My Boyfriend's Best Friend

by Pixie Perkins

  So I take a deep breath and tell her everything.

  Except the parts about Derek (as guilty as I feel) and surprisingly I’m able to do it without crying, which is a miracle.

  “Oh, Brittany, I’m so sorry.” She clicks her tongue. “No wonder you weren’t happy when you came home.”

  “Yeah…” I trail off. “I didn’t mean to seem short with you, sorry.”

  She stands and pulls me up by my hands before hugging me. “Just remember, sweetie…I know it might hurt now, but it won’t be so bad afterward.” She pulls away and smiles. “Okay?”

  I smile back. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” She nods in approval. “Now, I want you to get the picture of Blake—the one that’s on your nightstand and meet me in the basement.”

  “Huh?” My eyebrows crease. “Why?”

  She gives me a mischievous grin. “You’ll see.”

  Then she leaves the room and I hear her walking down the stairs as I turn to my nightstand and pick up the frame holding a close-up of Blake in his basketball uniform.

  What does she want it for?

  I shrug and take the picture out of its frame, then set the frame on my bed before jogging down the stairs two at a time and taking the steps down into the basement.

  The basement is more like a rec room. My brother Zach spent a lot of time down here before he left for college. It has a pool table, a huge plasma TV, video games, board games, movies, surround sound, a mini kitchen, an air hockey table, couches, beanbags, dart boards, a computer…in short, basically a bunch of cool stuff.

  “Ah!” Mom exclaims upon seeing me. “There you are. Do you have the picture?”

  I nod. “Yeah, but—”

  “Uh-uh,” she says, putting a finger up, “the picture please.”

  Still confused, I hand her the picture. “Here you go.”

  She smiles as if I just gave her a million dollars, then walks over to one of the two dartboards hanging on the main wall and pins his picture smack-dab in the middle of the board.

  My mouth drops. “Mom, no—”

  “Oh, why not?” She turns around. “That’s what I did with my ex-boyfriends’ pictures.”

  “Ex-boyfriends?” I repeat in surprise before putting my hands on my hips. “Just how many exes have you had?”

  “Oh…” She grabs a few darts. “Not many, maybe five?”

  “Five?” My hands drop. “You’ve had five ex-boyfriends?”

  “Those were only the ones that I broke up with.” She waves me off. “The ones that broke up with me were probably only about three.”

  I shake my head. “I had no idea that you were such a heartbreaker.”

  “What can I say?” She shrugs. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Not too long ago,” I tease her, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “Yes, too long ago.” She holds out her hand. “Go ahead.”

  I hesitate before snatching up one of the darts.

  She smiles. “Attagirl.”

  I barely return the smile as I turn my attention to the board, to the bull’s eye, to Blake.

  I slowly finger the dart.

  “It’s not a personal thing, Britt…”

  “Have some change…”

  “See different people…”

  I lift my arm up and throw the dart—hard.

  Then I sigh when it misses the picture by a few inches.

  “You were close,” Mom assures me. “Try again.”

  I take another dart from her hand and purse my lips as I study the dartboard.

  Focus, focus—focus on that great nose of his.

  No!

  His eyes.

  No, forget that!

  Throw it!

  So I do, and the dart lands right above his head.

  My shoulders drop.

  I can’t even throw a flippin’ dart right.

  Mom hands me the last dart. “Third time’s a charm.”

  “Let’s hope so,” I mutter as I hold it up.

  I stare at the picture intently. I can do this.

  I throw the dart and toss my arms up in exasperation when it misses. “Stupid darts!”

  “You can try again and—”

  “No, Mom.” I sigh. “Thanks, but forget it…darts have never been my thing anyway.”

  She walks over to the dartboard and pulls the darts out before walking back to where I am.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as she holds up one of the darts.

  “What do you think?” She gives me a “duh” look. “I’m going to throw it!”And she does, and of course the dart hits Blake right in the nose—causing her to punch the air in victory. “Yes!”

  Great…

  Chapter 5: Just Like That

  ——————————————————

  After dinner, I find myself biting my lip as I stare at my phone.

  To call Derek, or to not call Derek.

  To text him, or to not text him.

  I toss it aside on my bed and groan in frustration as I flop backward into my pillows.

  I can’t tell him no and I can’t go through with it.

  What am I going to do?

  My phone rings and I scramble to sit up before grabbing it.

  I sigh when I see that it’s Derek, but press the “accept” option before I can change my mind.

  “Hello?”

  “Britt?”

  “Yeah,” I reply lamely. “It’s me.”

  “You okay? You sound—”

  “I’m fine,” I don’t hesitate in answering. “But, um, there’s—”

  “I guess you’re wondering how everything’s going to play out, am I right?”

  “Well that’s the thing—”

  “Don’t worry, I have everything figured out.”

  He sounds so sure, certain…excited even.

  It’s as if he’s not worried at all, which is almost frustrating.

  “Uh, Britt…you still there?”

  No.

  “Yes, I’m still here.” I run a hand through my hair. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Well, if we jump right into being boyfriend and girlfriend it’ll probably seem…fake.”

