by Hazel Kelly
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Truth."
I pursed my lips, but stopped when I felt the crack stretch across the bottom one.
"Well?"
"How come you've been avoiding me?"
He turned an ear towards me. "I haven't been avoiding you."
"But we haven't hung out in ages-"
"I've been avoiding your ex."
I glanced down at the cookie bag.
"Because you deserve better, Andi. And it breaks my heart to see you happy with such a-"
"I wasn't that happy."
"I know," he said. "But what was I supposed to do after I begged you not to go out with him and you did anyway?"
"For what it's worth, you were right from the beginning," I said, falling back against the pillows.
"I don't care about being right. I care about you being happy and safe."
I rolled my eyes. "Safe. You sound like my mother."
He flinched like he didn't agree.
I took a sip of my shake.
"As far as I'm concerned, the only good thing that came out of your relationship with that wannabe wife beater is those leather boots," he said, nodding towards the bag by the door.
"They are pretty hot boots," I said. "I'll wear them for you sometime."
His cheeks flushed.
"I didn't mean it like that," I added quickly. "I meant-"
"I know," he said, holding up another Oreo.
Chapter 8: Shane
I didn't want to dwell on the thought of her in those boots.
I don't know why I even mentioned it, especially when she was laying on my bed in my sweatshirt after a day when I'd done enough questioning my motives as it was.
After all, the bottom line was that Andi trusted me, that she always had, and that nothing was worth threatening that trust.
And yet all I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss her cracked lip and make it better.
She grabbed one side of the Oreo I was holding, and we both twisted again.
"Yes!" she said, looking down at her icing covered half. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
She tilted her head. "Don't you want a dare?"
"I've had a daring enough day as it is."
"Okay."
"Plus, the truth is more interesting, don't you think?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Shoot."
"Who are you taking to your barn dance this year?"
"I haven't decided yet."
She craned her neck forward. "But you must've thought about it."
"I guess."
"I thought you were seeing that Indian girl?"
I shook my head. "Seeing is too strong a word."
"What about the Chi O then? The one that thinks you’re crazy about her?"
I raised my eyebrows.
"I overheard her talking about you."
"What did she say?"
"She just made it sound like things between you guys were kind of serious."
"Well, they’re not."
"With anyone?" she asked.
"Did Izzy put you up to this?"
"Not exactly."
"Tell her to mind her own damn business. I don't try and trick her into telling me which mustached beret model she's watching black and white movies with-"
"Yes you do."
I scooted back against the pillows. "I'm ready for the next Oreo."
She smiled and pulled another out of the bag. "Feeling lucky?"
I twisted the cookie and failed to get the icing again. "These are rigged."
"You picked 'em."
"Truth," I said.
She sighed. "Okay. As a friend, how bad is my lip for real?"
I stared at it.
"Oh god, really? Is it seriously taking you that long to come up with something moderately reassuring to say?"
"It's fine," I said, trying to ignore the drop in my stomach. "It's a perfectly fine lip."
Her face dropped. "More like a perfectly fine busted lip."
I shook my head. "You don't look busted. I promise."
Her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks when she dropped her eyes. "Maybe not, but people aren't exactly going to line up to get a piece of-"
I tilted her chin up with my fingers, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her bottom lip where the crack had formed, holding my lips there just long enough to notice she'd stopped breathing.
Then I pulled back and placed a hand on her cheek. "See-" I said, staring into her shiny eyes. "There's nothing wrong with your lips."
She swallowed and leaned away, staring at me like she recognized me but couldn't place who I was. "Why did you-" She brought the fingertips of one hand to her lips.
"Because you're beautiful, Andi. Unconditionally. And it's time you got that through your thick head."
Her eyes smiled. "You can be really sweet when you want to be."
"Don't tell anyone," I said, leaning back against the pillows and sliding my hands behind my head. "I don't want to ruin my reputation."
"Your secret is safe with me," she said, curling her bare legs up into my oversized sweatshirt.
"Good."
"Will we do one more?" she asked.
I grabbed the edge of the bag and peeked inside. "I swear to god if I don't get the icing this time, I'm going out to buy more and we're doing this all night."
