Just Friends, Page 2

  Is this how she’s spent her summer? Drinking and getting high with her so-called new friends?

  “I’ve lost weight.” Em does a little twirl, clad in the same lime green bikini I saw her wearing in that one photo on Instagram. “It’s my new diet of weed and vodka. Keeps me skinny.” She bursts out laughing and rests her hand on her hip. I can actually see her hipbone jutting out, the bikini bottom rides so low, and she’s so thin. “Come out back. There’s people I want you to meet.”

  “Where are your mom and dad?” I ask as she takes my hand and drags me through the giant, airy house. We may live in the same neighborhood, but her house is huge and ours is…normal. And boring.

  I practically trip over my flip-flops as I follow after her. I can hear music playing outside, one of those annoying songs that was on constant rotation all summer. And I hear water splashing too, like someone’s in the pool. Lots of someones, maybe. Is she having a party? Oh God…is Dustin here?

  My heart starts to pound and I swallow hard, wishing I would’ve at least changed my clothes before I came over. Slipped on a bikini. Anything to look cute, to look good for…who? Dustin?

  Yeah. Definitely Dustin.

  I can’t believe I’m thinking like this.

  Em stops in front of the French doors that lead outside and turns to face me, jerking on my hand so I’m standing close to her. So close my nose wrinkles as the pungent scent of marijuana washes over me. I can only hope it doesn’t cling to my clothes. And if it does, that Mom won’t notice when I get back home.

  “I want you to meet Ryan,” Em says, her voice low and smoky. She sounds completely different, like we’re co-conspirators sharing a major secret. Something we’ve done a time or twenty during our friendship. But this one feels…bigger than the rest. “He just moved in down the street and he’s, well…we’ve been…”

  I raise a brow. “Hooking up?”

  “Livvy!” She smacks my arm, making me wince. “Shut your mouth. I was going to say we’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  Is that code for hooking up? “Dustin already told me.”

  “Oh.” The irritation flitting across her face is clear. “He has such a big mouth. I told him to be quiet. I wanted to be the one who told you.”

  Unease creeps over me. Was she purposely keeping Ryan a secret? How weird. “I saw him in your pics on Instagram and Snapchat.”

  She waves a hand, dismissing my words. “The Snapchat thing…that was for fun. And I was just showing off on Instagram. Everyone shows off there.”

  True. “So you’re not hooking up with Ryan?”

  The smile curving her lips is coy. Secretive. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Right. She so is. “You spent a lot of time with Dustin too,” I point out, sounding like a jealous bitch, but I can’t help it.

  “Ew, no. He only has eyes for you.” With that startling remark, she throws open the doors and grabs my hand, dragging me out toward the pool. “Look who I found!” she calls “It’s Liv! She’s finally home!”

  They really don’t care. Barely anyone looks in our direction. There are a few kids I recognize from school swimming in the pool, groups of girls hanging out on the lounge chairs wearing the skimpiest bikinis I’ve ever seen. Girls I barely know, have said hi to in the halls maybe a handful of times.

  What is Em doing, inviting them here? Not like she’s friends with any of them…

  I spot Dustin on the diving board, a giant grin on his familiar face when he sees me. I smile back like I can’t help myself, taking in his classically handsome features, the way his warm brown eyes sparkle. He throws one hand up in the air in a wave before he hurls his long body into the water in a perfect flip.

  Such a show off.

  “So you’re the infamous Liv. You really do exist.”

  The deep, even voice coming from behind me makes me whirl around, my lips parted like I’m ready to speak. But the second I catch a glimpse, it’s like all those words dried up in my throat. It’s him. The boy from the photos. And he’s even better looking in person, which is saying a lot.

  My brain scrambles as I try to come up with the right thing to say. He just stands there, clad in blue swim trunks that hang dangerously low on his hips, acres of golden skin on display. Droplets of water cling to his arms and chest and I watch one wind a path down his flat stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trunks.

  The words finally fall from my lips like I have no control over them. “And here I thought you were an actor Em rented for the summer to pretend to be her boyfriend.”