  “But it is fake,” I point out.

  That’s one of the main reasons that I even allowed myself to agree to this in the first place.

  “Right, but no one else knows that and no one will know that.”

  I nod even though he can’t see me. “Right.”

  “Not even Del or Liv.”

  I sigh. “Not even Del or Liv.”

  “Now, Blake’s going to be suspicious at first and he’ll confront me.”

  “Confront you?” My eyebrows crease. “But not, like—like in an aggressive way…right?”

  I can’t even imagine Blake getting into a fight with him.

  “There’s a good chance, but don’t worry—”

  “Don’t worry?!” I echo in disbelief. “You know what? This isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to ruin your friendship with Blake.”

  “Britt, it won’t…trust me. After I talk, fight, whatever with him…he’ll be sore, upset, mad.”

  I wince at the thought, I’ve only seen Blake really mad once and it wasn’t pretty.

  “Then he’ll go to you.”

  “Me?” I ask in surprise. “Why me?”

  “’cause you’re his ex-girlfriend.”

  “Oh, right,” I reply, feeling somewhat stupid, “his ex-girlfriend.”

  As weird as it may sound, I still consider him my boyfriend…even if it’s just in my head.

  “He’ll probably say some things that he won’t mean, so don’t take them personally.”

  I grip the phone tighter. “Like what kind of things?”

  “Relax, Britt,” he says in a gentle tone, probably noticing the change in my voice, “don’t worry…it won’t be that bad.”

  I loosen my grip some. “Really?”

  “Yes, he might yell at you, but—”

  My grip t
ightens again. “Yell at me?”

  I can’t, I won’t.

  Blake yelling at me, hating me—

  “Britt,” he interrupts my thoughts, “I’m just trying to tell you the truth…to prepare you.”

  I close my eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, don’t worry…but before that happens, I’ll tell you what to say.”

  I open my eyes. “But how—”

  “Doesn’t matter how,” he cuts me short. “Just trust me.”

  “All right…I trust you.”

  “Okay, hey, I have to go—I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

  “Derek wa—” The line suddenly goes dead. “Ugh!”

  I turn the screen off and toss my phone aside again.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  If only the girls knew. And Mom. Dad. Zach. Blake.

  If anyone knew for that matter!

  I pick up a fluffy pillow ready to throw it at the wall when there’s a knock at the door.

  Down goes the pillow. “Who is it?”

  “Mom.”

  “Come in.”

  The door opens and she pops her head in. “We’re going to watch a movie, would you like to join us?”

  “On a school night?” I ask in mock surprise.

  She shrugs. “I’ll make an exception.”

  “Okay,” I agree, getting off my bed. “Did you tell Dad by the way?”

  “Did you want me to?”

  I nod, that would’ve been an awkward conversation with him.

  She smiles. “Well then yes, yes I did. But for your sake, I didn’t give him all the messy details.”

  I sigh in gratitude. “You are the best, you know that?”

  “It comes naturally, I’ll see you downstairs.”

  “All right,” I say as she starts to leave. “Hey, what are we watching?”

  She gives me a mischievous look. “What do you think?”

  I can’t help but smile…poor Dad, he hates musicals.

  Especially musicals about teen drama.

  ——————

  The next morning I’m drumming my fingers on my steering wheel, debating if I should get out of the car.

  I could always go home and have Mom call in sick for me.

  Perfect!

  Just as I am about to pull out of the parking space though, someone knocks on my driver’s window—or some guy I should say, more specifically: Derek.

  I roll down the window some. “Hi.”

  He smiles. “Hey.”

  “What’s up?”

  This is so awkward…

  “Nothing much.” He shrugs. “So, are you getting out?”

  “Yes, of course!” I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Am I getting out? Please.”

  I mentally sigh, so much for my perfect plan.

  I grab my backpack, roll the window up and turn the car off before waiting for him to move so I can open the door.

  As if reading my mind, he steps aside and I get out, closing my door and locking the car.

  “Sorry about cutting our conversation short last night by the way.”

  “Yeah.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “No biggie…so—”

  “When do you want to start?”

  I gulp, because I wasn’t expecting that. “Um, I—I really don’t know…”

  What I really want to say is: “This is too weird…can we maybe, like, not do this?”

  The words don’t even make it to my mouth though.

  “Well, let’s see how today goes…I’ll see you later.”

  And then he’s gone, just like that.

  “Bye to you too!” I exclaim with heavy sarcasm.

  “Who are you talking to?” a familiar voice asks from behind me.

  I turn around to see Delanie with her arms crossed.

  “Del!” I let out an awkward laugh. “Hey! I was just…no one.”

  She eyes me suspiciously. “Were you talking to Sheila?”

  I blush at that because “Sheila” was (emphasis on was) my imaginary friend when I was like five.

  Don’t ask why, I have no clue.

  “Of course not,” I hiss as I look around. “And don’t talk about that in public!”

  With an evil glint in her eyes, she proceeds to sing, “Oh, Sheila? Where, oh where are—”

  “Del!” I exclaim, cutting her singing short. “Shush!”