"Choose carefully," she teased.
"There's only one left."
"You still get to choose your side though."
I straightened up and stretched my arms in front of me and then out to both sides, cocking my head like I was preparing for the game winning pitch.
She laughed, and the sound made my heart glow in my chest. How could I have gone so long without that life affirming sound?
"Come on already," she said. "Don't keep the fans waiting."
I exhaled and reached in the bag. Then I pulled out the final Oreo and held it up between us.
"Are you sure that's the side you want?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and looking between me and the cookie in question.
"Don't fuck with me," I said. "Just twist the damn cookie."
"Okay, but only if you're absolutely sure you're ready. I mean, if you need to do some lunges or something-"
"Shut up."
Half her mouth curled into a smile as she took the cookie facing her and gave it a twist.
I fist pumped when I saw that I had the icing covered side.
"Ridiculous.” She shook her head. "I can't believe you won after that silly display."
I tapped my temple with two fingers. "It's all about visualizing the win. Maybe I can give you a few pointers next time."
"I won all the other ones!"
"Because I let you," I said. "I threw them so I could get the game winning Oreo."
"The game winning Oreo? I thought every one was a game winner."
"Good point," I said, tired of gloating. "Pick your poison."
She sighed. "Truth."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because the dare involves those boots and-"
"I'm definitely sure."
I can't believe I mentioned the boots again. What the hell was wrong with me? "Last chance to change your mind?"
"Truth, please. Final answer."
"Do you want to stay?"
She scrunched her nose. "Stay what?"
"Here. Like stay the night?"
She glanced at the Miller Time clock on the wall and then back at me. "Like on the futon?"
"Actually, the futon is- unlike your lip- genuinely busted."
"Uh-huh."
"I just thought we could watch-"
"Oh god please don't say Netflix and chill."
I laughed. "Come on now. My game is better than that."
Her lips fell apart.
"Not that I'm playing games." Shit. "I just meant that I've got this movie I haven’t seen, and it's been a long day for both of us- especially you- and I'll sleep better if I know you're safe and-"
"Stop rambling," she said. "What movie?"
I walked across the room and pulled a DVD off the shelf, studying the front as I carried it over to her. "Izzy brought it last time she visited. It's one of those B horror movies about a bunch of sorority girls who accidently kill one of their sisters."
She took the DVD and examined the front and back.
I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her dark eyes dart back and forth as she studied the praise the film had received from a bunch of fake entertainment magazines.
"It looks brilliant," she said.
I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah?"
"Totally. Plus, Izzy has exquisite taste in films."
I laughed.
"And the truth is I’d love to stay," she said. "It's really decent of you to offer, and you're right. I'd rather not be on my own tonight."
Chapter 9: Andi
Twenty four hours ago, I thought I'd be waking up next to Mike.
Not that I was terribly disappointed.
To say he was a bed hog would be a huge understatement. Every morning, he'd be sprawled out on his back like he'd been making naked snow angels all night.
Meanwhile, I'd be lying along the edge of the bed, clutching the covers because he always kept his place so cold- him being a human sweater and all.
But he'd always pull me close as soon as he woke up and noticed his morning wood, which isn't to say he wasn't sweet in the mornings, because he was. It was the nights where he'd forget himself like a real life Jekyll and Hyde.
For a while, I really believed I could help him change. I thought my sunny disposition could keep him from giving into his demons, of which he had many. But I was being naive.
He was always going to be skeptical and slow to trust, always going to believe the world was out to get him.
And that fact alone made us incompatible.
After all, I tended to give people the benefit of the doubt and believed deep down that most people were inherently good.
Perhaps that's why so much time in his company made me forget myself.
But it was all over.
I could start again this morning with a clean slate, and as soon as my lip and bruises healed, my relationship with him would be a thing of the past. A mistake, certainly, but one I had every intention of learning from.
And the knowledge that it was over was the most freeing feeling in the world. It felt as if my heart had sprouted little wings and was fluttering weightless in my chest.
And I knew I had Shane to thank for that.
The first time I woke up was around five thirty. It took me a second to remember where I was- probably cause I'd never been horizontal in Shane's room before.
