiling. “He hinted at taking me out sometime. Let’s see if he follows through.”

  “That would be awesome if he did. I can see it now, you forgetting all about us since you’re going out with the hot college guy.” I mean every word. I want Molly to find a guy she’s happy with, one who’s totally in to her. She’s never really had a boyfriend before. Plenty of crushes that always caused a lot of confusion and Molly ended up with a broken heart.

  “Don’t jump ahead of yourself,” Molly warns with a tiny smile.

  “But what about Abraham?” I still can’t believe she told me she liked him yesterday. I never even had a clue. This Thanksgiving break has been full of craziness, and it’s hardly started.

  “I don’t know what to think about Abraham.” Molly sighs and shakes her head. “He virtually ignored me last night, after he told me I was looking good or that I was sexy or whatever. Then he hooks up with that one chick, which was sort of gross. You know he had sex with her.”

  “I know,” I agree with a mock shudder. It was very obvious Abraham had been up to no good last night, not that I’m judging. He can do whatever he wants, as long as he’s not chasing after me. That just complicates things and makes it weird. “I didn’t expect him to do that.”

  “Me, either.”

  “Supposedly it meant nothing, though. I heard them talking.” Right, one person did end up talking a lot on the drive home last night, and that person was Abraham. He went on and on about his one-night stand. His fling. His hookup. His one and done.

  When he made that last remark, Josh corrected him.

  “Technically—and according to you—you and Nicole have been together twice. So she’s definitely not a one and done,” Josh had pointed out.

  That remark sort of pissed Abraham off. Heaven forbid he’s with the same girl twice. It’s almost like he has sincere player aspirations.

  “What about Josh?” Molly asks me, knocking me from my thoughts.

  My heart starts to pound, and I remind myself to act normal. “What about him?”

  “He told me he has a date with Taylyr this afternoon.”

  Oh. Taylyr. God, I hate even thinking about her, and not for the reasons you’d assume. My biggest problem is the way she spells her name. Who uses two y’s like that? It looks wrong. I’m being totally petty, right? But I can’t help myself. She spells her name in the dumbest way possible.

  “They’re meeting for lunch.” I try to sound nonchalant.

  Molly raises her brows. “Lunch? How grown up of them.”

  “We’re off school, it’s the perfect time to go to lunch, right? Doesn’t scream too serious, yet it’s still officially a date,” I explain.

  “Oh, I get it. The thing is I didn’t realize those two were interested in each other.”

  “You didn’t?” Oh, yeah. Molly doesn’t know Josh’s plan. I’m not allowed to tell her, either, which is slowly killing me. “They make sense as a couple, don’t you think?”

  “I guess. They’re both athletic. Both driven. She’s his usual type.”

  Uh huh. And I’m not his type. Not even close. Though I guess you could say he’s not my type, either, because he’s not. Not really.

  “Do you like her?” Molly asks me.

  “She’s okay,” I answer.

  “Really.”

  Uh-oh. “Why do you say ‘really’ like that?”

  “Like what?” Molly’s face is pure innocence.

  “Like that.” I point at her. “Come on. Out with it.”

  Molly sighs, sagging against the counter. “I don’t like her.”

  “Why not?” I’m surprised. Molly usually likes everyone. Of the two of us, she’s the nice one. I’m the mean one. Not that I’m mean, but compared to sweet Molly, I’m a horrible, hateful person.

  “She’s always been bitchy toward me. Like blatantly rude, when I haven’t done anything to her.”

  “Really? She’s always been okay toward me.”

  “I had chemistry with her last year, and we were assigned partners. Do you remember?” When I shake my head, she continues. “That was rough. I basically carried the workload the entire year, and when our grade was kind of crap on some of the experiments, she’d flip out and ask me where I went wrong. But she never actually contributed anything.”

  Ugh. “She sounds like a terrible partner.”

  “More like I think she’s a terrible person.”

  “Huh.” I’m quiet for a moment, my mind racing. “Do you think I should warn Josh?”

  “Warn Josh about what?”

  “That Taylyr is a terrible person.” Well, she’s a terrible person when it comes to school. Maybe she’s okay otherwise?

  Doubtful, but I can hope.

  “Oh, I don’t know. He’ll figure it out eventually, right?” Leave it to Molly to let Josh figure out if Taylyr’s nice or not, on his own.

  “Do you really think she’s that bad?”

