Just Friends

by Tiffany Pitcock

  “You guess?”

  It was surreal sitting next to him and just talking. There was no longing in her chest, no secret desire to be in his arms once more. There was only hurt from how he had treated her, embarrassment, and tiredness. She was so tired of worrying about this, about everything.

  “You do realize that this is my first breakup, right? And you’ve made the whole thing public. You wrote a freaking song about me and started all these rumors, then have the nerve to defend me after not listening to a word I said? I’m trying not to be upset. Do people not have anything better to talk about than my supposed affair with Chance—which never happened, by the way—or our failed relationship? It’s all pointless and meaningless. I don’t even care anymore.”

  That wasn’t true, but she wished it was. She’d give everything she had to not care.

  “Ouch.” Drake winced. “You’re still as cold as ever, I see.”

  Her head shot up. “Excuse me?” Did he seriously have to sit here and insult her? White-hot rage returned to the surface. “I gave you everything!” she said loudly, her voice like a gunshot in the quiet library. Everyone turned their heads to see. “I gave you everything I had! What else do you want from me?”

  “I just wanted to matter to you!” he responded, voice lower than hers. “It was like I was talking to you through glass the entire relationship. Meanwhile, Masters was your golden boy. You always looked so happy with him and you always smiled when you talked about him. I felt like I couldn’t ever reach you because you were always buried in Chance fucking Masters. Were you ever even happy with me?” His voice grew softer. “Are you ever even happy at all? Because you give off this air of not really caring about anyone or anything.”

  “Chance has nothing to do with this,” she said quietly. “And of course I was happy. You don’t really know me at all.”

  “Chance has everything to do with this!” he exploded, tugging at his hair with both hands. She was surprised he didn’t beat his fists on the table. “He was the only thing that could get through to you. I was screwed from the start. You’ve had Chance Masters swimming through your veins since the day you met him. You don’t let anyone but Chance in. I felt it the whole time—our first date, when we’d talk on the phone, when you’d come backstage after shows, even when we slept together—you were never all there. It was like I was only ever getting half of you. But you gave him one hundred percent—you obviously did. He didn’t have to repeat something five times to make sure you were paying attention. He didn’t have to—you know what? No, I’m not doing this.” He sighed, defeated.

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I tried so hard to make us work. Yes, I was happy … I think I was happy.… I wanted us to be happy. Is that what you want to hear? Because I don’t understand this!” Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. I will not cry, she vowed. “To be honest, what happens with Chance has nothing to do with you. You’re the last thing on my mind when I’m with him.”

  “Did you say that to convince me you aren’t cold? Because it didn’t work.” He leaned forward, his face close enough that she could see the holes where his old lip piercing had grown in. “It’s shocking to realize how little I meant to you.”

  “What do you mean by that? You meant a lot to me, Drake!” she hissed, conscious of the librarian throwing angry glances their way.

  “Really, then how come you ran into the arms of your best friend?” He didn’t sound angry, just curious. “Maybe I handled the breakup poorly. I wrote a song because I wanted to see you react to something I did. I was your boyfriend, and yet you couldn’t spare two seconds for me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but froze, letting his words sink in.

  “I‘m sorry.” The funny thing was that she meant it. “I never wanted to hurt you.” It didn’t excuse his actions, but it made them more understandable. She started to stand, tired of it all.

  “Don’t.” Drake reached over and grabbed her arm. “Don’t apologize.” He gave her a sad smile. “If you don’t apologize, I can pretend you’re super broken up about me and hiding it really well.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to pull away.

  She didn’t want to think about this. She didn’t want to keep making a scene here in the library. She pushed it all down and buried it away, just as she had with her crush on Chance. She didn’t care if Drake thought she was distant. She didn’t care about any of it. Kelsey had been right: He didn’t know her, not really. It was as simple as that. The people who really mattered knew how she felt.

  “Wait,” Drake asked her. “Please don’t run away.”

