More Than His Best Friend (More Than Best Friends Book 1)

by Sally Henson

  “Soooo …” My shoulders are raised high by my ears, waiting for them to reveal what we’re doing here.

  Tobi pulls out the flashlight and puts her arm around Lane, and he puts his arm around me.

  “The Three Amigos,” Tobi announces with a giggle, referencing the silly old movie

  Sarcastically, Lane mutters, “That's about right.” He pulls us both into him, and we bounce off his body, stumbling a step.

  I stop and duck from under Lane’s arm. “What are we doing here?” Impatience is taking its toll on me.

  Lane tugs my hand and says, “This way.”

  We're walking away from the pond and the truck. It's dark except for the stars in the night sky and the flashlight.

  “There's nothing out here. And I'm not going swimming when it's this dark out.”

  Lane pulls me a little closer and chuckles softly.

  “We're almost there,” Tobi assures me. “We're adding to your list of somewhat risky behaviors.”

  I swallow and shake my head, not sure what she's talking about, and frankly a little nervous about it. Sometimes Tobi is a little too crazy for me.

  She shines her flashlight up and down before us. “Remember?”

  I laugh at the sight. “Are you serious?”

  “Oh, yeah, baby.” Tobi’s full of confidence.

  If I wrangled cows all the time, I’d be full of confidence, too.

  I shake my head. “I don't know about this.”

  Lane rubs his hand up and down my arm for support.

  “This is more than risky. It's stupid. What if I get my foot caught, or my hand cut off, or grease all over me?”

  Lane takes my hand and drags me to the ladder. “Come on, I'll go with you.”

  “It's too dark. I can't see. I'm going to fall off or something.” My legs feel weak. A tiny shot of fear shoots through me from my head to my toes, and suddenly I need to pee.

  “You'll be fine.” Tobi tries to encourage me, but it doesn't work.

  “Don't you dare take any pictures. My parents will kill me!” My voice is a little shaky, too, like the rest of my body.

  Lane stands in front of me, inches from my face and squeezes my shoulders. “I'll start up and you follow me. Okay?”

  Face your fears, Regan. I can do this. “Okay.”

  Lane yells down to Tobi, “Shine the light up here.”

  Tobi moves the focus of the light for us to see.

  “Aaaaaa ... this is crazy!” All right, I'm doing this. I'm already out of breath and my heart is racing, but I'm doing this.

  It can't be that hard. It's just a ladder. I've climbed hundreds of ladders in my lifetime—though none of them led up to a moving machine that won't give if I slip and get a body part stuck somewhere it shouldn't be, between the gears of this oil pump jack.

  Lane is already at the top and swings his right leg over the frame. “Give me your hand.”

  I climb a few more rungs and reach up my right arm. When my trembling hands reach his, I calm down.

  He looks at my face with a small smile. “Okay. Do you want to sit in front of me or behind?”

  “Mmm …” I contemplate which one is safer—if that's even a possibility here. “Behind.” Adrenaline-laced with fear and excitement course through my body at what I'm about to do.

  “Wrap your arms around me first.”

  I do. His body’s moving back and forth.

  “Now hold on while you swing your leg over. Ready?”

  I nod, my head against his side.

  “One. Two. Three. Go.” He times it where the beam is angled back.

  I swing my right leg over the top of the beam, sitting behind him, holding on for dear life.

  He has one hand firmly holding onto my arms around his middle and the other holding on to the lip of the thick, cold steel. He switches quickly, grasping behind my right knee steadying me and sliding me closer so there’s no space between us, then switches his hands back to my arms and the beam. “You okay?”

  “Other than my heart about to jump out of my chest?”

  He snickers, “Yeah, I can feel it hammer against my back. We’ll be fine.”

  I did it. A whoosh of air comes out in my effort to calm down. I try to force my heart rate down with my breathing. That's better. Now, feel the rhythm of the movement. Down, two, three, four, five, six. Up, two, three, four, five, six. Repeat. Slow and steady. My grip on Lane is tight, and I shake a little when the beam angles down and up; I'm fine at zero degrees.

