Just Friends

by Tiffany Pitcock

  * * *

  JENNY HAD A nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but it was two stories and white with green shutters and trim—everything a happy family should have.

  “Do you want to come in for a second?” Jenny asked excitedly.

  “But your parents are home,” he protested. Girls didn’t typically ask him in when their parents were home.

  “My mom is,” Jenny corrected offhandedly. She reached out, squeezing his forearm. “Let’s go.”

  He looked down at where their skin met, feeling warm all of a sudden. They hadn’t really touched before, had they? At least not skin to skin. “Okay,” he found himself agreeing.

  Her house looked just as cozy on the inside as it did on the outside. There was a foyer that sported a small end table and a staircase. There was a cute area rug lying in front of the bottom stairs, and a few pictures hung along the stairwell. Chance couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t a man in any of those photos. The living room, which Jenny sauntered into the moment she entered, was to the left, with a big armchair right by the entrance. Chance followed her, taking note of the long beige couch and a toy box in the corner of the room.

  “This is obviously the living room,” Jenny said. “That couch there is where I sit and marathon countless hours of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That end table next to it sports the phone that is never for me. That toy box is what my little sister, Jessa, plays with during the day.” Jenny pointed to each object, using a tour-guide voice as she explained everything.

  Next, Jenny led him into the kitchen/dining room, which was divided by a counter in the middle. Everything on the kitchen side was sleek and shiny, while the dining room held only a large wooden table. A slender woman sat at the table, an array of what looked like bills in front of her. She had long, curly brown hair like Jenny’s, but thinner. She looked up when they entered.

  “Oh, hello.”

  Jenny ignored her. “That counter is where I sit with my laptop and stare wistfully out into the backyard, wishing for the world to end. That table over there is where I occasionally stuff my face. Also, that woman sitting at it gave birth to me.”

  “Jennifer, what are you doing?” the woman asked. A small smile played at her lips. She couldn’t take her eyes off Chance. He was used to this. He was exactly the type of boy parents were wary to have in their daughters’ rooms. He wondered if she thought he had ulterior motives.

  “I’m giving Chance the tour, Mom,” Jenny answered.

  Jenny’s mother’s eyes kept flashing from him to her daughter and back again. “And would Chance like to stay for dinner? We’re ordering tacos.”

  He did want to stay. He almost agreed before he stopped himself. “I can’t—” he began, but Jenny cut him off.

  “That would be cool,” she said, turning to look at Chance hopefully. “I’ve never had a friend over for dinner before.”

  That took him aback. Never? Even he’d had at least one or two people over, when he was younger. Of course, that was when his parents were still embarrassed to fight in front of other people.

  Jenny reached out, grabbing his sleeve. “I can finish giving you the tour while Mom orders the food.”

  Before he knew what was happening, he was being swept from the room and pulled upstairs. They were only halfway up when Jenny’s mother called them back down again. There it is, Chance thought. She’s uncomfortable with me.

  “Jennifer,” she said, looking amused, as if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “Can you wake Jessa from her nap while you’re up there? Get her washed up for dinner.”

  Jenny made a face. “Can’t Jack do it?” She gestured to Chance. “I obviously have a guest.”

  Her mother just fixed her with a look.

  “Fine,” Jenny agreed. “I’ll do it, but I’m going to complain the entire time. Loudly, so it’ll drift all the way down here and you’ll have to listen to it.”

  Her mother waved her off. “And I will be doing work with my headphones in so I can’t hear you.”

  The upstairs hallway was pale blue with white trim; Chance counted five doors. “That down there is my brother Jack’s room,” Jenny explained, pointing to a door decorated with Minecraft posters. “He’s twelve and he is a nightmare.”

  “Twelve-year-old boys often are,” Chance said, remembering himself at twelve.