  “Are you kidding me?” someone loudly exclaimed from behind them.

  They turned to find Chance standing in the doorway. “Are you seriously making her cry right now?”

  “You don’t have to yell. We’re in a library” was Drake’s snarky reply, his hand still wrapped around Jenny’s forearm.

  Chance ignored him, turning to Jenny. He looked good today, but then he always looked good, with his shaggy hair and faded jeans. “Is he hurting you?”

  “No, and I’m not crying.” She blinked away the tears in her eyes as she jerked her arm free. “We were talking, but we’re done now. Can we please just leave?”

  Chance looked at her for a second before turning back to Drake. “You need to back off,” he hissed.

  “I don’t think so.” Drake moved to step between them and the doorway, purposely blocking their path.

  Jenny could feel something bad starting, the air crackling with tension. Oh my God, not now. She placed a hand on Chance’s chest, trying to steer him toward the other exit. Everything had been wrapping up nicely, but now it was unraveling fast.

  Drake zeroed in on Chance. Any truce they’d called before was over now that Chance had gotten him riled up. “You never came between us before, Masters.” He smirked wickedly. “What were you doing the whole time I was seeing your girl?”

  “I am not Chance’s girl! I don’t belong to anyone.”

  “I was getting on with my life, because that’s what regular people do. This obsession you have with making her miserable is not normal.” Chance lunged, straining against Jenny’s hold on his collar. “If you think acting like an asshole is endearing, it’s not. I know her, and I’ve been with her a lot longer than you have.”

  “You know her better than me, huh?” Drake asked. “That’s funny, because I happen to know her pretty well. And I know the only kinds of girls that hang around you are whores and sluts. Yet somehow I thought she was different. I was wrong. Of course I was. I mean, look how easily she gave it up.”

  Jenny froze—how dare he throw something like that in her face?—and Chance broke from her grip. One second her hand was on his chest, pushing him back, the next his fist was ramming into Drake’s smug face. Jenny jumped out of the way, tripping over her own feet; she crashed to the ground as they crashed into the reference shelf. She scrambled to stand, grabbing at whoever’s elbow she reached first, trying to pull them apart, to no avail.

  Girls in teen movies always gushed about having boys resort to blows over them, but this was no picnic. Jenny winced as blood erupted from Drake’s nose and Chance reared backward to land another blow.

  A small crowd gathered around, watching the two roll from the reference section to the new arrivals. Books tumbled to the ground and the noise was enough to bring the librarian out from the back room to see what was going on. She took one look at Chance perched over Drake, holding him by the collar of his bloodstained shirt, before running to the checkout desk and frantically buzzing the office over the intercom.

  Jenny’s eyes scanned her surroundings, looking for anything to help stop them. Everyone was gathering, staring from the fight to her; some people had even taken up the creative chant of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Her gaze rested on a stack of reference books the boys had knocked over, and she decided that desperate times called for desperate measures. She lifted one of the heavy t
omes above her shoulder. She tried to wait until Drake pinned down Chance, but Chance wasn’t letting up at all. She didn’t care anymore, not right then. Let people stare, let her blush permanently stain her skin, she just wanted them to stop.

  Just like that Jenny Wessler lost it.

  She closed her eyes and started chucking dictionaries.

  CHAPTER 32

  Chance

  The first dictionary launched into the fray and connected with Chance’s side, knocking him over and giving Drake enough time to work in a punch that split open the blond’s lip. It took Chance a few seconds to realize what had happened. One second he’d been grappling with Drake, and the next something heavy had hit him, pain exploding all down his side. He reeled back, looking around just in time to catch Jenny heaving another dictionary into the air.

  What. The. Fu—

  Another dictionary came sailing through the air, catching Drake in the small of his back. He crumpled like a pile of rags.