  A half giggle, half cry rattles in my throat.

  Tobi yells up at us. “It's the slowest one in the quarry.”

  I snort as if that makes this any less terrifying. I think I'm finally getting a grip here, though.

  Lane turns his head toward me. “It's like being on a see-saw when we were kids.”

  Yeah, it’s kind of like that. “Except our feet don't touch the ground.”

  His body shakes with laughter.

  I relax my arms a bit but squeeze my legs tighter to the beam. It's still a rush. “Woooooohoooooo!” I scream. “I did it!”

  Tobi's yelling and clapping, jumping up and down. Lane has a one-armed death grip on my arms to help me feel safe, and he's laughing with me.

  Lane lets out a guttural howl into the night, proclaiming we're alive and young and in the moment. It's kind of attractive when he does that—in a primal way, I guess.

  Tobi follows suit. After I calm down, my arms loosen more, signaling to Lane he can loosen his grip too.

  He crooks his neck to look back at me. “How is it?”

  “Not exactly as I thought it might be. But risky enough.”

  Tobi yells up at me. “Does it feel like riding a buckin' bronc or a mechanical bull?”

  “I don't know. I've never ridden either.”

  We all cackle at the thought of me and any of these options.

  “I can't believe I'm riding a pump jack. This is so crazy and stupid.”

  “All right, I'm going to move behind you. You have to see the view from the front.”

  I'm a little more confident than I was climbing up, but still scared.

  Lane is back on the ladder, “Scoot up.”

  I slowly pull myself forward, sliding across the beam. He swings his leg over and slides close, timing it on the up angle. The warmth of his body is pressed against my back.

  47

  Lane

  This is unbelievable, but it would be so much better if she’d let me do this when we’re on the ground. I’d love to hold her like this.

  I lean in closer with my cheek against hers and say, “It's cool, right?”

  “It’s too dark. There's nothing to see.”

  I nuzzle my nose, my face, against her neck on the side Tobi can’t see. “Mmm, you're right, the view is much better from here.”

  She manages to elbow me without falling off, but it only makes me laugh.

  “I was talking about the stars!” I protest, lying, of course. “They’re amazing.”

  She tilts her head a little. “Yeah, they are.”

  “Imagine what it would be like with a full moon. We could see clear across the quarry.”

  Tobi hollers “You guys look like you belong together.”

  Regan stiffens and calls down to her, “I think it's your turn.” She cranes her neck so she can see me. “Do you think you can get me down from here?”

  “Yes, but”—I squeeze her tighter—“I'd rather stay right where we are.” I want to tell her how great this is, how I want her to hold on to me and be this close to me. But decide against it and climb off the beam.

  I talk her down the ladder.

  From the bottom rung, she jumps back to the ground. “Whew, my legs feel a little wobbly.”

  I squeeze Tobi’s shoulders. “It's your turn, Tobi.”

  She hands Regan the flashlight and her phone. “I'm taking this beast by the horns.” Her eyes are narrowed slits as if she's about to climb on the back of a bull.

  �
��You're such a goof.” Regan giggles. “You should be an actor, not a cattle baroness or a neuroscientist.”

  Tobi turns and gives Regan the cowboy evil eye.

  Regan ignores it. “Lane should go with you.”

  Tobi tilts her head and says to me, “You can follow me up the ladder in case I need you, but I want to do it myself.”

  Tobi’s gutsy. She's gotten kicked by cows, charged by a territorial bull, shocked by an electric fence, and bucked off a horse. She just gets up, dusts off, and keeps going.

  Tobi climbs up the ladder like a monkey, leaving me behind. “Here we go!”

  At the top, she grips the lip with her hands on both sides of the steel beam. Then, bam! She's sitting high in the saddle, yelling, “Yee-haw!”

  I don't even bother going all the way up the ladder and shimmy down before going to stand beside Regan.

  “Look at her,” Regan says, full of admiration, and shakes her head.

  “Fearless,” I add and drape my arm around her shoulders.

  Tobi’s gripping the beam with one hand and raising her other arm up like she's riding a bronc or bull. She hollers and carries on. “Take a picture, Lane.”

