Just Friends

by Tiffany Pitcock

  “—and birthdays mean growing older, which is akin to piracy in Neverland,” Jenny finished for him.

  He smiled ruefully. “Yeah, that’s right. See that big fake rock that kids climb on over there?” He pointed toward the parking lot. “That was Skull Rock.”

  Jenny laughed. “Naturally.”

  “Hey, nobody said I was original. The other awning all the way at the bottom of the hill there was Blind Man’s Bluff, the creek that runs at the bottom of the hill over there was Mermaid Lagoon, and the water fountains over there were the Indian Camp.”

  “What about the swings?” Jenny asked, setting off again, kicking up some bits of rubber as she did so.

  “Hangman’s Tree, of course, the hideout of the Lost Boys,” Chance answered as if it were obvious.

  “You sound like you were quite the imaginative little boy.”

  “You should know—you were there.” At least, he wanted her to have been. Maybe his games wouldn’t have been so sad if he’d had Jenny to share them with. Instead of a lonely little boy running around, playing Peter Pan to ignore that his parents had forgotten him, he could’ve just been playing. Peter Pan needed a Wendy. Chance needed Jenny.

  “Was I?” Jenny asked, playing along. “What was my role in all of this?”

  “You were a Lost Girl, of course.” He thought about that for a moment, before adding: “Not in the Alan Moore way, either.”

  “Was I bossy?” she asked.

  “The bossiest.”

  “What did we do on these adventures?”

  He pushed up, swinging a little higher. “We rescued princesses, of course.”

  “Oh, naturally.” She sped up, her swing matching his. He looked over just in time to catch her brown hair trailing behind her as she rose.

  “Did I participate in the rescuing?”

  “You were the best at it,” he told her. “I always got distracted by the pirates. You were the one who came up with the rescuing plans.”

  “I like this story,” she replied. “I can picture it all so clearly.”

  Good, he thought, so can I.

  They swung for another thirty minutes or so, talking of whatever popped into their minds. Eventually Chance’s legs grew tired and he decided to stand up and push Jenny’s swing instead.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she told him as he pushed her forward.

  “It’s fine. My legs needed a rest, anyway.”

  “I didn’t play any games like that as a kid,” she told him. “Like Neverland, I mean.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t like to go outside much. I mostly followed my mom around, pretending to do all the big-girl chores.”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “I liked it. It made me feel like I was doing something productive.”

  It must’ve been nice, growing up in a home where she could do stuff like that, Chance thought. If he had tried that, his mother would’ve yelled at him for always being in the way and doing everything wrong.

  Her phone went off then, startling them both. She stomped her feet frantically, trying to stop her swing. Chance reached out to grab the chains, steadying her as she pried her phone from her pocket.

  “Hello?” she said. “Oh, hi, Mom. No, I’m at the park across from the school. I thought you’d still be at work. I can be home soon.” She looked over her shoulder at Chance, her expression apologetic. “It’s no problem. See you soon. Love you.”

  Chance let go of the chains, already turning to pick his backpack up off the ground. “I take it that we have to go?”

  “Yeah,” Jenny said, getting to her feet and grabbing her backpack. “My little sister, Jessa, was running a bit of a fever so Mom came home from work early. She wants me to come watch Jessa so she can cook dinner.”

  So Jenny wasn’t an only child? Interesting.

  Chance’s Charger was still parked by the library, where he’d left it that morning. The black paint shone in the afternoon sun. Unfortunately, so did all the dirt clinging to it. I should really get that washed.

  “I guess you’ve never been in my car before, huh?” Chance said as Jenny eyed it skeptically. He was wary of people judging his baby.

  She circled it, scrutinizing it as she did so. “Of course I have,” she said after she reached the passenger’s side again. “I helped you pick it out.”

  Now it was her turn to make up a story. Chance unlocked the door, slipping into the driver’s seat. “You did?” he asked after she climbed in.