  “Yeah, actually I do. She’s not a nice person, Eden. She thinks she’s all that because she’s sporty, and fine, I’ll give her that. She’s a great athlete. But she’s also rude and likes to talk about herself all the time. She doesn’t know how to be a genuine friend.”

  “Wow, tell me how you really feel,” I tease her, but al
l I get is a dirty look in return.

  “I’m being serious. She’s kind of—backstabby.” Molly wrinkles her nose.

  “Is that even a word?”

  “I just made it one.” Molly is glaring at me again. “She doesn’t really have any friends. Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

  I go quiet again, thinking about Taylyr. Molly’s right. She doesn’t hang out with a big group of friends. Or even a small group. I always figured she was a one-on-one type of girl, but maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe she really is backstabby and a bad friend.

  “She likes hanging out with guys, but I never see her with girls. That’s a bad sign, too,” Molly adds.

  “Are you slut shaming her, Mol?” I’m totally teasing her, but then again I’m not.

  “Of course I’m not. I’m saying that girls don’t want to be around her because she’s mean. And she is. She’s super mean and rude and arrogant. I had to deal with her all last year in chemistry, and I was miserable.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

  “I sort of did. I just never wanted to name names.” Molly shrugs when I send her a look. “What? It’s true.”

  “I even forgot she was your chemistry partner.”

  “Listen, she wasn’t worth complaining about, that’s why I kept my mouth shut. Why waste time thinking about her when she’s such a bitch?” Molly takes another drink of her coffee. “Josh can figure this out on his own. Either he sees her for what she truly is, or he bails as fast as he can. If he’s smart, he’ll bail before he gets in too deep.”

  Gets in too deep. Fitting words for what Josh wants to potentially do with Taylyr. Ew, but seriously.

  “She could be nicer to guys,” I point out.

  “True. But still. Why would he want to be with someone who has such an evil soul?”

  I laugh at Molly’s serious tone, but she does have a point. Josh doesn’t want to be with someone who has an evil soul. I should warn him. But not right now, before he goes on his date. I don’t want to seem like I’m jealous. I’m the one who pushed him to go for Taylyr, and now here he is going for her, and I’m backtracking.

  That’s not cool.

  “You’ll have to tell me how their date goes,” Molly says as she walks over to the trash can and pitches her empty cup inside. “I’m sure he’ll FaceTime you tonight, eager to tell you all about it.”

  “Yeah, he probably will.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of hearing all about his many dates with many girls?” This isn’t the first time Molly has asked me this question.

  “I hate it when he goes into graphic detail, but for the most part, no. I don’t mind if he tells me things.” At least he’s still willing to tell me what’s going on, instead of cutting me out. I take that as a good sign.

  “I don’t think I could take it. I overhear some of his conversations with you, and sometimes they make me want to freak out.”

  After she leaves, I think about what Molly said. Are Josh and I too familiar with each other? Have we crossed so far into the friend zone that now there’s no turning back? If that’s the case, then there’s probably no hope for us. He would only see me as a friend and that’s it.

  Wait a minute. Why the sudden change of heart on my end? Do I really look at him as more than a friend?

  No. Only lately, what with all this sex talk and finding Josh a girl. Of course, that’s going to change my perspective.

  Honestly? That’s the way I need to focus on him. He’s just a friend, and nothing else. So what if Josh is incredibly good looking and smart and attentive and fun? Just because he’s a great friend, that doesn’t mean he will be a terrific boyfriend.

  I need to remember this.

  But I can’t help but think about him for the rest of my shift. It’s continuously busy all morning and into the early afternoon, yet any free moment I have, my mind goes straight to Josh. Wondering about his date, wondering if he liked her, wondering if they went anywhere else. Has he already kissed her? Like, with tongue and wandering hands and bodies pressed close? God, what would it be like if they had sex and he ends up telling me all about it? Like every stupid, awful detail?

  I could just tell him to shut up. Yeah, that would be smart. But it’s like I can never tell Josh no, which is ridiculous.

  This entire situation is ridiculous.

  My thoughts are torturous and I regret agreeing to help him lose his virginity.

  Yeah. I’m regretting it big time.

  …

  Josh

  Taylyr texted me earlier saying I couldn’t come pick her up after all, but that she’d meet me at the restaurant instead. So I amble up to the front of the Coast Café just after noon to find Taylyr already waiting for me. She’s leaning against the side of the building, concentrating on her phone, and when I say her name, she nearly jumps a mile.

