My Best Friend's Ex

by Hazel Kelly

  She scoffed.

  He raised his brows.

  “Sorry about that noise,” she said, visibly flustered. “I meant to say the pleasure’s all mine.”

  I sobered instantly as I watched this gorgeous, confident woman flirt with my… what, exactly? My best friend’s ex? My brother? What right did I have to feel this distaste at the back of my throat? He didn’t belong to me. Never had. And he liked sexually confident girls with shiny hair. Fuck.

  Deep down, it didn’t seem fair. I mean, first Piper and then my only- and therefore best- friend at college? I couldn’t go through this again. Please, Logan. Please fall for anyone else.

  “Can I make you a Bloody Mary?” she asked, her emerald eyes sparkling at him.

  “Thanks,” he said. “But I’ve got the car.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said, returning to her drink.

  “You want to sit?” I asked, gesturing between the empty space at the end of my half-buried bed and my desk chair.

  He took the chair.

  I plopped on my bed and asked him to grab my drink from the bottom drawer of my desk.

  He smelled it and smiled before handing it to me.

  “What?” I asked, sniffing it to see what was so funny.

  “Wouldn’t want to go too heavy on the tomato juice,” he said, looking back and forth between Nina and me.

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t grow on trees, you know?”

  “How long have you been on campus?” he asked me, leaning back in my chair to look through the cheap blinds at the simple courtyard below.

  “For two Bloody Marys,” I said, grateful for my buzz as I held up two fingers. It made it easier to feel comfortable in my friendly mood. Plus, if I accidentally let a hand linger on his shoulder too long or something, I could play it off as a side effect of my libations.

  “Explains why you haven’t done any unpacking.” He looked around the room, mostly at Nina’s side since there was nothing to look at on mine apart from a bunch of bags and boxes beside a beige-painted cinderblock wall.

  “You went to Bonnaroo last year?” he asked her, admiring one of her colorful posters.

  She nodded.

  “Me too.”

  She lit up. “Yeah?”

  “The last day was pretty epic with the rain.”

  “I remember,” she said. “One of my friends got so fucked up she turned her wellies inside out.”

  “I didn’t know you liked music festivals,” I said to Logan as I crossed my ankles.

  My chunky sunflower boots caught his attention, and he stared at them for a second before his eyes traveled up the length of my pale legs. “I don’t really,” he said, as if he hadn’t been staring. “But I like drinking and people watching, and you can’t beat a music festival for that.”

  “How do you two know each other?” Nina asked.

  Logan scrunched his face.

  “It’s complicated,” I said, hoping she’d take the hint and hold her questions.

  “Well, lucky for you, the Barnacle Club is open late tonight.” She held her arms out to her sides and swiveled around in her chair, her eyes even more sparkly than when we first started drinking.

  “How did you pick that name?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

  “It’s complicated,” she said, flashing her eyebrows to let me know she wouldn’t be so easily thrown off course.

  I glanced at Logan’s stoic face and was momentarily distracted by the way the top of his flannel, collared shirt gapped open at the bottom of his strong neck.

  “You used to date or something?” she asked.

  I shot her a look. “No. Never.”

  “We have the same legal guardians,” Logan said definitively.

  Nina made a face at me like that was not the answer she was expecting, but we hadn’t really had a chance to dive into family dynamics yet. Fortunately, she read in my eyes that it was a discussion for later. That, or she noticed how disengaged Logan became in response to the topic, which surprised even me.

  Did he think our forced family bond was as unbearable as I did? Had he come to see me as a friend and not a sister? Why even come see me at all? Did he want to talk about Piper?

  “I heard you have some mail for me,” he said after nobody spoke for a while.

  Well, that answered that question. “Oh, yeah,” I said, eyeing the boxes lining the edge of my bed. “I think it’s in one of these.” I scooted to the edge of the bed carefully so my dress wouldn’t ride up.

  “If it’s not handy, don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s not urgent.”

  “Sorry.” I grimaced. “I should’ve kept it separate from all my junk.”

  “It’s no big deal. I should’ve called ahead.” He stood up. “I’ll leave you guys to it and catch you later.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, forcing a cheerful tone that I hoped would hide how disappointed I was to see him going so soon.

  “Nice meeting you, Nina.”

  “You too,” she chimed. “You’re welcome anytime.”

  He let himself out, and I stared at the door till the latch clicked.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed.

  “What?”

  “Go to that man right now.”

  “Nina, it’s not like that.”

  “I don’t care what it’s like. Go ask him to eat food with you or something.” She shook a palm at the door. “He obviously eats food. And he came here to see you.”

  “Because I have his mail.”

  “Forget the mail. You’re letting him get away!”

  “Nina-”

  “If you don’t go after him, I will never speak to you again.”

  I laughed.

  Her face grew stern.

  “Shit, okay.” I stood up and smoothed my dress down. “I’m going.”

  “Don’t come back without a hickey.”

  “Did you not hear what he said?” I asked. “My parents are his legal guardians.”

  “Get out!” she said, pointing at the door. “Before you ruin my buzz.”

