Forever: A Friends Novel

by Monica Murphy

  “No.” She shakes her head and wipes at her face once more. “My mom doesn’t even know it happened. I kept it all a secret. So that means you have to keep it a secret too, okay?”

  I don’t want to agree. How can she keep this to herself? Doesn’t it gnaw at her mind day after day? “But isn’t this eating you up inside? Not being able to talk about what happened to you?”

  “I’ve worked through it. I’m good now.” Another shrug. Another blank smile with blank eyes and blank…everything. “We should go back outside, don’t you think? They’re probably looking for us.”

  She didn’t give me much detail, and maybe I should’ve pushed for more, but what would I do with it once I had it? My automatic response is to tell. But she didn’t. She told no one. So now she’s stuck with this horrible burden that has a tendency to break out whenever she…what? Is triggered?

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask carefully as I watch her rise to her feet. “We can talk about it some more if you want. I’m a really good listener.”

  Kyla doesn’t even take me up on my offer. She flat out ignores it. “Duty calls. We need to get back outside and get to work.” She claps her hands together and smiles, reminding me of the Kyla I first met. “Let’s get to work, Winters!”

  And then she’s gone.

  Slowly I shuffle out of the girl’s locker room, walking past the lower field where the band is practicing—nostalgic pang—striding faster by the left upper field where the cheerleaders practice, until I’m finally at the edge of the football field. Kyla’s already backing at the hydration station, keeping everyone hydrated, and I just…

  I’m not ready to go back there just yet. My mind is whirling with too many tumultuous thoughts, all of them having to do with my new friend and her painful burden. I thought my problems were bad. Mine are just rumors and bullshit. Kyla is dealing with real life stuff…that she hasn’t properly dealt with.

  “Hey.”

  I turn to find Jordan jogging toward me, his helmet dangling from his fingers, his longish hair already damp with sweat. He’s got the pads on and the white pants they wear to away games—which are streaked with grass and dirt, telling me someone has already sacked him once or twice—and his navy blue and white jersey with the number eight emblazoned across his chest.

  He looks freaking amazing.

  “Hey yourself,” I tell him, trying to keep it easy. Nonchalant. I don’t want to seem like the stalker ex-girlfriend who immediately asks where he’s been.

  Though I’d like to.

  “How are you?” I ask instead.

  “Busy,” he says, sounding the slightest bit short, though I ignore it. Then his voice softens and his eyes go warm as he studies me. “But I’ve been missing you. Are you okay?”

  And just like that, my heart blooms in my chest like a lovingly watered flower. “I’ve missed you too,” I confess, hating how it feels like it took everything inside of me to admit that. Sometimes I’m just as walled off as Jordan is, I swear. Or is he the one who makes me that way? “And yeah, I’m okay.” Sort of. Not really.

  But I’m a lot better now that he’s standing in front of me.

  “Yeah?” He smiles and grabs hold of my hand, lacing our fingers together and pulling me closer. “I’d hug you, but I’ve got all this gear on.”

  “You look hot.” The words slip from my lips before I have a chance to stop them and I slap my free hand over my mouth, feeling like an idiot.

  “You think so?” He’s full on grinning now and the sight of it is dazzling. He’s like the sun and I’m planet Earth, forever caught in his orbit. “I wish you’d say that more often.”

  “Why? You never call me hot.” Yikes, did I just confess I want him to call me hot? Because I so do. I want to know that he wants me. I want to hear the words. I need the confirmation.

  Does that make me insecure? Maybe…

  “I call you hot all the time. Though maybe more in my head, now that I think about it.” He frowns and releases my hand, stroking his chin with his fingers, and I give him a shove, though he doesn’t move an inch. His gaze goes to my face, lingering on my left eye. “Hey, your eye looks better.”

  “Thank you for your pretty lies,” I say, batting my eyelashes.