  The next door had pastel-yellow flowers painted on it and a scribbled drawing of a fairy taped to it. The fairy and most of the page were nothing but dark purple. “This is Jessa’s room. Jessa hasn’t learned how to color within the lines yet,” Jenny said. “She’s four.”

  “That’s my mom’s room.” She pointed to a plain white door. “That one is the bathroom. It’s not too bad; there’s one downstairs, too, so at least I don’t always have to share with Jack.”

  There was only one room left, with a plain white door just like her mother’s. The only bit of decoration on it was an old medal hanging from the door handle. “Fifth-grade Quiz Bowl championship,” Jenny supplied at his questioning look. “We used to have a cat, and she’d sneak in my room at night. I started hanging the medal there so I’d hear her come in.” Sure enough, it clanked against the door as she pushed it open.

  “You have a cat?” Chance asked, looking around.

  Jenny’s look soured. “We used to. Dad took her when he moved. She was technically his, anyway.”

  Jenny’s room was simple, with peach walls and very few posters. There was a white bookshelf in the corner by the window, its shelves sagging under the weight of all the books she had piled on it. She had a white desk with a vanity mirror over it on one side of the room and a twin-sized bed on the other. The bed had a white-painted metal frame that twisted up into an elaborate headboard and footboard, with posts at the corners. The paint was peeling off in places, revealing the metal underneath.

  “What do you think?” Jenny asked nervously, gesturing around.

  Chance looked from her to the headboard and back again. “You have a princess bed,” he said, amused.

  “I do not,” Jenny said, moving to stand next to him. She gestured to the bed. “If I had a princess bed, then I would have a canopy. Which, trust me, I begged for.”

  The room was Jenny. The room was nights spent studying and days spent reading. The room was the way she bit her lip and the snort that escaped when she laughed too hard. The room was another little thing, another step he’d taken in getting to know her.

  “Jennifer!” her mother called up the stairs. “I don’t hear any complaining, and dinner will be here soon! Jessa isn’t going to get herself up!”

  Jenny moved toward the door. “We should go,” she said.

  Jessa’s room was dark but she wasn’t asleep. She sat in the middle of her floor in a fairy costume, scribbling away in her coloring book.

  “Jessa, honey, it’s time for dinner,” Jenny said in a soothing voice, approaching the girl with caution.

  The little girl looked at her older sister and stuck out her tongue. “No!”

  “Come on, I know you’re hungry.” Jenny reached for her, but the girl was too quick. She was up and running around her sister before Jenny had time to move. “Come back here. We have to wash your hands.”

  The little girl ran faster and crashed into Chance, who she hadn’t seen in the dark room, and fell backward onto the floor.

  Both Jenny and Chance held their breath, waiting for her to cry. But it didn’t happen. Instead the little girl looked up at Chance, her eyes the same green as her sister’s, and pointed one pudgy finger at his face, yelling, “Pwetty!”

  Chance looked down at her, confused. “What is she saying?” he asked Jenny, but Jenny was doubled over laughing as Jessa kept pointing and shouting, “Pwetty!” over and over.

  Finally, the little girl thrust both her arms in the air, exclaiming, “Up!”

  “What do I do?” Chance asked frantically.

  “She wants you to pick her up,” Jenny managed between giggles.


  “But I don’t want to!”

  “You don’t have a choice in the matter, Chance.”

  Jenny was still laughing about the incident as they made their way downstairs, Chance carrying Jessa on his hip. She had her chubby arms wrapped around his neck. Jenny’s mother was already at the table, a box of tacos in front of her and a brown-haired boy sitting beside her. Both their mouths dropped open at the sight of the three on the stairs.

  “But Jessa never likes anybody!” Jenny’s mom exclaimed, rushing over to take her daughter from Chance. “I can’t believe this,” she added as Jessa strained to go back to Chance, once again exclaiming, “Pwetty!”