  “Mm-hm.” She nodded. “You were unsure about it, you see, because it’s so run-down with its ripped seats and messy floorboards. I was the one who convinced you it had character.” She reached into her front pocket, producing a small tube of lip gloss. She flipped down the front visor so she could use the mirror. Chance watched as she applied the gloss—some cherry-red flavor, by the strong smell of it. She pursed her lips once before leaning up and pressing her lips to the mirror. She pulled back, revealing a single perfect kiss mark. “I marked my territory, see?”

  Damn. Jenny definitely knew how to play the game.

  Chance’s eyes lingered on the kiss mark. “As my oldest friend, you always get shotgun.”

  She nodded, slipping the lip gloss back into her pocket. “Now everybody knows that.”

  He had to admit, the sight of her kissing that mirror made his heart hammer. He wasn’t even sure why. For one, he had done a lot more than kiss other girls in that car. And yet none of them had gotten his heart going like Jenny and that mirror had.

  Maybe it was because, in the back of his mind, he knew that this was the start of something bigger than those other things. That kiss mark wasn’t a hasty hookup in the backseat of a car; it was precise—it was planned. It was, well, kinda permanent. Many people would pass in and out of that car, but that lip print would stay.

  Jenny would stay.

  CHAPTER 5

  Jenny

  “Plum or Black Cherry?”

  Jenny looked up from her perch on her mother’s bed, surveying the two shades of lipstick that her mother held. “Black Cherry,” she said at last.

  This was weird. Even Jenny had to admit that this was weird. She’d only found out a week ago that her mother was dating, and now she was helping her pick out a lipstick color. She wasn’t supposed to be helping her mother get ready for a date. This wasn’t daughter territory. Jenny decided to grin and bear it, though, because that’s what a good daughter would do.

  Her mother stood at the foot of her bed, leaning down to check out her reflection in her vanity mirror. She had chosen a simple black A-line dress with thick straps and a pair of shiny black kitten heels. Jenny thought she looked great. She also knew that Phillip would think so, too. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but her mother’s happy glow was undeniable. She hadn’t looked this excited since she told Jenny and Jack about being pregnant with Jessa.

  “You look great, Mom,” Jenny told her, watching as she smoothed her hair down for the fiftieth time.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Do you want to ask Jackie?”

  Her mother paused. “Wouldn’t that be a little awkward?”

  This is all a little awkward, Jenny thought. “I suppose.”

  Her mother checked her watch, and Jenny couldn’t help but notice it was not the one she usually wore. She usually wore a small silver one that Jenny’s father had gotten her for their last anniversary together. Now she was sporting a sleek gold one. “Oh, he’ll be here any second.”

  Wasn’t Jenny supposed to be the one excitedly going on dates and her mother the one helping her get ready? I mean, I never go on dates, but still.

  “Where are you going, again?” Jenny asked, following her mother from the room.

  Jenny’s mother was in such a hurry that she was already nearly down the stairs. “Red Lobster!” she called over her shoulder.

  “Swanky,” Jenny mumbled. Then, a little louder
, “That sounds fun, Mom.”

  “You’ll be fine watching Jack and Jessa?” her mother asked, breezing right through the living room and into the kitchen. Jenny had to practically jog to keep up. “Yes, Mom, I can watch two children. I am capable of that.”

  “Toddlers are hard work,” her mother warned.

  “I know that. I’ll be fine. You just focus on having fun.”

  Her mother still looked doubtful. “I left money for pizza on the counter, and you have my cell—”

  “Mom, this isn’t some babysitting movie, okay? This isn’t Sleepover—nothing is going to happen.”

  “It’s not Sleepover I’m worried about, it’s Scream.”

  Jenny sighed. “If the call is coming from inside the house, then I will get us out of the house.”

  Jenny’s mother rolled her eyes. “I can’t deal with your smart-assed remarks right now, Jennifer.”

  “Sorry, I’ll behave.”

  Her mother grabbed her purse from the barstool and started digging. “I left a little more cash—for emergencies only—in my room. You can call me if you need it, and I’ll tell you where it is.”