  His smile is slow. And wow, it ends up a powerful, knock me on my ass grin. Thrusting his hand out toward me, he says, “I’m Ryan.”

  “So formal.” I take his hand and shake it, trying to ignore the buzz of electricity that flows from my palm to his. “Olivia.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he says with a slight bow, his amused tone making me laugh. He holds onto my hand for a moment too long and I snatch it away from him, rubbing my fingers against my palm, trying to get rid of the sparks that still remain on my skin.

  Ryan continues to stand in front of me, his smile still firmly in place, damp golden brown hair waving around his face. He’s pushed sunglasses up onto his head and that allows me to finally discover his eye color.

  Green. Rich, deep green like a mysterious forest.

  I can’t stop staring at him and he can’t seem to stop looking at me either. I drop my gaze from his, but that feels like a mistake. His chest is like a work of art. Tanned, smooth skin stretched over lean muscle. It’s obvious I’m checking him out, but I don’t even care.

  He doesn’t call me out on it either. I think he likes that my gaze is roaming over every inch of him. And I have a feeling he’s doing the same to me, despite my being the most overdressed girl here.

  Okay, this is totally weird. I need to get away from him before the situation gets super awkward.

  “Livvy!” Strong arms wrap around me from behind and a wet, warm body presses up against me. I recognize the body, the voice, his scent immediately.

  Dustin.

  He presses his cheek against mine for a quick second before he dips his head and kisses my neck, his lips cold against my skin. A shiver moves through me and I playfully shove him off of me, rubbing my cheek against my shoulder, my now-wet clothes clingy and most likely unflattering. “You made me wet,” I grumble.

  “That’s what she said,” Ryan adds, and both boys laugh.

  My cheeks are on fire and I look around for Em, who’s nowhere to be found. Oh, there she is, over by the diving board, taking a swig out of someone’s beer bottle before handing it back to him. He’s big, tall and broad with blond hair and I recognize him as one of the football players from school. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, laughing extra loud when he says something to her.

  I frown. I’ve never seen her like this before.

  Dustin takes a step closer to me, his arm nudging mine, and I glance up at him.

  “Where are Lou and Cindy?” I ask, referring to Em’s parents.

  He shrugs, shakes his head and scatters water droplets like a dog, some of them hitting me. “They went on vacation a few days ago.”

  “Without Emily?” I’m shocked. They always go on a couple of family vacations every year. It used to be the highlight of her summer.

  “She didn’t want to go on this particular one since they’re visiting her sister in Virginia, so they let her stay alone.” Em has never liked her older sister. There’s a ten-year difference between them and they have zero in common. “They won’t be home for another three days. It’s full blown party time.”

  The smile Dustin sends my way makes my knees melt. He’s such a good-looking guy, what with his dark hair and equally dark eyes. He has a good body too, though his isn’t as developed as Ryan’s. Dustin’s taller, though, well over six feet and he’s on the basketball team at school.

  And when he looks at me like this, I can feel that crackling chemistr
y between us. It draws me to him, makes me want more despite my fears. But what I have with Dustin is also warm and comfortable. I trust him. There’s definitely an attraction between us, but I’m also afraid if we jumped into a relationship, we’d ruin our friendship in the process.

  There would be no going back.

  I shouldn’t even worry about boys right now. My next goal is to graduate high school and get into a good college. Preferably one out of state and far away from here. And when I say out of state, I don’t necessarily mean Oregon. Dad is dying for me to become a University of Oregon Duck.

  If I can get down to southern California, I’d be happy. I want to get out of this valley, out of this hot city that will lead me nowhere. Growing up in central California, I’ve always felt like there’s nothing here. We live in the suburbs, we go to the best high school in the school district and my neighborhood is pretty upscale, but yeah.

  I’m desperate to get out of here.

  “You met Ryan already.” Dustin pauses. “What do you think?”

  “He seems nice.”

  The disgusted look that crosses Dustin’s face takes me by surprise. “Seriously?”