  The place was chaotic and loud, as Jessa perched on her booster seat and Chance took a seat across from Jack. Jenny sat between Chance and her mother. They kept the conversation light, and jokes were shared often. Chance felt odd as he helped himself to a second taco, watching the family around him. He had never had this warmth. He had never sat at the table and eaten with his family. His parents ate in their room or the living room, while they made the kids eat at the table. He didn’t know families actually had dinners like this, where parents asked about the kids’ day and genuinely seemed to care. They included him, too. Her mother asked him about himself, seeming interested in his answers. Jessa kept getting his attention by throwing handfuls of hamburger meat across the table, and Jack didn’t seem to totally hate him.

  He wanted this. He wanted this scene—Jenny’s mom scrubbing sauce from Jessa’s face as Jenny laughed loudly and freely at something her brother had said—etched into his memory always. Maybe he could pull it out and think about it when he faced the coldness back home.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jenny

  Jenny had never felt this excited before. She was practically bouncing in her seat as Chance drove them out of town. She watched as the blur of houses out the car window slowly became a blur of fields, all blending together. She reached out to the radio, switching it on. She wanted a soundtrack for this.

  “You can change the station, if you want,” Chance told her. He had his window down, and the wind was blowing his blond hair everywhere. For a second, Jenny considered reaching out and running her hands through it. She had a feeling it would be soft to the touch and slide smoothly through her fingers.

  “This is fine,” she told him, turning back toward the window.

  She, Jenny Wessler, perfect girl and daughter, was going to drink tonight. Not only that, but she had lied to her mother about going to drink tonight. She had stood in front of her mother, wearing her favorite pink tank top and cutoff shorts, and told her that she was spending the night at Kelsey’s. She had walked out the door, smiling wide, pretending to walk to Kelsey’s, while really going down the street to meet Chance. She was going to drink, she had lied to her mother, and she was spending the night with a boy. It was just Chance, but still.

  If this was what teenage rebellion felt like, then it felt fucking fantastic.

  She wasn’t even nervous about spending the night with Chance. Things had been great since she showed him her house. That had marked the turning point for her. She was able to successfully blend their school relationship and her home life. He had stood in her house and met her family, and had become part of her world. She could easily envision him there now, always coming over after school for snacks or Buffy. It had been so easy to lock the two worlds together. Why had she been so scared?

  If life were a teen movie, then this would be the scene where everything changed. They turned down the narrow road that led to Their Spot, and Jenny could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She could hear the random assortment of beer bottles clanking in the back as the car bobbed and weaved down the road.

  “You seem happy,” Chance remarked, sounding amused.

  “I’m excited!” she told him happily. It was like her nerve endings were all on fire with anticipation. “I guess it seems stupid, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “It’s cute,” he told her, smiling. “I’m glad you’re excited.”

  Chance pulled up to the barn then, big and imposing in the setting sun. It looked just as interesting as it had the first time he showed it to her. Jenny had been wary at first because, y’know, it was a big barn in the middle of nowhere. That had changed when she stepped inside, though. It had character. People on TV shows always had strange places they hung out—tree houses, laundromats, hotel lobbies—and Jenny realized that this could be that place for her and Chance. She could have all the quirks she’d always wanted. When she looked at the barn, she saw possibility, and it was amazing.

  She hoped that Chance saw it, too.

  Chance leaned over his seat, digging in the back. He pulled a beer out of the plastic bag he had put them in, presenting it to her with a flourish. “For you,” he said.

  She took the thing, the glass cold against her skin. It was already covered in condensation. The bottle felt slippery in her hands. “How did you get this, again?” she asked.

  Chance smiled mysteriously. “I have my ways.”

  She leveled him with a look.

  “Fine, Drake’s bandmate Nick is old enough. I got him to buy us some.”

  “Why did we need beer anyway?” she asked, looking down at the bottle cap. Was it a twist top? She didn’t want to embarrass herself trying to twist it off if it wasn’t. “I thought there was vodka in the barn.”

  “There is,” he told her. “I thought we should go easy this time. We can always hit the hard liquor another time.”