  “No, seriously. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I wouldn’t lie to you about anything. I promise.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I lock my knees so they won’t wobble. His fingers touch my cheek, the spot directly below my bruise. “Your eye really does look better. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

  Whatever. He could say I’m a hideous troll right now and I’d probably fall under his spell.

  “Tuttle!” A whistle blows and I recognize Coach Halsey’s voice. He sounds pissed. “Stop mooning over your girlfriend and get your ass back out on this field right now!”

  All the guys start up a collective “oooh”, which only irritates Coach Halsey even more. He starts snapping at them, making them all take extra laps, and Jordan leans in while the coach is distracted, kissing me with the softest, sweetest lips.

  “Looks like I need to go. Want me to drive you home after practice?” he asks against my mouth.

  I nod. At least, I think I nod. I feel like I’m in a drunken stupor. “Sure.”

  “See you later then.” Another kiss stolen and then he’s jogging back out onto the field. I keep my gaze fixed on him for a long, drunken moment. He runs with ease, his body an athletic machine and he shoves his helmet on his head, covering that glorious hair of his. A sigh leaves me and I slowly shake my head.

  Despite everything he’s done to me, I still have it bad for him.

  Glancing around, I catch someone watching me from afar. A cheerleader who looks amazing in her too-short navy blue shorts and a white tank top that hugs her perfect breasts, well, perfectly.

  It’s Lauren Mancini. And if looks could kill, I’d be a dead woman.

  Turning my back to her, I start for the hydration station. But I can hear her running after me, calling my name, asking me to stop. God, what could she want to say now? I hurry my steps, trying to get Kyla’s attention, but she’s too occupied with the JV players, who all just came over to the station for some water.

  Which means she needs my help.

  “Seriously, you’re just going to ignore me?” Lauren calls indignantly, so close now I can hear her huffing and puffing.

  Screw it.

  I whirl on her, coming to a complete stop so quick, she practically runs into me. “What do you want now, huh? Want to call me a slut again? Ask if I’ve been gang banged by the entire team yet?” I think of what Kyla told me and I become angrier. “Rape isn’t a joking matter, you know. Though I’m guessing you probably don’t get it, considering you’re such an insensitive bitch who doesn’t care about other people’s feelings.”

  Lauren’s pink glossed lips pop open as she stares at me and she slowly shakes her head. Her ponytail swishes back and forth, almost smacking her cheeks, and I hate that stupid huge bow sitting on top of her head. She looks like a doll.

  “Pretty harsh, Winters,” she spits out. “Talk about a low blow.”

  “And you’re the queen of low blows, so give me a break.” I turn and start toward the hydration station once more, and unfortunately she runs up so that she’s walking right beside me.

  “Listen, I wasn’t going to accuse you of getting—gang banged or whatever.” Lauren makes a face. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier.”

  I stop walking yet again. And she almost collides with me yet again too. “Are you serious? You’re apologizing to me? What’s wrong, are you sick?”

  She shakes her head, setting that ponytail to swishing again. “I’m not sick. It just ate at me all day, what I said to you.”

  “You don’t give a crap about me.” I can’t believe what she’s saying.

  “You’re right. I don’t. But I don’t like talking about things that didn’t actually happen either. Rumors are the worst.”

/>   I’m sure she speaks from experience.

  “You’re right. It didn’t happen,” I say firmly.

  “I know. Cannon told me.” Her eyes go wide. “He actually threatened me over it. He must really like you.”

  “Only as a friend.”

  “And Jordan?” She raises a brow. “What’s going on with you two?”

  I lift my chin. “That’s none of your business.”

  My MYOB statement doesn’t stop her from talking. “You two looked pretty cozy just a few minutes ago.”

  “Look, I really need to go. Are we done here?” I never talk like this to anyone. I’m always polite. But all this bullshit lately has brought out the worst in me.

  Or maybe it’s brought out the best in me. I’m not sure.

  With a sigh, she stares out at the field, her gaze locked on Jordan, no doubt. “Congratulations, Amanda. Looks like you finally caught the uncatchable one.”