  “What? Do you not like him?” Dustin pretty much likes everyone, or so I thought.

  “Who does Dustin not like?” Ryan magically appears, moving closer so he’s standing with us, on the other side of me.

  I wave a hand, hoping he didn’t hear what we said. “No one. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Well, it certainly can’t be you,” Ryan says, his voice warm. “I think Dustin’s ready to stake his claim with you.”

  Oh boy. This is strange. “No one can stake a claim. I’m not claimable.” Is that even a word?

  “Well, if he’s not going to claim you, I’d like to try.” Ryan flashes me a devastating grin. “You’re everything Em described.”

  My stomach fizzes with nerves at the way Ryan watches me. “And how did Em describe me?”

  “Redhead.” He steps closer and gently tugs on a strand of my hair. “Freckles.” He taps the tip of my nose with his index finger. “Pretty.”

  My cheeks are warm all over again. He shouldn’t flirt with me. Even if he’s just hooking up with her, he clearly belongs to Em.

  “Livvy’s gorgeous.” Dustin slings his arm around my shoulders and wraps it around my neck, tugging me close to him. I have no choice but to go, wondering at the possessive way he’s acting. Like he wants to prove something to Ryan. “She just doesn’t realize it yet.”

  “Stop. I’m standing right here.” I lightly jab Dustin in the stomach with my elbow, making him grunt, his arm loosening around my neck. I step out of his hold and Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

  The glare Dustin sends him is murderous, the tension between them palpable.

  Something’s going on between these two. And I don’t like it.

  You should come over and spend the night.

  The text came from Em about thirty minutes ago and I still haven’t responded. I know for a fact Mom won’t let me go over there tonight and I also know Em will be persistent in trying to convince me to come over.

  I can’t win.

  I was eating dinner when I received her text. I went to check it, but Mom cleared her throat, her gaze sharp as she watched me. I shoved my phone into the pocket of my denim shorts and smiled politely at her new boyfriend, Fitch.

  His name sounds like it belongs to a pet, not a man, but whatever. He makes loving eyes at my mother and praises her cooking—which is just mediocre if you ask me—and earlier I saw him grab her ass in the kitchen. She swatted his hand away with a potholder and he just laughed, pulled her in close before laying one on her.

  I looked away and made myself scarce. It felt like I was prying in on a private moment.

  The dinner conversation had been strained between all three of us. I tried my best and kept saying I was tired when Mom asked me what was wrong. It was a better excuse than telling Mom her new boyfriend was sort of boring. That would only hurt her feelings.

  I’m cleaning the kitchen when I finally decide to pause and answer Em.

  Can’t come over. Mom wants me to stay home tonight.

  I send off the text, but mere seconds later Em’s responding.

  Forget your mother! I need you!

  Lots of crying emojis follow this proclamation.

  Sighing, I shove my phone back into my pocket and resume wiping down the granite countertops, careful to not leave any streaks. After the divorce, Mom had the kitchen remodeled, the entire house repainted, and she replaced her bedroom furniture too. Every last scrap of it right down to getting rid of the mattress, and it hadn’t been that old to begin with.

  “I’m purging,” she’d told me with a gentle smile and a hostile gleam in her eye. “Getting rid of all that bad juju.”

  She’d never talked of bad juju before so I knew she was full of it, even when I was eleven. Adults don’t think we’re paying attention, but we so are. They also believe we don’t understand what’s going on, but that’s a lie they tell themselves to feel better about their decisions.

  I knew Dad had cheated on her, had overheard one of their raging fights late at night, long after they thought I’d gone to bed. Tears streaking down my cheeks as I clutched one of my stuffed animals close, listening to them scream accusations at each other.

  Dad called her a cold, unfeeling bitch who withheld sex on purpose. Mom called him a cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

  I’m pretty sure they were both fairly close in their assessments of each other back then, now that I look at things, see the past through my seventeen-year-old clear-as-can-be eyes versus my younger self’s rose-colored glasses. Mom loves to reference those stupid rose-colored glasses, especially when talking about Dad.