We used to sleep together all the time when we were kids. He and Izzy and I would have sleepovers in their basement on the pullout couch, each with our own blanket curled up around us as we watched movies.
Izzy always took the middle, though, partly because it seemed like the most natural arrangement and partly because she liked holding the popcorn. And even back then, I already knew those were the greatest nights of my life.
How would I ever be able to top the kind of energetic, safe fun we used to have together?
Thank god I appreciated it while it lasted.
Because obviously once we were teenagers, not only did we not fit comfortably on the pullout anymore, but there was no longer a sleeping arrangement that everyone was comfortable with. Not that a discussion was ever required.
Shane just kind of opted out when he realized he preferred the company of boys and video games.
So Izzy and I were left to our own devices, which was fine… except that was when Shane started to intrigue me in a way he never had.
I watched from a distance as his interests changed along with the shape of his jaw and the fit of his clothes. I watched my silly childhood friend become a handsome man and struggled to pretend I was as disinterested in his development as Izzy.
Not that she and I didn't have our own shit to deal with.
I hated getting boobs, hated the way my hips turned out and used to bang into things. Even worse, there were a few years where my emotions felt like they were being controlled by an amateur puppeteer, and there was no telling when I might lose my cool.
What’s more, I was convinced that my overprotective mother was out to completely ruin my life at the time, which just proves in hindsight how entirely off my rocker I was.
And the whole time I wished I could be more like Shane, who seemed to be getting cooler by the day while I was just getting crazier in seemingly direct correlation to how frequently I suffered breakouts.
Needless to say, when it came to nostalgia, it was those early years I missed most. Because things were simple. Things made sense. No one ever wanted anything from me.
Best of all, I got to spend every day with Shane and Izzy under the naive pretense that things would never change.
But of course they had.
And nothing was more a reminder of that than the sight I woke up to at five thirty a.m.
Shane was beside me, sleeping on his stomach, with his strong arms bent out to the sides and his hands under the pillow. But that wasn't what most intrigued me about him.
First of all, he was sleeping with his mouth shut- something Mike rarely did. I stared at his lips for a moment and recalled how he'd touched them to mine, recalled the inappropriate way my body felt when he did it.
There was just enough soft light squeezing in through the blinds behind the bed that I could admire how youthful his chiseled face looked at rest.
I kept my breathing steady as my eyes traveled down his body. His back was smooth and bare, and his relaxed muscles caused a rolling landscape that was more gorgeous than any I'd ever seen.
I wondered what it would feel like to sink my fingernails into his back and feel his muscles flexing under my palms as he moved over me, in me, his hot whispers against my ear.
The thought alone made a burning flush travel from my stomach up to my cheeks.
Finally, my eyes settled on the sheets that lay over his ass. They were just high enough that I could see the curve of his butt where it met his lower back but nothing more.
Part of me wanted to lift the sheet so I could see if he was naked, but I knew knowing wouldn't make it any easier to lie there beside him.
Lifting the sheets would only blow my cover.
After all, the fact that I’d been head over heels for him since the day he taught me how to take a bunch of willow tree branches in my hand and swing back and forth like Tarzan was my best kept secret.
Besides, I knew better than to want what I couldn’t have.
Chapter 10: Shane
I felt like such a jackass leaving her there.
The last thing I wanted was her waking up at the frat house by herself and thinking I'd abandoned her.
Which struck me as funny since I slipped out in the morning without waking girls all the time and never thought twice about it before.
But for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want to miss Andi's sleepy morning face, didn’t want to miss the first scratchy word out of her mouth.
And of course I was curious to see how she looked in my t-shirt without a bra on underneath because I'd been thinking about her tits on and off since she started hiding them from me a decade ago.
Not that I could help it.
Frankly, I couldn’t see how any man who was ever lucky enough to see the sparkle in her dark eyes or the way her slightly lopsided smile lit up her face wouldn't want to see more of her. Or everything.
Regardless, I didn't have much choice.
I may have been a jackass for leaving her, but I would've been an even bigger jackass if I'd blown off charity duty.
Not only had I not missed a game in the last three years, but I enjoyed it.