  He took the bottle from her, popping the top off before handing it back to her. She grabbed it by the neck, but it was so slippery with condensation that it slipped right through her grip and crashed to the floorboard with a hearty thud.

  “Shit!” Jenny exclaimed as the cold liquid splashed over her Converse, soaking them through. She hastily picked up the bottle, embarrassed. She was pretty sure her face was the color of cherry tomatoes at the moment. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, shoving the bottle into the cup holder. She drew some napkins out of her purse and began blotting at the spill. She could already see the slightly darker stain setting into his floor mat.

  I was doing so well, too, she thought sadly.

  Chance, to her surprise, burst out laughing. It wasn’t a slight, polite laugh, either, but a big, hearty guffaw. He didn’t even look concerned that she had just stained his car. All he did was throw his head back and laugh.

  “You don’t have to laugh at me,” Jenny said defensively. She was still trying to blot out the stain.

  “I’m sorry,” Chance said, but he kept laughing. “You looked so utterly upset when that beer fell. It was hilarious.”

  “I’m glad my mistakes amuse you” was her sarcastic reply.

  “Jenny,” he said, reaching out to pull her up. His hand felt strong wrapped around her upper arm. “I don’t care if it stains.”

  “Really?”

  “Look at this car, it’s a mess.” He looked down at the setting stain. “Besides, doesn’t it just give it more character?”

  She had a sneaking suspicion that he had used her buzzword on purpose, but she smiled anyway. “I guess” was all she said.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They had packed as many light sources as they could. Between them, they had two battery-operated lanterns, three flashlights, five touch lights, a bunch of candles, and a bag full of glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars. They each set to work spreading the lights out as much as they could over the floor of the barn, making sure none of the candles touched the scattered hay. The last rays of the sunset poured in through the gaps in the roof, casting an orange-red glow over them as they worked.

  Next, they unpacked their sleeping bags. They had packed as many blankets and pillows as they could without seeming suspicious. They built a giant pallet by the wooden table, trying to make it as comfortable as possible. Jenny walked around, throwing handfuls of the glow-in-the-dark stars like a flower gir
l walking down the aisle.

  “You ready to try again?” Chance asked, setting the beer-filled bag onto the table with a clank. He pulled out another bottle and opened it for her. She realized in that moment, as he reached out offering her the bottle, that there was no one else she would rather be with. The growing moonlight was spilling in and fell right on him, reflecting off the bottle he held out. She took it from him, her fingers accidentally brushing his.

  He watched her expectantly as she took her first sip and seemed amused when she blanched. It was bitter, and she couldn’t hide her disgust.

  “I thought beer was supposed to be good?” she asked, looking down at the bottle in her hand as if it had slaughtered her family.

  “Expensive beer is,” he corrected her. “That in your hand is cheap beer. Or, as I affectionately call it, Shit Beer.”

  “I think I’d rather try the vodka.”

  “It tastes even worse,” he warned her.

  “If alcohol is so gross, then why do people even drink?” And yet she took another disgusting sip.

  “The more you drink, the better it tastes.”

  Another sip. “I’m going to have to drink a lot, then.”

  “Don’t overdo it,” he told her. “You’ll get sick.”

  She walked over to the trunk as he opened himself a bottle. She took out the pirate hat and put it on. She loved the stupid thing. It made her so happy that Chance embraced it. She turned back to face him, gesturing to the hat. “Guess what time it is?”

  “Adventure time?”

  “Guess again.”

  He plopped onto the floor, taking a long swig from his beer. “Share Time?”

  She giddily rushed to the pallet, sitting cross-legged in front of him. “Correct.” She took another sip.

  “You go first,” he said.

  She bit her lip as she thought of what to say. She didn’t want to admit anything too personal right off the bat. They had to ease into that.

  “When I was little, I used to get in trouble on purpose so that I was forced to sit out at recess and read in the classroom.”