Just Friends

by Tiffany Pitcock

  Okay, now that is uncomfortable.

  Chance cleared his throat. “I’ll just go to my room.”

  Levi sheepishly stepped away from his girlfriend. “Sorry about that, bro. I’ll rein in my raging hormones while you’re present. Now come and meet my girlfriend, Anna.”

  “How was school?” Anna asked.

  “It sucked,” Chance told her. He wasn’t trying to be difficult, at least not with Anna. She didn’t deserve his angst.

  “High school always sucks,” she said, walking toward the kitchen counter. “Why did today in particular suck?”

  “My best friend’s douche ex wrote a song about her.”

  “Shit,” Anna said. “I was not expecting that. I was expecting, like, a bad test or something. I can help with tests. I can’t help with douchebags writing songs.”

  “He hasn’t even mentioned the best part,” Levi told her. “The best friend? Yeah, he’s in lo—”

  “Levi,” Chance warned.

  “Well, you are,” Levi said. “The sooner you admit it to yourself and everyone else, the sooner you can make your move.”

  Chance groaned. “For the last time, I’m not making a move. Besides, I don’t even know what move to make.”

  “Kick the ex’s ass, duh,” Levi said, as if it were obvious.

  “Don’t do that,” Anna said quickly. “Definitely do not do that.”

  Levi went on, “You have to make your move. It’s what comes next. What you do next is very important, so it has to count. Listen to my sage advice and kick his ass.”

  “Your advice is not sage, Levi. You just like to hear yourself talk.” His brother’s advice was always “Go for it.” Chance couldn’t use that. He couldn’t go for it when there was nothing to go for. Everything was pretty simple: Stay friends with Jenny, or make a move and lose her. Only one option kept her in his life.

  “That’s how these stories go.” Levi ran a hand through his unruly hair. “This is the only path.”

  Chance stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Everything doesn’t fit nicely into your tropes.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “You should listen to him—about the girl, anyway, not the punching. He’s weirdly clairvoyant about these types of things,” Anna confirmed.

  “See,” Levi said triumphantly. “Anna agrees with me.”

  “She’s your girlfriend. She has to.”

  “Not true,” Anna assured him.

  “Really not true,” Levi added. He stepped away from her, returning to the kitchen to pour veggie broth into the pan. “Why don’t you two set the table while I finish cooking?”

  Chance didn’t want to, but he decided Jenny had been right—it was better to do this all now and get it over with.

  “I don’t mind,” Anna said, walking over to check on what Levi was doing. “What do you say, Chance, show me where everything is?”

  “Sure,” Chance said.

  “Look at you two, getting along already.” Levi wrapped his arms around Anna’s waist, resting his head in the crook of her neck. They were happy in the way his parents never were. They were probably the first happy couple to ever be in that house.

  It’s weird to see that peace in this house of horrors, Chance thought as he retrieved the plates from the cabinet.

  He didn’t know what to do with a happy relationship. He had never been around one before. Relationships were made up of yelling and screaming, throwing fits and furniture. That was all he had ever known, and yet Levi had found some way to circumvent that.

  Chance tried to pry his eyes from the scene in front of him. It made his insides churn to see his brother so at ease and connected—so content in the moment.

  Anna took the plates from him. “So you have girl trouble, huh?”

  “You could say that,” Levi snorted from the kitchen.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be busy right now? Isn’t this the time for me to talk to your brother?” Anna called out, not even looking over at her boyfriend.

  “It’s nothing,” Chance told her. “How did you and my brother meet?” That was an innocent question, right?

  “Freshman seminar,” she said. “He sat in front of me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hair.”

  “Women do love the hair,” Levi said wistfully.

  “He’s going to keep doing that,” Chance told her. “He’s never been able to butt out of a conversation.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know. That’s how we met. He kept turning around to talk to me and my partner.”

  Chance could easily picture that.