  “After I took those rose-colored glasses off, I finally saw the reality of my situation. And at that one particular moment, Olivia, my life was a world of shit,” she’s told me more than once.

  Did I mention Mom is a bit of a drama queen sometimes?

  My butt buzzes and I pull my phone out, reading the new text from Em.

  Don’t ignore me bitch. Dustin wants you here. He’s DYING to see you.

  It’s like she’s trying to tempt me, though she doesn’t know about Dustin and me. That’s another thing I’m afraid of—Em’s disapproval if Dustin and I really got together. I think she’d be jealous. I think she’d be upset and accuse us of leaving her out, which would never be my intention.

  It’s best I avoid them tonight, even though I’d love to see Dustin. I’m tired and afraid I might do or say something stupid.

  But I also need to respond to Em’s insistent texts.

  I can’t come over. Maybe tomorrow?

  The phone rings in my hand, startling me. Emily’s name flashes across the screen, the vibrating phone making my skin tingle. I slide the green button and slowly bring the phone to my ear, offering a tentative, “Are you sick? Why are you calling me?”

  “I am sick. Sick of being without my Livvy!” I pull the phone away from my ear when she screams into it. “Come on, your mom will let you come over. It’s me! I’m harmless.”

  Right now she’s as harmless as a rattlesnake ready to strike. I’m pretty sure the girl is drunk and stoned and it might not be safe that she’s staying home alone. Though from the background noise, I can only assume people are there. She said Dustin is.

  “You’re not harmless,” I finally tell her as I turn on the water at the sink and rinse the rag I’d been using. “You’re crazed right now.”

  She giggles. “Isn’t it great? I almost did a strip tease for Ryan earlier in the pool house.”

  I go still. “Haven’t you already done that?”

  Her giggles fade. “Oh, we’ve messed around for a little bit, but nothing serious. He hasn’t seen me naked or anything.”

  Why does this make me feel better? “Really?”

  “Really. We’re just friends.” Her voice drops. “Thoug
h I guess I’m the sort of friend who gives blowjobs. Who knew?”

  Her laughter is incredibly loud and I wince. “You actually gave him a BJ?”

  “Don’t be such a priss. I can’t help it if you’ve never done anything.”

  I clamp my lips shut. I won’t tell her about Dustin. Not over the phone. I should tell her in person, but I don’t even want to admit it to…anyone. Not yet. It feels too soon.

  Sighing, I’m determined to not give in. “I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”

  “Livvy…”

  “Tomorrow,” I say again firmly. “Bye, Em.”

  I hang up before she can say anything more.

  I don’t make it over to Em’s house until midafternoon the next day and I figure she’s mad at me. I texted that I was coming over a while ago and she never replied, though the message said read beneath it.

  Meaning she’s not answering me on purpose.

  So I let her be pissed, figuring she’ll get over it soon enough. When I show up at her house, no one answers the door, though it was unlocked. I enter the house and look around, figuring that everybody is out by the pool once again. The place is a mess, especially the giant kitchen. There’s half eaten food covering the marble countertops, empty liquor bottles stacked in the farmhouse sink, along with beer bottles and cans. Two liters without the caps on them—so the soda was probably already flat—sat near the giant stainless steel fridge and there are open bags of chips everywhere.

  Shaking my head, I survey all the damage. I know I’m going to be stuck helping her clean up. It’s what I do. Dustin and me, we’re always bailing Em out of some sort of mess.

  Frustrated, I head upstairs to drop off my bag in her room before I go outside. The door is partially closed, but I think nothing of it.

  Imagine my surprise when I push the door open to find Em and Ryan sitting on the edge of the bed, their mouths fused, her arms wound around his neck and his hand on her boob.

  “Ohmigod, sorry!” I squeak, dropping my bag on the floor with a loud thud before I start to hightail it out of there. Ryan’s hand falls from her chest and Em shoves him away, leaping to her feet to come toward me.