  Chance stopped, still trying to process what had happened. He’d seen Jenny crying and Drake was there and suddenly all the anger and angst of the past few months had broken through. He hadn’t meant to do this. Chance—confused, blood dribbling from his busted lip, pulsating with pain—looked at her. Drake picked up the offending dictionary, looking as if he thought it had fallen from the sky.

  “You are both so stupid!” Jenny yelled, her anger boiling over. She reached out to grab Chance by the shirt and dragged him away from her ex-boyfriend. “You stupid boys! I can’t believe you two right now!”

  She looked down at Chance, and he realized he had never found her as hot as he did right then. He had never seen her angry before. Her eyes were on fire, her hair wild, and her skin flushed. She was vivid, passionate, and wonderful.

  “I don’t need you fighting my battles! And you—” She whipped around to face Drake. “Aren’t you a pacifist? What the hell do you think you’re solving with this?” She clenched her fists at her side, seething. “I should leave you both here to kill each other!”

  Everyone stared at her, wary that she was going to start throwing dictionaries again at any minute. Chance’s anger evaporated, shame flooding him.

  “Jens—” he began, but she silenced him with a glare.

  “First off, Chance, I hate violence.”

  A glance to the front of the library told Chance that the librarian was now watching through her office window—no doubt waiting for the principal or resource officer to arrive.

  Great, as if the librarian didn’t hate me enough already.

  Jenny went on. “How many times have I told you that I hate fighting? It is literally the dumbest thing you could do.”

  “Yeah, but he—”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” She whipped around to face Drake, wincing at the blood that poured from his nose. “Second off, I have not slept with Chance. But you know what? His presence alone made you so insecure about your ability to keep me interested that you left like a scared little boy. He’s that much of a threat to your manhood—not that there’s much of that anyway.”

  Drake brought the hem of his shirt up to stem the gushing blood. “I think he broke my nose,” he wheezed.

  Pathetic, Chance thought. I didn’t hit you that hard.

  “Good, I hope he did.” She glared at the people still gathered around. “What the hell are you looking at?” she demanded, throwing her arms wide. “Haven’t you ever seen a girl lose her temper before?”

  The crowd scattered.

  “Well, thank you for that insightful speech, Miss Wessler,” a voice rang out from behind her. Her arms fell limply to her sides. Turning slowly, she saw that Principal Rickman had entered the room, Officer Pullman right behind him.

  Well, shit.

  * * *

  “SUSPENDED FOR THREE days,” Principal Rickman repeated in his monotone voice. Chance sat in the uncomfortable chair across the desk from him. It wasn’t Chance’s first time in the stuffy office this year, but it was definitely the most trouble he’d ever been in.

  “I don’t know what possessed you to act out in such a way, but we do not tolerate solving problems with our fists in my school, understand?”

  Principal Rickman was a portly man with a flab of skin that hung down under his chin and wobbled when he talked, making him resemble a turkey. Chance tried not to stare as he nodded.

  “Very well, then, you’re dismissed. Send in the other boy.”

  Drake sat out in the hallway, slumped in one of the miniature plastic chairs. The nurse had given him a rag to help stop his nosebleed, and Chance was delighted to find it was still pressed to his face. He would smile if his fat lip weren’t pulsating with pain. Drake definitely had a better right hook than he’d thought.

  “You’re up,” he said in a clipped tone.

  Drake nodded before rushing past him and into the office.

  Chance stood for a minute in the silence of the empty hallway. Everyone else was in fourth block. He looked down at his injured hand. The nurse had bandaged him up to the best of her ability, but the skin broke open when he moved it, rapidly soaking the bandages.

  “Watch out for infection,” she had warned. “You might even want to look into getting stitches.”

  Yeah, right.

  “I’m fine,” he had assured her, and she had sent him on his way.

  He checked his phone, spying a text from Jenny. Right after the principal had walked in, everything had happened in overtime. The resource officer had restrained both the boys—even though the fight was over—and held them as the principal escorted Jenny to the counselor’s. She was gone by the time he got to the office.