  Regan hands me Tobi’s phone. “It may be too dark.”

  Aim and flash. I take three and check them. We can sort of make them out, but they're too dark, and blurry.

  Regan pats my arm. “It’s okay. Better off not having any evidence. Don’t take anymore, okay?”

  Not that Tobi would say Regan was riding the pump jack, but people like to talk.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  Regan gets a panicked look on her face. “Wait, what time is it?”

  I check Tobi’s phone. “Uh oh, we better get you home. It's twenty till twelve.” I shout up to Tobi, telling her we need to go.

  Tobi signals in understanding and begins her climb down.

  Regan’s working tomorrow, and I want to make clear we’re spending time together Sunday. Since Tobi’s around and we won’t have any time to ourselves tonight, I whisper, “We're going for a walk Sunday, by ourselves, and you’re going to tell me everything you've been holding back in that pretty little mind of yours.” I twirl a piece of her hair in my fingers. “Whatever it is, we need honesty.” My hand slides down to her lower back. “And you’re going to make amends for your earlier behaviors.”

  As soon as Tobi hits the ground, I motion her to the truck.

  Regan mumbles, “That's what you think,” and scurries to Tobi, locking elbows with her.

  They skip ahead of me, but Regan looks back. “Come on, I don't want to be late. I'll be grounded for weeks and I won't be able to see either of you.”

  We pull in Regan’s drive at eleven fifty-one.

  “Thank you for not making me late.” She gives Tobi a big hug. “Have a good time at the fair. Maybe you'll meet a nice guy there.”

  “Nah. I doubt it. I don't think I really want to date anyone, anyway. But I don’t mind a little eye candy, if you know what I mean.”

  Regan giggles and I roll my eyes, even though they can’t see me do it.

  Tobi hugs Regan. “I'll see you in a week.”

  Regan sighs. “I’m gonna miss you at practice.”

  Tobi snickers. “Find some freshman to take it out on.”

  Regan shakes her head and points to my door. When our eyes connect, it shocks my heart. I don’t want to let her out of this truck.

  I step out anyway, giving her hand a squeeze in the dark as her feet hit the ground. We take a few steps toward her house.

  I murmur, “Night.”

  Ugh, I wish we could have more time together. Alone.

  She squeezes my hand too, lingering close to me, before slipping her hand from mine. “See you Sunday.” But as she turns away from me, she sings in a low voice,“Lane Oliver Cary.”

  Three words that are meant only for me send my heart into spasms. Can I let her walk away without kissing her? I’d settle for a hug. A friend would do that. I grasp her hand, pull her to my chest, and stroke her hair, memorizing the mix of coconut and sweetness that is Regan. Her arms slide around my waist, and it calms me down.

  Regan clears her throat, steps back, and sputters, “Um, thanks, you guys, for everything. The surprises were great.” She looks between me and the truck.

  Tobi leans out her window. “I knew you'd never guess.”

  Regan snickers and turns to walk away. I watch her hips sway all the way to the house. She stops at the door and raises her hand in a wave before going inside.

  I take a deep breath, slide under the wheel, and back out.

  “Bet you’re wishin’ you’d dropped me off first, huh?” Tobi teases.

  I shoot her a puzzled look. “Why would I wish that?”

  “Don’t you two think you’ve been dragging this out long enough? Just make out and get it over with.”

  As hard as I try act like I don’t know what she’s talking about, my smile gives everything away.

  48

  Regan

  I find a tree in the park that overlooks the little pond and sit down beside it. The pool is closed for its evening break. Instead of spending money at the diner, I opted to bring a sandwich and some water.

  The woman who lives across the pond just finished mowing her yard, and there are a couple moms and three little girls playing on the swings at the other end of the park.

  The cicadas are in full force right now. I pull my knees up and lean back against the rough bark of the tree and take a deep breath, smelling the fresh-cut grass. My eyes graze across the pond through the woods where Lane had taken me for a picnic lunch. I chuckle to myself at the three pieces of paper folded into tents he put on his dash. So sweet.