  I haven’t caught him yet. The words almost fall past my lips, but I don’t let them. And I’m glad. It’s okay to hold some things back. Why give your enemies ammunition? I don’t need to admit anything to Lauren. She can think I’ve caught Jordan all she wants. The illusion is far better than the truth. Isn’t that what Em meant?

  But I’m starting to realize as I discover everyone’s truths, it’s not that easy. Sometimes the raw truth can be the best thing ever.

  And sometimes the illusion can end up being a total trap.

  “What time do you need to be home by?” Jordan asks after I climb into his Range Rover. Just as he promised, he’s driving me home after practice.

  I pull the seat belt over my lap and click it into place before I meet his gaze. “I don’t know. What do you have in mind?”

  “Do your parents expect you home by a certain time?” When I frown at him he continues. “I don’t want to piss them off, Amanda. I know your mom doesn’t like me.”

  “What exactly did she say to you the other day when you picked me up?” I never did ask. I was too immersed in the moment. Having Jordan back in my life like he never left it was heady stuff.

  It still is heady stuff.

  He stares straight ahead as he starts the car. “Do you really want to know?”

  My stomach bottoms out. “Was it bad?”

  “It wasn’t nice.” He turns to look at me. “But I don’t want to be dishonest with you. I promised myself I wouldn’t be.”

  I think of what Em and I discussed. How she sent me a text not even an hour ago that she was going on a Jordan Tuttle Google blitz, whatever that means. “Just tell me.”

  Jordan takes a deep breath and then lets it all out before he says, “She threatened to never let me see you again. She thinks I’m bad for you, and that I’ll only end up hurting you.”

  Hanging my head, I twist my hands together in my lap. I wish my mother hadn’t said those things to him, but then again, maybe he needed to hear it. Especially because I don’t necessarily disagree with her. Jordan might be bad for me. He might hurt me again too.

  But for some reason I can’t explain, I’m willing to take that chance.

  “Do you wanna go somewhere? With me?” He sounds worried. Almost desperate. Like he’s afraid I’m going to tell him no. And maybe I should.

  I lift my head and meet his gaze, remembering Mom telling me I’m grounded from parties. But hey, this isn’t a party so it doesn’t count, right? “As long as you don’t take me to a party, we’re good. But I need to be home by nine.” It’s already past five, closer to six. I don’t know what we could do for three hours.

  Well, maybe I do know what we could do. Not that I want to do that. Though my body goes hot just thinking about it.

  A faint smile appears. “Want to come back to my house? No one’s home.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say hesitantly.

  The smile is gone, replaced by grim determination. “Okay. Um, want to go out to dinner? I’m starving.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “That sounds good.” And safe. I need safe.

  Going back to his house means spending time in his room, most likely rolling around on his bed and getting naked. And while I might kick myself for not going back to his house with him, I also know I’d be moving too fast if I did. I’m not ready to take that next step. I need more time. I don’t want him to think he has me that easily.

  There’s nothing wrong with playing hard to get.

  We go to a busy chain restaurant that’s loud and crowded, the bar full of people watching Monday Night Football. Jordan doesn’t seem interested in the game whatsoever, and after we’re seated at a booth far away from the bar and the TVs, I lean over the table to say, “Don’t you want to watch the game?”

  He shrugs, his gaze locked on the giant menu open before him on the table. “Not really. I hate both teams.”

  “Not a Steelers fan?”

  “Not even close.” He sends me a quick, disgusted look. Of course, he manages to look both hot and disgusted. This boy is talented. “I’ve actually become a Raiders fan lately.”

  “Really?” He doesn’t look like the type. Raider Nation is pretty crazy and they have a rough reputation. “Why?”

  “Their QB is good. The entire team is good.” He starts looking over his menu once more. “What are you going to have to eat?”

  “I kind of want a burger.” Huh. I wonder if he finds that not ladylike enough. Or am I overthinking things?

  “Me too.” He shuts the menu and rests his forearms on top of it. “I like that you’re not afraid to eat in front of me.”

