by Michelle Lee
"Whatever." I dismiss his response with a wave and turn my attention to my menu.
"Good afternoon. My name is Chris, and I will be your server. Can I start you off with something to drink?"
"Um, I'll have a water, no lemon," I order.
"Just a Coke for me," Evan says, his eye never leaving his menu.
"Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" the waiter asks, his attention turned towards me.
I look to Evan, and he is just staring at his menu, his lips in a hard line. He has an expression on his face like he's doing trigonometry in his head. He can be so weird sometimes.
"Um, we need a few minutes, thank you," I reply, since Evan has become a selective mute.
Our waiter, Chris, smiles, nods, and leaves us alone. Since when does Evan need to decide what he's going to have? We both have the same thing every time we come here.
"Evan?" I ask while he's still engrossed in his menu.
The menu hasn't changed since the last time we came here.
"Earth to Evan," I sing-song.
As if he finally realizes he's not alone, Evan's gaze leaves his menu, and he stares straight into my eyes. "Evan, what's wrong?" My heart thumps in my chest. He's really making me nervous.
Evan shakes his head, and his eyes take on a warm glow. "Nothing."
I reach my hand across the table and grab his, and that familiar tingle makes itself known as soon as our hands connect. "Evan, I know you better than anyone. I'm your best friend; I know when something's wrong, tell me."
He takes a deep breath and lets it out before he answers, "Zoey, seriously—it's nothing. If it were something, believe me, you would be the first to know."
I search his eyes, but at the moment, all I can see is hesitation in them, and it breaks my heart to think he's keeping something from me. I stare at him a little longer. "Okay," I acquiesce, knowing I am not going to get it out of him any time soon. Chris comes back with our drinks and takes our order. Evan stares out the window; an uncomfortable silence blankets us. It's never been like this. Maybe, he knows we are going to have "the talk." This is going to be harder than I thought. Apparently, we are sitting in silence longer than we thought because Chris comes back with our meals.
"Can I get you anything else?" Chris asks.
Evan remains silent. I look to him and he just shakes his head. "Um, no, I think we're good for now," I answer.
Chris simply nods and leaves us alone. I push my Caesar Salad with Pancetta around with my fork, slowly trying to work up the courage to start "the conversation." Evan is very engrossed in his burger, and his attention has been on nothing but it since Chris brought us our food. I finally take a bite of my salad and push it down. The butterflies that have overtaken my stomach don't like the idea of it being there. I put my fork down and stare at him, willing him to look at me and not his damn food. Why is this so difficult? Things between Evan and me have always been so easy. Why is it like this now?
Evan finally looks up at me. "So, I was thinking we could go see Fast Five this Friday?" He smiles slightly as he takes another bite of his burger.
I am at a loss for words. Since we got here, Evan's presence has been practically non-existent. Now, out of nowhere, he's smiling and asking me out to the movies? What the hell?
His smile broadens, his bite of burger having been swallowed. "Well?" His voice is cheerful.
"Um, nice to know you can speak, by the way. What’s up with the mood swings? Is it that time of the month?" Evan looks at me like I have five heads. He simply shrugs and takes another bite. I swear there is such a thing as guy PMS—I would bet my left ovary on it.
Evan keeps chewing and takes another bite, his eyes on me waiting for a response. He knows I usually don’t have plans on a Friday night. I mean seriously I think the last time I went out on a Friday with someone other than Evan or Ashlee was when the first The Fast and the Furious came out. Evan continues to stare, his eyes boring into me, silently asking me “Well?”.
Here goes nothing.
"I…um…can't…this Friday," I hesitantly respond.
"How come?" he simply asks, his eyes boring into mine.
Okay, here we go.
"I, um, have a date, Friday." I hold my breath.
"You have a date? With who?" he asks, surprise lacing his tone.
Before I can even answer, it's like the proverbial light bulb goes off, and Evan's eyes tell me he knows exactly who.
"Zoey, tell me it's not…" he begins.