  I rummage through my bag for my notebook and flip it open to the middle. At the top of the page I write, “College” and begin listing, in order, the colleges I want to attend, including any details I know about them. Each location holds an adventure I surely wouldn’t forget, but most of all, a degree in marine science. My spine stiffens with determination to hold on to my plans for college, for the future.

  Eckerd College is my first choice. I'm excited about this place. I met a boy at Lane’s graduation party that goes to school there. I’d never heard of it before, but it’s amazing. It’s in St. Petersburg, Florida, the sunshine state. Plus, it’s right on the beach of the Gulf of Mexico. Exactly where I want to be and plenty far enough away from the gossipy Fanigers.

  St. Petersburg has a tropical climate—a must have, in my opinion. They have a hands-on curriculum and a fleet of vessels at their disposal. Even some of the faculty takes on summer and winter research in the Caribbean. They even offer students positions as assistants. My teeth graze my bottom lip, and the corners of my mouth lift. How amazing would that be? It's a private school so I assume the tuition would be outrageous. But, Hook, a guy I met at Lane’s graduation party, told me it isn’t any higher than public universities for students who live out of state. I have to go here.

  My number two choice is further away, which is a plus, but the tuition is higher. Oregon State University is not located on the beach and Oregon isn't the warm Gulf Coast either. My lips lose their curve and spread into a thin line. Their program isn’t as hands on as Eckerd. Hurricanes are a rarity on the West Coast. Hurricanes would become part of my life and work if I went to Florida. Marine scientists are busy when a severe weather like that hits, assessing the waters, animals, plant life, and things like that afterward. OSU is still a good program, but it’s not the warm, beachy atmosphere I crave.

  My third choice has the best weather and is a little bit cheaper. I waver back and forth between OSU and this one changing my mind on their rankings. It would be a dream come true to go to the University of Hawaii at Hilo. They’re a hands-on program too and has some very technical electives within their program. I think I might like the technical part and the mapping. I’m not sure.

  U of H at Hilo is very close to the beach. A huge problem is it may be too far f
rom home. Getting as far away from this place as possible is a goal, but I'm realizing there are some distances that may be too far for me—at least for my first year away from Mom and Dad. I'd have to fly and I wouldn't be able to come home on the holidays.

  I get butterflies thinking about being there. I mean, wow, Hawaii. It would simply cost too much, though, when you add in travel expenses. Unless I was offered a one-hundred percent, all-inclusive scholarship, I couldn't afford to go. I think I'd like to be able to come home once in a while. My shoulders slump with a sigh, tearing a piece of my resolve. Dad might disown me if I move far away and major in marine science. Maybe he’s testing me to see how serious I am. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to be that far. Especially if Lane stays at Eastern.

  But Florida and Eckerd College is so ideal. I take a deep breath and rest my chin on my knees, gazing at the pond and trees. Lane would probably like Florida. Salt-water fishing is supposed to be phenomenal. Next time I'm at Tobi's, I need to see if Eckerd offers degrees in resource management. Oooh, I sit up straight and scribble a note, thinking maybe an environmental science degree might work for him to be a conservation officer. I'll check that out, too.

  It would be nice to run with him on the beach in the mornings before class. He’d have a deep tan after spending so many days in the surf and sun. His sandy hair would probably turn bleached blond. My insides melt like butter imagining how nice he’d look. We could study together, eat supper, and take a break to watch the sun sink into the ocean. I could handle long walks on the beach, strolling hand in hand, until the moon reflects itself in the water.

  Dreamy.

  My hand sketches his eyes across the top of the page. How beautiful they’d be in the evening light after the sun disappears beyond the ocean when he gets that look, and his lips—

  Regan! You idiot! You're supposed to be focusing on a game plan for your future, not daydreaming about Lane. Get a grip!

  I blink profusely. Daydreaming is not helping anything. Lane is stirring up feelings that I'm not sure exactly what to do with. I like it, but I shouldn't like it. There's no way we can go to the same college. We’d end up married the first year or do something equally as stupid. And how would that work out? It wouldn't.