“Yeah…” I dunk another fry in my ketchup. “It sucks. My mom has been really cool about it though. She even managed to get me laughing some.”
“Well,” he says before eating a fry, “your mom sounds pretty flippin’ great.”
“If you tell her that she’ll take you in as her own.” I laugh before sipping my iced tea.
He laughs too. “Can’t let that happen.”
I raise a curious eyebrow at him.
“Because you know—my family would miss me,” he says, dipping another fry in his mustard, “if you can believe that.”
I shake my head. “You’re strange, Derek.”
“I prefer the term ‘special’ or even ‘different’.” He bites the tip off the fry. “But not strange.”
“Okay.” I fold my arms in front of me. “You’re especially different. Better?”
He grins. “Best.”
My phone suddenly buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket.
“It’s Liv.” I look up. “What should I tell her?”
“Nothing.” He holds his hand out. “Let me do it.”
I eye him suspiciously. “What are you—?”
“Nothing bad,” he assures me, “I promise.”
Even though I’m still a tad bit hesitant, I give my phone to him and he answers it. “I was wondering when you guys were going to call. We’re kind of in the middle of something though, so Britt will have to just call you back.”
He ends the call and hands the phone back to me. “There.”
As I take it and shove it back into my pocket, I’m pretty sure my eyes are one hundred times wider and that my cheeks are redder than the ketchup on my plate.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“You said you weren’t going to say anything bad!” I exclaim in disbelief.
His eyebrows crease. “I didn’t, I—”
“You didn’t?” I all-but-shriek. “Now Liv and Del are—”
My words are cut off by the once again buzzing of my phone.
I sigh, pulling it out of my pocket and ignore Derek’s puzzled face before “accepting” the call. “Hey, D—”
“Don’t ‘Hey, Del’ me!” Delanie cuts me off. “Who the heck answered your phone? And where are you?”
“I’m uh, that is, I’m…” I look to Derek for help, and he mouths “date.” My eyebrows immediately crease. “Date?”
Shoot.
“Date?!” she hisses. “With who? Britt, where are you? We’ll pick you up.”
“I’m fine, I’m with—” I stop when Derek quickly shakes his head. “Del, I have to go.”
“Britt! Do not think about hanging—”
I wince as I end the call.
“This was a bad idea,” I say, staring at the black screen of my phone. “They’re freaking out.”
“They need to relax, it’s not like you’re in trouble or anything…you’re with me.”
My head shoots up at that and I shove my phone back into my pocket.
Did he have to say that?
“Hey, you okay?”
I sigh. “Do I look okay?”
He just stares at me for a few seconds then starts eating, not answering my question.
Well, talk about weird…
I start stirring my tea, not sure what else to do.
After a few minutes of eating in silence, Derek checks his phone and then stands up. “Time to go.”
I nod before standing up too and once we get to the entrance door (or exit door, depending on if you’re entering or exiting) he pushes it open and says, “Ladies first.”
I can feel my cheeks turning red once more as I mumble, “Thanks.”
Why am I feeling so flippin’ awkward?
I walk out and Derek follows me, letting the door close behind him.
Then we awkwardly walk to his truck in silence.
One thing’s for sure, when we get back to school…it’s going to be interesting.
——————
“What are you doing?” I ask as Derek parks a block away from school.
“We,” he says, turning to me, “are going to keep the suspense up.”
My eyebrows crease. “Huh?”
He sighs. “You’re going to walk to your car and act like you just got out of it.”
“What?” I ask in what probably sounds like a whiny voice. “Why?”
I do not want to walk all that way.
“Just trust me, okay?”
His request is simple and short, yet…it’s asking a lot.
But, I just sigh as I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car, shutting the door after I step down.
Unbelievable, I’ll probably end up having blisters.
Please, no one see me…
My boots are not made for walking.
I make it to my car without being seen (hopefully anyway) and I casually unlock it…and even though it seems ridiculous, I get in and then rush to get out.
“The stupidest thing…” I grumble as I close and lock the door.
I walk toward the main building and once I’m inside, I go straight to my locker where, of course, Liv and Del are waiting for me.
“Where were you?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I wave them off. “I just went out for lunch, that’s all.”
“Britt,” Liv says, her tone gentle. “Who answered your phone?”
I unlock and open my locker door. “A guy.”
“No kidding, Britt.” Delanie rolls her eyes. “Who?”
I bite my lip, pulling my history books out. “No one.”
“Britt!” Delanie exclaims. “I can’t believe this, you’re keeping secrets from us!”
I look around then back at Del. “Keep it down, Del, plea—”
“Keep it down?” she hisses. “Brittany, since when do you keep secrets?”
Before I can reply, Liv beats me to it. “Del, I’m sure there’s a logical—”
“Logical-smogical,” Delanie cuts her off. “The reason is that she doesn’t trust us. Or, she just doesn’t want to tell us.”
“Del, it’s not like that.” I shake my head. “Trust me, it’s—”
“If it’s not, then what is it, Britt?” She raises an eyebrow. “Who were you with?”
Oh my gosh, I can’t do this. It’s too much pressure…
I exhale in frustration. “I was with—”
“She was with me.”
Chapter 7: That’s Going To Be Awkward
——————————————————
Derek drapes his arm over my shoulders as Delanie and Liv gape with wide eyes.
“Sorry about the wait,” he says, squeezing my shoulders some. “It’s a good thing I dropped you off first, parking was a nightmare.”
What the heck is he doing? And: “dropped me off”?
Please, my feet beg to differ.
I try to shrug his arm off but it doesn’t budge.