  “I’ll be right back, guys; don’t go talking behind my back,” Levi told them as he set his spoon down and disappeared toward his room.

  The silence was heavy. Anna fiddled with the silverware.

  Chance looked down at his feet. “What has Levi told you about me?” he asked quietly.

  Anna didn’t look up, clearly uncomfortable. Chance knew what she was going to say: His brother hadn’t mentioned anything more than the fact he had a younger brother.

  That’s because it’s all he knows about me.

  “Look, he said that you were in high school and you guys weren’t close.” She finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “I’m surprised he brought me home at all. He doesn’t really talk about any of you.”

  “He’s always been good at adapting and moving on,” Chance replied bitterly.

  “That’s not true.” She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you talk to him about this? He has more answers than I do.”

  Levi waltzed back into the kitchen, grinning. “How are you two doing? Getting along, I hope.”

  “We’re sharing embarrassing stories about you,” Chance said, causing Anna to laugh. “I’m telling her about everything you used to do as a kid.”

  Levi cringed. “Please don’t do that.”

  Anna moved to stand by Levi, looking over his shoulder. “How’s it coming along?”

  Levi poured his vegetable mixture into a glass pan. “I think we’re ready to go.”

  “It smells good,” she told him. “It’s way better than the last thing you made.”

  “I’ve been practicing.”

  Chance got to his feet, making his way toward the couple. “How did this whole cooking thing start?”

  Levi shrugged. “No one cooks in this house. Have you ever noticed that? It didn’t really occur to me until I was on my own, but we don’t. We’re not even encouraged to do it. It was like, unknowingly, it was something we weren’t allowed to do. I started going over to Anna’s apartment, and I suddenly realized I wanted to try new things—things I hadn’t had the freedom to experience before.”

  “We’re allowed to cook,” Chance said. It was preposterous to say they weren’t. There were no rules against it.

  “Really?” Levi asked, slipping on an oven mitt. “What would happen if they were still here and you asked if you could make dinner?”

  Chance didn’t even hesitate. “They’d probably get annoyed that I was bothering them in the first place. Mom would be angry, because I threw off whatever vague dinner plans she already had for the night, and Dad would nitpick everything I did. They probably wouldn’t even eat it.”

  “So you wouldn’t do it, would you?”

  Chance shook his head, realization dawning. “Because it isn’t allowed.”

  “Exactly.” Levi spooned some food onto his plate. “I didn’t realize it either. There’s a whole world outside this house, Chance. There’s a world outside of them. It takes some getting used to,” Levi told him.

  Anna looked between the two. “Should I go?” she asked. “If you guys need time to talk about things, I can disappear for a few.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Chance said. He was finding that he quite liked having Anna near. He turned to Levi. “I still can’t believe you cook.”

  “I’m thinking about taking some classes,” Levi told him. “Maybe check out culinary school if I get good.”

&n
bsp; Culinary school? Levi was making plans again, just like before. He had an entire world locked in his head, full of choices and paths. Chance didn’t have that. He had no plans or goals. He couldn’t see beyond his own front yard. If his brother was doing so well on his own, then why even come back? It was clear that their parents, and even Chance, were holding him back, so what was the point?

  His brother pushed a plate in front of him. He looked down at the golden vegetables perfectly cooked in their broth, and his appetite died. Levi had made the right choice leaving them, he realized. There was nothing for him there in that house. He was holding Levi back.

  It’s my fault, Chance realized.

  He heard a roaring in his ears. I was the one who couldn’t stop our parents fighting. I was the one who drove them to run away. I was the reason Levi stopped calling. I was the reason Drake broke up with Jenny. Everything bad that’s been happening has been because of me. Not Levi, me.

  He pushed himself away from the table and stormed out the back door and onto the deck. He braced his hands on the railing and looked out into the backyard, hoping the fresh air would calm his racing heart.

  CHAPTER 29

  Jenny

  Jenny had been okay while Chance was there but now … now she felt alone. Truly alone. And it was actually a pretty sad feeling.