  “Come on.” She rolls her eyes. “We’ll be late for class.”

  I sigh and we start walking toward the main building.

  Once we’re inside—it’s complete chaos.

  People chattering, yelling, laughing plus making out—which will end once the hall monitor shows up.

  “Hey, Delly-baby,” a random guy with beach-blond messy hair and blue eyes greets her. “What’s up, girl?”

  “Todd, get a life,” Delanie replies, clearly unimpressed and annoyed.

  “Who’s Todd?” I tease as we walk past him.

  “Ugh, he’s nobody. Well, he’s somebody, but nobody important.” She sighs. “Let’s just act like we didn’t even see him, ‘kay?”

  “Wha—”

  “Oh my goodness, Brittany!” a curly, black-haired girl exclaims coming toward us. “I just heard about you and Blake, I’m so sorry.”

  I will not cry. I will not cry.

  “Who told you?” I force myself to ask.

  I have a feeling that I already know who, but it doesn’t kill to double check.

  “Oh, it was Gwen!” she replies with a bob of her head. “You know…Gwen Shapiro?”

  Gwen Shapiro (also known as the biggest gossip in school) is the first to report any news.

  Maybe Blake told her. No…it was probably Savannah.

  Delanie rolls her eyes. “Who doesn’t know Gwen Shapiro?”

  If Gwen’s brown-eyed follower picks up on Delanie’s retort, she doesn’t show it.

  “Well…” She flashes us a bright smile. “See ya later!”

  Delanie huffs as the girl walks past us and then Del leaves me to go to her locker, I guess. That or she’s going to meet some guy.

  I, however, have to avoid/ignore the stares and whispering as I walk to my locker, because everybody is clearly talking about me.

  Once I reach my locker, I unlock it and open the door.

  Unfortunately, Delanie and Liv’s’ lockers are nowhere near mine.

  What’s even more unfortunate though, is Blake’s locker…is right next to mine.

  I should’ve just played sick.

  Blake opens his locker as if I’m not even there and I instantly regret taping pictures of us on the inside of my locker door.

  How embarrassing. I’m so pathetic.

  Thankfully, he closes his locker door and leaves, causing me to sigh in relief as I pull my math books out.

  It’s going to be a long day.

  ——————

  By lunch, at least fifteen people have come up to me and said how shocked and sorry they were.

  I just want to burst! But I have to settle with getting through lunch.

  Strangely enough, Blake and whatever-her-name-is are nowhere in sight…and for that, I’m grateful.

  Moving down the lunch line, I grab a fruit cup and set it on my tray.

  “How ya holding up?”

  I jump and nearly fling my tray up. “Derek! You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” he doesn’t hesitate in apologizing, “wasn’t intentional.”

  I give him a disbelieving look and reach to get some macaroni salad.

  “Don’t,” Derek warns. “It has olives in it.”

  I stare at him in surprise. “How do you know that I don’t like olives?”

  “Try the chicken salad on rye instead,” he says, ignoring my question. “Or better yet, ditch cafeteria food and have lunch with me.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Come on.” He crosses his arms. “Tell me you’re not
dying under all the scrutiny.”

  “It’s terrible,” I mutter under my breath. “I haven’t had a break all morning.”

  “So,” he drawls, “let’s go.”

  Why am I so easily swayed?

  I bite my lower lip and then put the fruit cup back.

  “Attagirl, leave the tray there.”

  So I do.

  He grabs my hand, then gently tugs it and I follow him.

  Oh, Del and Liv are going to kill me.

  Chapter 6: You’re With Me

  ——————————————————

  “So this girl you want to impress,” I say, stirring my iced tea, “I know her?”

  Derek nods before eating a French fry. “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, who is she?”

  “Uh-uh.” He shakes his head. “It’s a secret.”

  “That’s not fair!” I pout, crossing my arms. “I’m helping you—I should be able to know!”

  “And I’m helping you,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone, “we’re even.”

  “Hardly,” I grumble as I dip a fry in my ketchup.

  I eat my fry as he coats the tip of a French fry in his mustard, causing me to wrinkle my nose. “My brother does the same thing.”

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah,” I reply with creased eyebrows. “You remember his name?”

  He nods and eats another fry.

  I don’t even know if Derek and Zach have seen each other before, so naturally…I’m surprised.

  “You miss him?”

  I look up. “Who? Zach?”

  “No, your fourth grade teacher,” he says with a sarcastic drawl. “Yes, Zach.”

  “Oh.” I dip another fry in my ketchup. “Yeah, I miss him. The last time I saw him was on a weekend last month.”

  “That must be tough,” he comments thoughtfully, “having him so far away.”

  “Nah, he’s not that far. Just busy with school and work…” I bite off the tip of my fry. “Girls.”

  “Ah.” He eats a fry. “I can see why he’s busy.”

  “Yeah…he doesn’t even know about Blake and me. I don’t really know how to tell him.”

  I eat the rest of the fry. “And as pathetic as it sounds, I had my mom tell my dad.”

  He pauses in his eating and looks at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Britt.”