  “You could just hand it to me,” Jenny pointed out.

  “Oh, sure, then I’ll have to worry about Can’t Hardly Wait. No, thank you.”

  As if I know enough people to invite to a party. Jenny checked the clock above the microwave. “It’s ten till,” she said.

  “I know the time,” her mother answered, pulling her planner from her purse and setting it aside. “Why do I keep so much junk in here?”

  “Oh, Mom, can I ask you something?” She might as well strike while her mother was happy and distracted.

  “Sure, honey.”

  “A friend of mine asked to hang out after school tomorrow. Can I go?” Don’t ask who. Don’t ask who. Don’t ask who.

  “A friend?” Her mother paused, thinking. “Is it Kelsey? You haven’t hung out with her in a while.”

  Dammit. “No, um, actually it’s a new friend.”

  Her mother turned to look at her skeptically. “A new friend?”

  “His name is Chance.”

  Her mother’s eyes were practically the size of saucers. “His name? A boy? You’re asking to hang out with a boy?”

  “Well, yes, he is biologically male.” Jenny knew her mother would react this way.

  “You never hang out with boys,” her mom went on, like an alley cat with a scrap of food. “Is this one special?”

  “We’re only friends, Mother.”

  Her mom waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, sure.”

  “Really. It’s not like that. We don’t even know each other.”

  “That’s what I used to tell my mom, too, back when I was a teenager.”

  The doorbell rang then, and Jenny sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. “Go, Mom. Go on your own date.” She got up, grabbing her mother by the elbow and shepherding her toward the door. “Be back at a reasonable hour, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and most important: Have fun.” And stop asking me about boys.

  Jenny’s mom yanked her arm away, looking down at her daughter. “Don’t think that this conversation is over just because Phillip is here. I want to hear all about this boy when I come home.”

  But the conversation was over, and they both knew it. Her mother’s mind emptied completely the moment she opened the door and saw Phillip. Jenny hadn’t been expecting to meet him. Not so soon, at least. She hadn’t even brushed her hair or changed from the clothes she’d worn to school. She’d assumed he’d wait in the car, but there he was in front of her, filling the doorway.

  Phillip was there; he was real. Of course, Jenny had known he was a real person, but he wasn’t quite real to her until that moment. That was the moment she saw him for the first time—the moment he became so much more than a concept of a person. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a farmer’s tan. He wore a light-blue button-down shirt, with the sleeves pushed up, and dress pants. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a kind face.

  He also couldn’t take his eyes off Jenny’s mother, and Jenny liked what she saw there. Phillip looked at her mother like she hung the moon. Jenny made up her mind right then and there that she had to like him, for her mother’s sake.

  “Hello there,” Phillip said, reaching his hand out to Jenny.

  Jenny took it. “Hi.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice deep. “I’m Phillip.”

  “I’m so glad you clarified, dear, or she would’ve confused you with the dozens of other men I bring home,” her mother joked, reaching out to lay a hand on Phillip’s arm. Jenny’s gaze zeroed in on that hand, on that display of casual contact. How could her mother do that so easily?

  Is my mom a better flirt than me? Jenny wondered, before realizing how bizarre that thought was.

  “We should probably get going,” her mom said.

  “Have her back at a reasonable time,” Jenny joked to cover up her awkwardness. “Her curfew is midnight.”

  Phillip laughed, full and loud. “I’ll try.”

  After her mother and Phillip left, Jenny parked herself on the couch, her English book in her lap. She was halfway through reading the introduction to Mark Twain when Jack came bounding downstairs, his laptop in his hands.

  “Mom says you’re not allowed on the computer until after you dust,” she told him as he sat next to her on the couch. He ignored her, opening his laptop and browsing away. “Jackie, listen to me. Your fandom debates can wait. The three inches of dust on the bookshelf can’t.”

  “I’ll do it later.” He barely even looked up from his keyboard, where his fingers were flying away.

  “But Mom said—”

  “Mom’s not here right now,” he reminded her. “She’s on a date.”