  My mind reeled. I mean, I didn’t really think she could go all semester without talking to me, but it seemed like an unnecessary risk to take.

  Besides, I did want to eat food with Logan.

  Or at least be around him a bit longer.

  After all, what was the worst that could happen?

  S I X

  - Logan -

  Going to Pritzker was a mistake.

  Zoey was polite, but I didn’t get the sense that she’d been missing me. Then again, why would she? The last time we spent together was fraught with nerves and stress. As far as she was concerned, I was probably nothing more than the guy who nearly ruined her best friend’s life.

  So of course she didn’t want to be my buddy. Which was fine. I didn’t want to be her buddy either.

  Four years after meeting her, though, and I still couldn’t muster up the platonic disinterest that came so easy with other girls. Was it just because she was off-limits? Or was it because the sound of her laugh was like a windchime and her big blue eyes swallowed me up every time I looked at her?

  I didn’t want to want her like that. I didn’t want to wonder what it would be like to kiss her breasts while she kept her chunky boots on. It was better for me to stay away from her, like I’d always tried to do. Let her live her life without a headcase like me getting in the way.

  It was one thing to expect Piper to put up with my moods and issues. She understood. She had a dark side, too. But Zoey wasn’t like us. She was caring and bright, and her irresistible innocence was as obvious as ever.

  “Logan!”

  I stepped off the sidewalk into the grass when I heard my name so the sweaty dad behind me could get by with his cart, which was piled high with plastic crates. The box on top was overflowing with a variety of tools that were either medieval torture devices or hair-styling tools.

  By the time he pushed past, Zoey had reached the other side of the path
and stood holding her light blue dress down so it wouldn’t flutter too much in the breeze. The phrase star-crossed lovers popped into my head, and I berated myself internally for being attracted to the girl I’d sworn to love like a sister.

  “Did you get kicked out of the Barnacle Club already?” I checked my army-green watch. “It’s not even happy hour yet.”

  “When was the last time you ate food?”

  There was a subtle breathlessness in her voice that turned me on, making her question seem as urgent as my primal need for her. “What?”

  “Food,” she said. “Wanna get some?”

  Perhaps I should follow her lead. She was so much better at not being awkward.

  “I don’t mean to impose if you have other plans.”

  “No, you’re good,” I said, tipping my head towards the parking lot. “Let’s get your drunk ass some food.”

  “I’m not drunk,” she whispered, joining me on the sidewalk. “You know I don’t get drunk.”

  “I’ve seen you drunk,” I said, stepping off the curb between two ridiculously parked SUVs as I dug in my pocket for my keys.

  “One time,” she said, looking at me like I was the one on trial.

  “Was it just the once?” I said, as if I didn’t remember. Fucking wish I didn’t remember. That night haunted me like nothing else, and that was saying a helluva lot.

  “I never get drunk,” she said. “I try, but it just doesn’t happen.”

  “Promise me you won’t say that to any other guy on this campus,” I said, unlocking my jeep. I thought about opening the door for her but thought better of it, wishing I could treat her the way I wanted to- the way she deserved- just once in my life.

  “It’s the truth,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat.

  “Not only is it not true, but if you say that to the wrong person, you’re going to wake up half-naked on a bare mattress somewhere with a lot more than a bad case of dry mouth.”

  She rolled her eyes and groaned.

  “Promise?” I asked, pausing before I turned the key in the ignition.

  “I promise.”

  “Good,” I said, starting the car. “While you’re at it, add your roommate to the list of people you shouldn’t say that to. She’s obviously incorrigible.”

  “Who, Nina?” she asked, her cheeks rosy. “She’s harmless.”

  “Harmless doesn’t let their friends get so drunk they turn their wellies inside out.”

  She dropped her head back against the seat rest and rolled her face towards mine. “I did say I wanted food, right? Because if I accidentally said lecture, I misspoke.”

  I ignored her and looked for a break in the laughable bumper-to-bumper traffic stalled throughout the lot. “Maybe we should’ve walked. Might’ve sobered you up a bit.”

  “I’m fine!” she said, slapping her thighs. “Besides, I want the grand tour.”

  “The grand tour?” I forced my way out into the flow of cars.

  “Yeah.”

  “Not exactly sure what that would entail,” I said, realizing the last time I offered a girl “the grand tour” it was just an excuse to get her up to my bedroom.

  “I don’t mind if you make it up as you go along,” she said, moving her hands as she spoke. “I just want to know the important points of interest. Ya know, like… that’s the stadium, there’s the quad, that frat’s a little bit rapey.”

  My expression fell. Who was I kidding? I’d never be able to relax now that she was on campus. Avoiding her would only make the anxiety I felt over her safety worse. “I’ll show you the points of interest,” I said after I recovered from her rapey frat comment.

  She clapped her fingers.

  “And where to get the best hot dog in town.”

  She scrunched her face like that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “The best hot dog?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” she said, without skipping a beat.

  It was bittersweet that she answered so quick. On the one hand, it was a good sign that my history with Piper hadn’t made her lose faith in me. On the other hand, it was a painful reminder that if I fucked up, I could still jeopardize that trust.