  “You scared me!” She rests a hand on her chest, looking sort of…pissed? Her eyes are narrowed, and her lips are tight. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Okay…” I say slowly, hating the doubt that’s already creeping in. So I force it out and concentrate on having a good time. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

  “You didn’t. Well, not for too long.” She shoves her phone into the pocket of her black Adidas track pants. “I’m always early.”

  That’s a good habit. Can’t hold it against her.

  She continues, “It’s like…I never want someone to beat me, know what I mean?”

  Huh. That’s…

  Weird.

  “Let’s go inside,” I tell her, and she falls into step beside me, the both of us entering the busy restaurant. It’s one of those places where you order at the counter, go find a table, and someone brings your food to you. It’s a popular café that’s been around for years, like way before I was born, and they have really great seafood.

  “What are you going to get?” I ask as we wait in line and study the menu on the wall above the registers.

  “I don’t know. I don’t really like seafood.”

  Well, shit. “Are you serious?” When she turns to look at me, I forge on. “I would’ve chosen somewhere else to go if I knew you didn’t like seafood.”

  “It’s okay. We’re surrounded by it living here, you know?” She shrugs and resumes looking at the menu board. “I think I’m gonna have a grilled cheese. But with no fries.”

  “Why no fries?”

  Taylyr wrinkles her nose. “Too fattening. I’m trying to watch my weight.”

  I surreptitiously check her out. She’s tall with broad shoulders, yet lean, though I can’t tell too much since she’s wearing a light gray Nike sweatshirt. I’m pretty sure I own the same exact one. It looks good on her. “Watch your weight?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugs. “I work out all the time, and I try to watch what I eat, too. Though a grilled cheese probably isn’t the best option.”

  There aren’t many other options on the menu if she’s watching her weight. Even the salads are loaded with some sort of seafood. Lobster salad. Shrimp Louie salad. Crab salad. “You can order a salad and say hold the lobster or whatever.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. Though I think I just want a grilled cheese.”

  That’s the end of our conversation. She pulls her phone back out and starts scrolling again, and I wait anxiously for the woman behind the counter to finish up with the family ahead of us so she can take our order. Once they’re done, I order a grilled cheese and a water for Taylyr and clam chowder in a bread bowl with seafood topping for me, plus an extra large Coke.

  Screw it. I never bother watching what I eat.

  We find a small table way in the back and make small talk. Chatting about sports and how she’s currently playing basketball, just like me. She bitches about her coach and her teammates, and I try my best to keep an interested look on my face, but she’s starting to lose me.

  It’s not that I don’t like talking about sports, because I live for that. Seriously, it’s one of my favorite sub
jects. But it’s the way Taylyr’s talking, like everything she’s saying is a complaint. There’s nothing I like better than complaining sometimes. I’m not a saint.

  But this girl is just…nonstop bitching. And it’s not cool.

  Once our lunch arrives, she smiles dutifully at the girl who’s brought our food, murmuring a thank-you as she sets the plate in front of Taylyr. Once the employee is gone, though, Taylyr is studying her sandwich like a bug just crawled out from between the bread and crapped on top of it.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask before I dive into my clam chowder. I’m starving, and it smells incredible.

  “It looks sort of burnt, don’t you think?” Taylyr points at her sandwich.

  “Looks like an even golden-brown to me,” I say, then take another bite. I seriously don’t want to sit around and criticize her sandwich. Talk about lame.

  “Huh.” She picks it up and starts eating despite her complaints. “You want to come over to my house after lunch?”

  I’m so surprised by her question I almost drop my spoon on the ground. Is she for real? “Uh, I can’t. I have practice.” Which is true. I just have it a little less than three hours from now.

  The disappointment on her face is obvious. “I was hoping I could show you my thirty-person spa.”

  “You have a thirty-person spa?” Why would she have such a huge spa? For like…orgies or whatever?

  I can’t believe my mind just went there. Though then again, I sort of can believe it. Sex is all I’ve been thinking about lately.

  Well, and Eden. I bet she wouldn’t complain about a sandwich. She’d probably make me split it with her so we could both suffer and end up laughing about it.

  “Yeah.” She nods, her eyes lighting up. “My parents got it a couple of years ago, when they remodeled the backyard. My dad is a doctor.”

  “Nice.” I knew this little fact, about her dad being a doctor. “So you’re rich.”

  “Not really.” A giggle escapes her. “Okay fine, we totally are.”

  This chick is something else.

  “Must be nice,” I tell her because I have no idea what else to say.

  “It’s pretty great actually.” She takes a sip of her water. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over and hang out in the spa?”

 

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