  She pulled out her phone, finger hovering over the text icon. She was going to text Chance and see how the dinner was going. She almost pushed the text icon; she swore she was going to—but the YouTube icon was calling her name.

  She pushed the big red square and typed in the name of Drake’s band. There, curled up on her couch, she watched his video again. She took in the way he stumbled onstage, screeching out his whiny lyrics. This is what he had been doing while she was waiting for her life to return to normal. Now, here, alone and away from the bustling cafeteria, she had to admit that the song was catchy. If it hadn’t been about her, she might’ve even liked it.

  She watched it three more times, watching the view number climb each time she refreshed. How hilarious would it be if the band got recognition because of this stupid video? If she, the one who never wanted to be seen, was immortalized this way?

  Ain’t that just the way?

  The silence of the house echoed around her each time the video ended. She couldn’t stay here alone, not this time. She couldn’t hide away in her house for days on end. She didn’t want to. So she didn’t.

  Kelsey picked up on the second ring. “Wessler? What’s up?”

  “We have a bake sale this afternoon, don’t we?” she said. “I was wondering if you wanted any help setting up.”

  “Oh.” Kelsey sounded surprised. “I was sort of under the impression that you weren’t coming.”

  “What, why? I promised, didn’t I?”

  “Well, after everything that happened…” Kelsey trailed off. “Don’t force yourself, okay? I know you’ve had an overwhelming day—”

  “Kelsey, I want to go. I don’t want to be cooped up in my house alone right now. Let’s go force some pretentious mommy bloggers to buy overpriced organic snacks.”

  “This doesn’t sound like you. I was expecting you to quietly withdraw from school and homeschool yourself until you graduated.”

  “Always the drama queen, aren’t we?” Jenny replied dryly, getting to her feet. “I don’t want to hide. I want to hang out with you.”

  “I am a ray of sunshine in your dark life,” Kelsey admitted smugly.

  “You’re something, all right.”

  “I’ll swing by as soon as I can.”

  Jenny hung up, smiling to herself. The silence resumed as soon as she did so, and it was as overwhelming as before. She shook it off, going upstairs to change her clothes.

  This is going to be fun, she told herself. This is what I need.

  * * *

  THE BAKE SALE looked like even more of a nightmare than Jenny had expected. It was big, for one thing, with large tables set up like a hallway and bright yellow and black tablecloths—the elementary school colors. Tons of annoyingly eager PTA moms bustled about in floral-print dresses and perfectly coiffed bobs, barking out orders at the volunteers. The worst part was that it was outside, in the school’s front yard, right square underneath the flagpole.

  “PTA moms make me so uncomfortable,” Jenny whispered to Kelsey as they faked smiles at everyone they passed. Walking on the sidewalk between the tables was like a catwalk, and every busybody was judging them. “They’re so pushy.”

  “I know, right? I have a theory that they’re made in factories, like Barbies. Mass produced, already equipped with a kid whose life they can meddle in.”

  They spotted their booth halfway down the catwalk. Kelsey’s mother, Beverly, stood behind a table with a yellow tablecloth, arranging trays of lemon bars as if she were defusing a bomb. She wore a mauve pencil skirt and a floral-print blouse buttoned up to her neck, her blond hair tumbling in waves down her back. She smiled as they walked up.

  “You’re late.”

  “We’re here now; in the end that’s all that matters.” Kelsey grinned.

  Beverly tapped her pointy-toed shoes impatiently. “Look at this.” She gestured to her table. “They gave us a yellow table.”

  “Yes, Mom, I can see that. What a horrendously nauseating shade of yellow it is.”

  Beverly waved off her daughter’s remarks. “We can’t have a yellow table. I’m selling lemon bars, for goodness’ sake!”

  Both girls looked at her as if she had lost it.