"It's Griffin, Evan. I have a date with Griffin," I interrupt him, my voice probably sounding smaller than I intend.
Stay strong, Zoey. You can do this.
"Zoey, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, what do you really know about this guy? Hmmm? He could be some psycho killer or worse. You need to call it off." His voice is filled with conviction, and his eyes grow darker in color.
"Evan…" I knew this was going to be difficult.
He shakes his head and abandons his burger. "Look, I know you think you know him, because…what...you've talked to him a few times and texted since you met, but you don't. He's just going to end up hurting you. Just like Liam and Kevin and Steven and who was the last one? Oh, right…Stefan—the shmuck with the fake accent. So, if I can save you the trouble of a broken heart and me having to pick up the pieces, then I will do what I have to do and say what I have to say. Dating this Griffin guy is a bad idea." His eyes bore into mine, and at this moment, I don't recognize my best friend. All I keep hearing over and over again is "…save him the trouble of having to pick up the pieces." My heart constricts in my chest, and I hold back the tears threatening to make themselves known.
He gives me a challenging smirk and tilts his head, practically saying, "See, I'm right, you know I am."
Anger starts to boil below the surface. I am not in fucking high school anymore. I am not that stupid, insecure girl. This time, it's different. Griffin's different. "Evan, you don't even know him," I whisper, my voice so small I don't think he hears me, but he does.
"No, but I know you, and I know his type. Trust me on this, Zoey," he matter-of-factly says, returning his attention back to his burger.
I gather all my courage, my anger now fueling it. "Evan, I know you think you know what's best for me, what is still best for me, but this time you are wrong—dead wrong. I'm sorry if I've been such a burden to you in the past, with having to pick up all the pieces, but you won't have to pick up anything this time, and that's a promise. And you—who are you to give me dating advice, seriously? You don't date a girl any longer than a couple of months before moving on to the next, with the exception of Paige. Maybe Griffin will break my heart, maybe he won't. Maybe we'll date, maybe we won't. But I will tell you this—it's not going to be because of you." I throw my napkin down, my appetite non-existent, and stand up to leave.
"Zoey…" he calls out as I start to leave.
I turn around and see nothing in his eyes that I can name. "Goodbye, Evan." I turn and make my way out of the restaurant. The crisp, cool air welcomes me when I step outside. My chest tightens under the pressure of fighting with Evan—we haven't had a fight like this since…since…I can't even remember when. As pissed off as I am right now, traitor tears begin to fall down my cheeks, and the only thing I can think of is I hope I just didn't lose my best friend.
****
"So when is he picking you up?" Ashlee yells to me as I put the finishing touches on my makeup in the bathroom.
"Seven-thirty," I quickly yell back.
After having to suffer through many nights of learning how to properly apply makeup at the hands of Ashlee, I am officially a graduate and can do my makeup on my own now; although I did have to push her out of the bathroom when she first got here. She wasn't too happy, but after some convincing, she relinquished control. After a few swipes of blush on the apple of my cheeks, I look at myself in the mirror. I must say I look stunning. My makeup looks natural, highlighting what God gave me. I grab
my tube of sheer shimmer lip gloss and dab a little on my lips, completing my look. I give my hair one last fluff, the loose curls cascading down my back and around my shoulders.
"Looking good, Zoey," I say out loud to myself.
I walk into my bedroom. Ashlee has made herself at home on my bed, unaware that I have left the bathroom. She is totally glued to the television. Figures, "Project Runway" is on. I clear my throat to get her attention. Ashlee's eyes slowly tear away from Heidi saying “Auf Wiedersehen” and fall upon me—her mouth hangs open.
She leaps off the bed, abandoning Heidi. "Oh. My. God. Zoey, you look amazing. I've taught you well. My baby is growing up," she feigns sadness, wiping away an imaginary tear.
I roll my eyes and push away from her. Her hug will definitely ruin my outfit. "Ash, please." I reach behind her, ignoring her continuing squeals and grab my clutch.