  “You just made me feel like a total pig,” I tell him, and he laughs. “Seriously, did you date a lot of girls who didn’t like to eat in front of you?” That’s weird, but whatever.

  “I don’t really date.”

  “What do you mean by that exactly?” My dinner choice made, I close my menu as well.

  “I just…I mean what I said. I haven’t dated much. Lauren Mancini and I were a thing during our freshman year, but that didn’t last long, and once we broke up, I never really went out with anyone else.”

  He is such a liar. He’s had lots of girls. Plenty of girls. An endless stream of girls. “I hate Lauren Mancini.”

  Whoops. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

  “She’s kind of a bitch,” he agrees.

  Confirmation is so validating.

  “Kind of?” I raise a brow.

  “Fine, she’s a total bitch. But back when we were fourteen, she wasn’t so bad. She could be fun sometimes. Though she was also self-conscious and worried too much about what other people thought of her.”

  “I guess she hasn’t really changed,” I mumble. I hate hearing him say she was fun. That he had a good time with her. That they share a past. We share a past too, I guess, but it doesn’t feel the same. That was so long ago, what he had with Lauren. Jordan was probably a different person then.

  “Nah, she’s changed. She acts like she owns the school and isn’t afraid of anyone, but deep down inside, I bet she’s still just as insecure as she was when we were freshmen.”

  Hmm, he used the word “we”.

  “Are you insecure?” Maybe I don’t need to dig into his past with Em. Maybe I can figure everything out on my own. It might not be so hard to get him to open up to me after all.

  “I have my moments. Don’t we all?” His gaze locks with mine. “You make me feel insecure.”

  “Shut up. I do not.” I absolutely don’t believe him.

  The waiter appears at that precise moment and takes our order, leaving us with promises to bring our drinks and the mozzarella cheese sticks appetizer Jordan spontaneously requested.

  “You do,” Jordan tells me once our waiter is gone. “I never know how to act around you. I always feel unsure.”

  “Why?” I’m shocked. I’m not a big deal, not like he is.

  “It’s like I see you and I lose all my brain cells. I can’t think. Well, I can think, but it’s only about you. All I
want is to—” He covers his face with one hand, and I can hear the muffled chuckle behind his palm. “I probably shouldn’t admit this to you.”

  “Admit what?” Now I’m curious.

  He drops his hand from his face, his expression serious. “All I do is wonder when can I get you alone next. I want you all to myself.” His voice goes deeper and his eyes get darker. “Always.”

  “Oh.” I blink at him, slightly dumbfounded.

  How do I respond to that?

  The waiter reappears with our drinks, letting us know that the appetizer will be out very soon. Once he’s gone, I unwrap my straw and dunk it into my cup before I take a sip of my Sprite. I’m agitated at the thought of Jordan constantly trying to get me alone so he can…what?

  Come on. You know what.

  “Is that all I am to you? Some sort of conquest?” That comes out snottier than I meant it to, but I must know. If this is only about having sex with me or whatever, then it’s time to move on. I’m not going to give it up to him just so I can say I did it with Jordan Tuttle. That’s not what this is all about.

  I care about him. Actually, it’s more than that. I’m in love with him.

  If all he wants is sex, though…

  “Of course not.” He sounds offended that I would even suggest it. “This is a big deal to me.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “You are a big deal to me. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t need you.”

  Ouch. I hate when he says stuff like that.

  “But I was wrong. I pushed you away like an idiot, and once you were gone, I was even more miserable. So I’ve come to a realization.”

  “You have? What is it?” I’m whispering. My throat is raw. This moment feels…serious.

  “I don’t want to live my life without you in it.”

  Aw. I love it when he says stuff like that.

  We stare at each other, a silly smile on Jordan’s face, and I know I’m wearing one too. I told myself I didn’t want to move too fast and then he has to go and say such sweet things. Act sweet. Look sweet. And just like that, I’m ready to forgive him for his past sins and take him back. Does that make me weak?

  I hope not.