  “I’m aware of that, but she said—”

  Jack looked up at her then, a wicked glint in his eye. “Why aren’t you on a date, Jenny?”

  Jenny froze for a moment, ears turning pink, unsure how to come back from that burn. Finally she spoke. “What about you? Have you talked to that girl you like yet? What was her name … April Rosenbaum?” She grabbed her phone, opening the Facebook app. “How would you like it if your big sister sent her a message asking her out for you?”

  Jack was out of his seat in seconds. “I’ll dust!” he cried, running to the supply closet. “You win, I’ll dust!”

  Jenny tossed her phone back onto the couch, smirking as she returned to her reading.

  * * *

  JENNY WAITED FOR Chance after school. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to meet him at his car or what, so she decided to meet him in the general area around his car. Why couldn’t people ever give step-by-step instructions? Things would be so much easier then.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was a text from her mother. Pick up paper towels while you’re out.

  Great. As if she wasn’t already worried about being boring, now she had to get Chance to run errands.

  She had started pacing by the time she spotted Chance emerging from the English hall. She was about to call to him when she noticed that he wasn’t alone. He was with Samantha Havens, a girl from their grade. Jenny had had a few classes with her their freshman year. Jenny ducked behind a mud-covered truck, almost on reflex. She peeked around, trying to watch them.

  “… I heard that last semester Mrs. Princeton went crazy with favoritism,” Samantha was saying. “She actually got down on her knees beside Amy Lyle’s desk to tell her that it was an honor to read her research paper. Like, in front of the whole class.”

  “I can tell she plays favorites,” Chance replied, fishing his car keys out of his pocket. He looked good in the afternoon sun; it brought out the highlights in his hair. “I can’t stand those corny jokes she makes.”

  Samantha laughed, reaching out to place a hand on Chance’s upper arm. Jenny felt something unpleasant run through her at the sight. Don’t touch him, she wanted to say.

  “Oh God, when
she read the prologue to Canterbury Tales to us in old English. That was ridiculous. I mean, hello, it’s American Lit.”

  “She wanted to show off.” Chance shrugged off her hand, turning to unlock his car. “I’m not looking forward to working on that research paper. I mean, what even is an annotated bibliography, and why are we only learning about it now?”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’m the one who’s going to fail.”

  Chance turned to look at her, a slight smile at his lips. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, Samantha. I was in your class last year. I remember how you schooled the rest of the class when you recited that speech from Julius Caesar. Everyone else was struggling to remember even one line, and you knew them all.”

  “I wasn’t that good,” Samantha said sheepishly, looking down at her feet.

  Chance playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “Oh, c’mon, yes you were. I only memorized the first few lines and then skipped to the end of my speech. You, on the other hand, were amazing.”

  “Do you want to go out sometime?” Samantha asked bluntly, looking up.

  Neither Chance nor Jenny had expected that. “What?” Chance asked, surprised.

  “You and me, and my parents’ hot tub.” Jenny could tell that Samantha was standing so her chest stuck out, but she doubted Chance caught that. “Possibly this weekend?”

  “Sure,” Chance said, scratching the back of his neck. “That would be fun.”

  “Awesome!” The girl lit up, even jumping a bit in excitement. “Here’s my number.” She listed off her digits for Chance to copy into his phone. “We can shoot for Saturday, maybe?”

  “Sure, Samantha,” Chance responded distractedly. His eyes were already flickering around the parking lot, looking for something.

  Looking for you, a voice in the back of Jenny’s head whispered.

  Samantha trounced off happily, a bit of a skip in her step. Jenny waited until she was out of sight before stepping out from behind the truck.

  Wow. Is it always like this? she wondered. Did people just throw themselves at him while he nonchalantly accepted? Was this what dating looked like?

  She found that she didn’t like it much. She thought of Samantha sitting in the passenger’s seat of Chance’s car, pulling down the visor and scrubbing away Jenny’s lip print so that she could leave her own.