"Oh, Zoey, Griffin is just going to gush when he sees you. Not that he didn't have a near heart attack when he met you all Jane-ified. This is just all you. Yep, the man's tongue will be hanging." Her smile widens, and she waggles her eyebrows.
I roll my eyes again.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, missy. Like you don't know how he's going to react. So, you…just…please."
I glance down at myself. "Yeah, I think he'll like it."
"Oh, believe me, he is going to love it." Ashlee bumps her hip into me.
"So, where is he taking you?" Ashlee questions, taking a seat back on my bed and muting Jeff.
"Um, I really don't know. All he said was we were going to his favorite restaurant," I reply with a shrug. At this point we could go to McDonald's—it doesn't matter.
"Well, from the few times I've met him and what Geoffrey and Patrick have told me, Griffin has great taste. You'll be in good hands."
I feel my cheeks get a little warm. The idea of being in Griffin's hands makes my insides tingle. Ashlee giggles.
"What?" I ask feeling slightly embarrassed.
"You. You're all blushly-like. Zoey likes Griffin. Zoey likes Griffin," she teases.
"Ashlee, we're not in high school. Wait, I don't think high school kids act that way—maybe middle school."
"Oh, really. Well, if we were in high school I probably would be saying Zoey likes Evan, Zoey likes Ev-," Ashlee continues to tease, but instantly catches herself.
My body stiffens, and I know my smile instantly disappears.
Evan.
My mood drastically changes. I was feeling all giddy about my date, and now I just feel—what? So many emotions are running through me, and none of them are wanted. I plop myself down my bed, my shoulders instantly slumping, my heart hurting. Noticing immediately, Ashlee rushes to my side and kneels before me. "Fuck, Zoey, listen, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Stupid, stupid, stupid." The words rush from her mouth, however the last few are but a whisper.
"Ash, it's okay, really," I offer trying to make us both feel better.
Ashlee takes my hand in hers and gives me a gentle squeeze. I fight back whatever it is I'm feeling with everything I have. I feel as though I am failing miserably.
"Zo, look at me," she quietly demands.
I slowly lift my head, and I stare right into nothing but concerned eyes. Ashlee positions herself in front of my legs, kneeling on the carpet and resting her hands on my knees.
"I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Shit, I'm never thinking. The words just fly out of my mouth on their own. But, I'm guessing from the way you reacted that you haven't heard from him since you left the restaurant?"
I nod.
"Figures. Listen, Zoey, can I tell you what I think?" she asks.
I immediately roll my eyes. Since when does Ashlee need permission to speak her mind? She does that no matter what, whether it's wanted or not.
"I know, I know. But please just hear me out, okay?"
I nod again.
"Here's my theory, and just listen til I'm done. When I finish, you can tell me to fuck off then, okay?" A playfulness underlines her tone.
A small, weak giggle escapes me.
"Okay, here's what I've come up with. Evan has basically been the guy in your life. Yes, you've dated from time to time, but they never lasted. Evan has always been there no matter what. I know you say that you two don't have feelings for each other, other than friendship, but I know and you know that it runs deeper than that with you. And no matter what you say, I'm betting it's the same for him." She takes a deep breath and continues before I can respond.
"After what you told me was said the other day, I really think that Evan might be jealous."
My eye roll interrupts her rambling, and she gives me the "don't you dare" look. I take a deep breath and wave her on to continue.
"When I say jealous, I don't mean in the boyfriend kind of way, although…"
"Ashlee," I warn and interrupt her.
"Let me finish. Like I said, Evan has been the guy in your life, and I think he feels threatened that he is going to be replaced by Griffin. You said it yourself—you haven't gone gaa-gaa over a guy since your sophomore year in high school when you met you know who. I just think that Evan feels that and is afraid he's going to lose you."
"Ashlee, that's ridiculous. Evan will always be—well, my Evan. I could never replace him, nor do I ever want to. He will always…"
Now it's her turn to interrupt me. "He will always hold a special place in your heart?"
I nod. There will always be a part of me that will love Evan. Nothing or no one can ever change that.