  Her text read: I’ve got detention. We’ll talk about this later.

  Whatever, he didn’t need her to tell him that what he’d done was wrong. He already knew that. There he’d been, thinking about third options, everything finally falling into place—and then there was Drake, spoiling the moment like he always did.

  I guess it’s not meant to happen, he considered as he dialed Levi’s number.

  “Well, well, well,” Levi said in a pompous voice. “I’ve been expecting you, Chance. You can’t see it, but I just flipped on the lamp here, all dramatic.”

  Chance groaned. “The school already called you, didn’t they?”

  “Yes. I was waiting for you to come home so I could surprise you then, but this works, too. I’m also wearing a bathrobe and holding a glass pipe.”

  “Dude, that is not the right pipe for the situation.”

  “I found it under my bed. I’d forgotten all about it.” Levi laughed. “It was the best I could do on short notice. The next time you get into a fight at school, I’ll make sure to run to the costume shop first.”

  Chance ignored him, getting straight to the point. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Trouble? I’m proud. You punched a guy in the face. I heard him whining that you broke his nose. This was the douche ex, right?”

  “Yes, and I did not break his nose.”

  “That’s disappointing,” Levi sighed. “Tell me all about it.”

  Chance wasn’t used to getting to explain himself. Whenever he messed up, his dad yelled until he was blue in the face, then his mom stepped in and grounded him. Well, if they even noticed he’d messed up at all.

  “Drake was making her cry. Then he said some disgusting stuff about her. I snapped. I couldn’t help it.” After all these months of Drake being an ass, Chance couldn’t hold it back anymore. He’d had to punch the guy.

  “Good for you. I knew you needed to do this. Doesn’t it feel better now?”

  “Honestly? Not particularly. It’s a hollow victory.”

  He felt empty. Any satisfaction he felt after sinking his fist into Drake’s face evaporated once the fight was over. The adrenaline left, and so did his fury.

  “Is it because of Jenny? Is she okay with you breaking her ex’s nose?”

  “Of course she’s not. She’d livid. Also, I didn’t break his n
ose,” Chance insisted.

  “What did Jenny do?”

  “Pelted us with dictionaries and screamed that she hated us. I feel bad about that part.” He touched his busted lip. “I think I ruined any potential third options.”

  Levi scoffed. “No way. You’ve only improved your chances.”

  “You can’t possibly know that.”

  “It’s how the story goes,” insisted Levi. “You defended her honor. Now she has to love you.”

  Chance recalled Jenny’s expression as she’d glared at him and Drake. “She doesn’t have to do anything.”

  “Seriously—”

  “Levi, no,” Chance interrupted, his voice stern. “I messed up. I need to deal with it. I constantly screw up all my chances.”

  He needed to go away, to think about what he’d done. He couldn’t sit there and listen to Levi spout his optimistic bullshit. He needed to plan out his next move, to figure out what to do.

  He needed to figure out how to fix things. All he could see was Jenny’s face, twisted in rage. He hung up on his brother, walked to his car, and drove away.

  CHAPTER 33

  Jenny & Chance

  “I still can’t believe him!” Jenny said for the umpteenth time that day as she stormed down the street after school. “I can’t believe either of them!” She didn’t even care that she was talking to herself in public. Let people stare, she thought. She’d already gotten enough attention from throwing dictionaries. She hadn’t even thought about what everyone around her had been thinking; her sole focus had been to keep the two idiots away from each other. I was so angry that my mind went blank. It was so freeing not to care, to just let go and let herself feel something raw and real.

  People kept whispering about her for the rest of the day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Finally. There were more important things, such as finding Chance and giving him a piece of her mind.

  She couldn’t even fathom the level of stupidity that drove Chance to start a fight. She’d had the rest of the school day and detention to stew over it and work herself up all over again. She wasn’t as angry as she had been, but she was still righteously pissed.