  We drove around for a while with the windows down, and it was fun to see the campus I knew so well through fresh eyes. Zoey kept admiring all the big trees, for example, trees I’d stopped noticing a long time ago.

  I did my best to drive by the places I thought would most interest her, including the new state-of-the-art gym, the quiet library frequented mostly by grad students, the more social library where the undergrads tended to go, and, of course, the student union. I also pointed out the Greek houses I knew by name, including the Beta house, where I lived.

  When she wasn’t busy commenting on the pretty stone buildings or asking a question about where her dorm was in relation to something, she closed her eyes, leaned out the window, and smiled into the warm wind that flowed over her face.

  “I really appreciate you doing this,” she said after I announced we’d earned our snack break. “I feel like I sort of hijacked your day.”

  “Not at all.”

  “And I didn’t even have your mail ready for you.”

  “Consider it an excuse to hang out again.”

  Her thin brows rose as her shiny knees fell in my direction. “Yeah?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

  “You’re not so bad, Logan, you know that?”

  I tightened my grip on the wheel and rolled through an empty intersection. “No offense, Zo, but you have no idea how bad I am.”

  S E V E N

  - Zoey -

  I thought he was joking, but when I laughed, he didn’t even crack a smile.

  Not that that should’ve surprised me.

  I knew he had a dark side, a dark past. I always figured that’s why Piper and I were so drawn to him, but I sort of assumed he would’ve grown out of it by now. I mean, a man couldn’t brood forever, could he?

  At the same time, his comment intrigued me.

  Piper would never tell me much about what they got up to behind closed doors. She always joked that she didn’t want to rob me of my innocence, but I think she was also conscious of the fact that he was technically my brother.

  Not that I ever had a sisterly feeling about him in my life. I’d heard rumors you became a woman the day you got your period or the day you lost your virginity, but I think I became a woman the day my dad brought Logan home and sat him at the other end of our oversized kitchen table.

  Overnight, I went from feeling totally betrayed by my changing body to wishing it would change faster. I wanted him to notice me, to see me as something besides the little girl my parents treated me as. I still wanted that, to be honest.

  But competing with Piper was not only out of the question, it was virtually impossible. She had the looks of a brunette Barbie doll and the attitude of Sandy in the last scene of Grease. I, on the other hand, was a lot closer to pre-makeover Sandy, keeping my hopeless devotion very much to myself.

  That said, I wouldn’t have resented her secrecy so much if she’d taught me a thing or two. So what if she only knew stuff from messing around with Logan? It was uncool that she sent me to college so clueless and inexperienced.

  Not that I hadn’t had opportunities to slip into bed with people. It just never felt right. Not as right as the excuses I always made to remove myself from those situations, anyway.

  The bottom line, though, was that what he said was true. I had no idea how bad he was. All I knew was that I wasn’t bad at all. At least, not in the ways I admired in the people closest to me. Like Piper, for example. She always went after what she wanted without worrying about the consequences for other people. And not only did she have a happier high school experience than me (apart from her pregnancy scare), but I got the sense that she didn’t have half as many regrets.

  “Moment of truth,” Logan said, pulling into a parking spot outside the hot do
g place, which appeared to be a red and white hut no bigger than a garden shed.

  In fact, you almost couldn’t see it for how many people were there, none of whom looked over twenty-five, which only added to the surreal nature of my first drunken college munchie fest.

  “How about I get the dogs and you find a spot at one of the picnic tables?” he suggested, sliding out of the Jeep without bothering to roll the windows up.

  “They look pretty full from here,” I said, feeling sobered by the prospect of entering the crowd.

  “Don’t take no for an answer,” he said, turning towards the hut.

  “You don’t know what I want!” I called after him. But it was too late. He’d already assumed a position at the end of the line. I stared at his back for a second, admiring the way his shirt pulled between his shoulder blades, his body a textbook Y shape. It was a stark contrast to the imperfect mess of hair on his head, which was longer than I’d ever seen it. He probably couldn’t pull it back, but I bet it fell in his eyes when he was-

  He turned and caught me staring before tilting his head towards the picnic tables, encouraging me to get on with it.

  I scanned the crowded patio, buzzing with people to whom I was invisible. I hated being pushy, hated confrontation. But there was one thing I hated more than the thought of inconveniencing strangers, and that was the thought of Logan thinking I couldn’t take care of myself. Or him.

  I wove my way through the round tables and noticed a small group of guys and girls in matching track uniforms that were almost finished. “Do you mind if my friend and I sit at the end of your table?” I asked, apparently not loud enough. I glanced at Logan and saw that he was handing some cash through one of two small windows. “Excuse me,” I repeated. “Are these seats taken?”

  A few of the students looked in my direction. “Knock yourself out,” one of them said as he crumpled a napkin covered in mustard and poppy seeds.

  I dropped my butt on the bench, hoping I didn’t look quite as flustered as I felt and reminded myself that all these kids were just like me. Maybe not so green, but otherwise no different.

  And when Logan’s face lit up the moment he spotted me in the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel that leaving my comfort zone had been worth it.