"I just don't think he knows that, Zoey. I'm sure you basically telling him that he's overprotective and to lay off solidified that. I'm sure you hurt him by telling him without really meaning to. He's had that role in your life for so long, I don't think he knows how not to be that person for you. I'm not saying he's right when he told you not to date Griffin. I'm just trying to see things from his perspective." She finally finishes.
Is she right? Is Evan afraid I'm going to replace him with Griffin?
"Just think about it, okay?"
"Okay." Is all I can offer.
Ashlee gives my hand one more squeeze and stands up. "You still look amazing."
I stand up as well and wrap my arms around her. "Thanks, Ashlee, for everything."
"Oh, well, it's the least I can do." She pulls away, and her smile warms my heart.
"Now, if you don't mind, I really don't need 'my mother' here when Griffin arrives, okay?"
"Fine, fine, fine. But you better call me first thing tomorrow and give me all the details."
"I promise. You will be the first person I call after I wake up."
"I better be. Now have fun and be safe." Ashlee points her finger at me the way only a mother can.
"Yes, Mom," I tease.
Ashlee heads to the entryway of my room and turns around. "Oh, and Zoey…give Evan a day or two and then…"
"I will call him."
"That's my girl." And with that, she leaves.
I plop back down on my bed again, noticing the time. Griffin will be here in five minutes. Get it together, Zoey. I take a deep breath and blow it out, blowing out with it the tidal wave of emotions I was just experiencing. I grab my clutch and stand up, glancing at my reflection in my dresser mirror. The woman staring back at me is beautiful and is sure of three things—she is excited to go out with Griffin, Ashlee is always right and after giving Evan some time, she will fix things with him. I straighten my shoulders, shake off all the yuckiness, and leave my bedroom, ready to start what is probably going to be an amazing evening.
Chapter 9
Griffin shows up right on time. After seeing him in that gladiator costume, I didn't think he could look any better. But I was very wrong. Seeing Griffin in a pair of jeans with a light blue button down shirt and a black suit jacket is something else—something better. In a word—yum. He leaves me completely breathless. Parts of me that have been dormant for so long are coming out of their deep slumber. And I like it—a lot.
Griffin is a perfect gentleman after he picks me up. He comments on how good I look. He has some trouble getting the words out, though. Ashlee was right; Griffin loves my outfit and the way I look in it. He escorts me to his car, his hand a feather-like touch on the small of my back. He even opens the door for me.
So far, so good.
Now, I sit in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him as he drives. Soft music fills the space around us, putting me completely at ease. I steal another glance as we approach a stoplight, appreciating his profile. The angle of his jaw lightly covered with stubble, his prominent cheek bone, the perfect curvature of his nose, the way his long eyelashes dust the very upper part of his cheeks when he blinks.
Griffin is just…just…just beautiful.
The only other man I have ever thought was beautiful was…was Evan. My heart aches in my chest. Griffin takes that exact moment to look over at me.
"Everything okay?" he asks concern noticeable in his voice.
I take a small breath and push away any thoughts of Evan. "Perfect. Um, where are we going?" I ask, quickly changing the subject.
"We are going to one of my favorite restaurants. I know you're gonna love it—promise." His entire face lights up and I can't help but smile back at his words.
"I'm sure I will." I reach over and give his forearm a reassuring little squeeze.
His muscles constrict and flex under my touch. I try to picture what his arms look like, but my brain is fuzzy on that particular body part. The night of the Halloween party, I was focused on other aspects of his anatomy, like his chest, the way his hands felt on my waist as we danced, and the encouraging looks his blue eyes gave me during the contest. Now, I can't help but wonder what his arms look like underneath all that clothing. Lickable or not lickable, that is the question. I have always been an arm girl. I can't explain why. There's just something about them that makes me all tingly. My hand lingers a little longer than I intended, but Griffin doesn't seem to mind. I turn my attention to the scenery outside my window, and everything looks familiar—too familiar. Of course I know Chicago—I've lived in the city for years—but the buildings we are passing I know better than all others because…