  “Lemon bars are yellow! Now we have too much yellow!” Beverly struggled to keep her voice down, her eyes darting to the booth across the sidewalk. “I know that Linda Mae assigned us this table on purpose. She was the one who took down what everyone was bringing.”

  Jenny looked over her shoulder to take in the scheming, deceitful Linda Mae. The woman looked like any other overbearing mother—her sandy hair was permed and pinned close to her head, and her outfit looked like it had walked right off a JCPenney mannequin. She had a black tablecloth, and lemonade set up in a punch bowl with fancy glasses to dip it out with. Her main attraction, though, was a big lemon cake in the middle of her table. The yellow and the black really did seem to reek of school spirit … or at least of desperation.

  “She stole my yellow-on-black idea,” Beverly continued, bringing Jenny’s attention back to her.

  “Those are the school colors, Mom,” Kelsey pointed out dryly. She pushed past her mother and settled in behind the table. “You’re not the original Bumblebee, so you can’t claim the idea.”

  Beverly put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Lord knows what I did to deserve you. I bet Jennifer here never smarts off to her mother the way you do.” But her tone was soft, teasing. They were always like this, bickering out of affection. Jenny didn’t quite understand it, but she found it endearing.

  Kelsey let out a laugh. “Love you, Mom.”

  Her mother stuck out her tongue, the first Kelsey-like act Jenny had seen her do.

  “Love you, too.” She ruffled Kelsey’s hair before heading off.

  “Hey, Kelse?” Jenny circled around the table, moving the black cash box from the extra chair before sitting down. “Didn’t you help organize this event?”

  “Uh-huh,” said Kelsey.

  “Doesn’t that mean you’re the one who gave your mother a yellow tablecloth?”

  Kelsey grinned. “Would you look at that, so it does.” She opened the cash box, producing a bunch of little note cards that listed the price of things in neat cursive script. “I bet these are scented.” She raised one to her nose and made a face. “Yup. I would’ve done the exact same thing.”

  “You had to get your love of organization from somewhere,” Jenny pointed out. “Your level of preciseness is born, not made.”

  Jenny watched Kelsey set up the cards in neat rows in front of every tray. Soon, middle-aged women, dragging bored-looking kids, began popping by every few minutes, demanding to kno
w exactly what the ingredients were.

  “I don’t let my Tommy have sugar.”

  “I refuse to let little Samantha eat anything that isn’t organic.”

  “Are these healthy?”

  Jenny started to feel bad for them. The majority of the kids weren’t even allergic, just forced along on whatever crazy fad their parents were following.

  She was glad it was so busy; it gave her little time to think about everything that had been going on. It was exactly what she had wanted. She was winning all around.

  “Where is your little sister, anyhow?” Jenny asked after a balding man pulled his son away from the table because the colors “gave him a headache.”

  “Piano lessons, I think.” Kelsey shrugged, reaching out and plucking a lemon bar to snack on.

  “Your mom will kill you,” Jenny warned.

  “Nah, it’ll be gone before she even sees. Besides, I’ll smell her perfume for miles before she shows up.” Kelsey took a huge bite. She gestured across the aisle as she swallowed. “Look at how people are fawning over Linda Mae’s lemonade. The ice she’s using is frozen lemonade with, like, rind in it.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “I kid you not, my friend.” Kelsey sighed, reclining back in her chair. “Welcome to the world of competitive moms.”

  “Where is your mom, anyway?”

  “Double-checking to make sure everything is going smoothly. She’s like the me of the PTA moms—they respect and fear her,” Kelsey said, polishing off her bar and reaching for another one. “Damn woman is also an amazing cook.”

  Jenny rested her chin in her hands, watching the people mill about. It seemed that almost everything on the black tablecloths was lemon flavored, so their table’s traffic started thinning out rather early. Her stomach grumbled, demanding food, so she grabbed herself a bar, too.

  “Welcome to the dark side. We have reasonably enjoyable baked goods,” Kelsey laughed, nudging her shoulder.