Stupid, strong biceps/triceps…
“Britt,” Liv drawls in a cautious voice. “What’s he talking about?”
“Well, I—”
“She decided, ‘Who-needs-Blake-when-I-can-have-Derek?’.” He looks at me. “Right, Britt?”
I just want to melt into the floor.
Why is he doing this to me?
“Britt?” Liv asks, looking at me with curiosity. “Is that true?”
“Right,” I manage in a weak voice. “I…have…Derek.”
My words sound choked—forced, I wouldn’t even believe them.
“Wait, wait, wait…” Delanie shakes her head. “You’re telling me that you’re dating Connors?”
“Don’t make it sound like it’s such a bad thing, Moore.” Derek sighs. “She could do a lot worse.”
This is terrible.
A nightmare!
“Derek.” I look up at him, trying not to scowl. “Can we talk in private…please?”
His arm drops with ease. “Sure thing.”
; I grab his hand and lead him to the library, then into an empty aisle.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, releasing his hand.
“What do you mean?”
I groan in frustration. “What happened to ‘not rushing in’ or ‘seeing how the day goes’?”
“It looked like you were having a hard time.” He shrugs. “So I thought I’d help out.”
“Help out?” I echo in disbelief. “That wasn’t helping! That was making the issue more complicated!”
“Hey, shh…” he shushes me, “this is a library.”
“I don’t care!” I snap. “None of this would even be happening if Blake hadn’t—”
I stop and sigh. “Never mind.”
Like I’m going to cry and complain in front of him, well…technically I’ve already complained; so, cry…and complain more.
“Hey, I’m sorry…I wasn’t trying to make you upset.” His cerulean eyes fill with remorse. “Honest, I wasn’t.”
Great, now I feel bad.
“It’s fine,” I say like it’s no big deal. “I shouldn’t get upset so easily.”
“You have every right to,” he replies, looking sincere, “especially considering what you went through yesterday, plus with me not giving you any sort of heads up today.”
“Maybe.” I sigh. “But let’s just forget about it…okay?”
He looks unsure, but nods. “Okay.”
“Good…” I trail off. “Now I just have to figure this whole thing out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” He shrugs. “We’re dating.”
I mentally cringe at his words.
Never in my life would I ever picture myself dating Derek…or even fake-dating him for that matter.
His eyebrows crease. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, hoping he buys it.
“So,” he drawls. “What next?”
“Oh my—class!” I gasp. “We’re going to be late!”
I half-run to my locker where the door is wide open, revealing all my “Blake-obsessiveness.”
With a huff, I close and lock the door before dashing off to class.
“You’re late, Miss Grayson.” Mrs. Kempton frowns at me once I’m inside of the classroom. “Detention.”
Oh shoot.
——————
“What do you mean you’re not going to be at cheerleading practice?” Liv asks as I put my science books away.
“Because,” I grunt. “I got detention.”
The last part comes out more like a mutter, and part of me hopes that she didn’t hear me.
“Detention?” Her amber eyes widen. “For what?”
“Being late,” I mumble while closing and locking my locker door. “Mrs. Kempton is awful.”
“I’ll explain to Coach if you want.”
I smile gratefully. “Could you?”
She doesn’t hesitate in nodding. “Sure, of course!”
“And thanks for talking to me.” I sigh with a bit of an eye-roll. “Seeing as Del is giving me the silent treatment.”
“Don’t worry about Delanie, it’ll blow over.” She looks at me with concern. “But are you sure you’re not rushing into another relationship too fast?”
“Blake did.” I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “Why can’t I?”
She bites her lower lip as if she wants to say something else, but just nods. “I guess you’re right. I’ll see you later…okay?”
“All right.”
Liv smiles a little and I watch her walk toward one of the exit doors.
She thinks I’m rushing into this with Derek and she doesn’t think I’m right about it—and I couldn’t agree with her more.
I’m still kicking myself for getting into this mess, and now detention? I’ve never gotten detention…ever.
I sigh as I trudge to the detention room. This is so unfair.
It’s not even my fault, it’s—
“You got detention too?” an all-too-familiar voice asks from behind me.
“Yes, Derek,” I say, turning around. “I got detent—” My eyes widen when I see him. “Your face!”
“What?” He shrugs. “I didn’t think it looked that bad.”
“What!” I shriek, staring at the discolored area near his eye. “Who did this to you?”
“Britt.” He sighs. “We talked about this yest—”
My hands fly to my mouth. “Blake did this?”
He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t—
“Brittany…”
“No, no, no!” I shake my head. “Why? Why would he—why aren’t you in the nurse’s office?”
He shrugs again. “Been.”
“Been?” I echo in disbelief. “Your face is bruised!”
“They can’t fix everything.”
“This is my fault,” I groan in frustration. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”
“Hey.” He takes a hold of my shoulders in a firm but gentle way. “It’s not your fault. I knew what would happen. I made the decision.”
“Only because I agreed,” I argue. “I shouldn’t have…I should have—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I’m glad you agreed, remember? You’re helping me.”
“Getting you beat up isn’t helping you,” I murmur. “It’s—”
“You are helping me,” he insists. “And I’m fine. Really…it’s not that bad.”
I purse my lips. “You’re just saying that so I don’t feel bad.”
“I’m not.” His hands drop and his facial expression becomes serious. “But there is something I should tell you.”
“What?” I ask in an almost exasperated voice. “What is it?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “We’re not the only ones going to be in detention.”
“What do you mean?” My eyebrows crease. “I didn’t say we were.”
“What I mean is…” he trails off before sighing. “Blake has detention too.”
I blink a couple of times while trying to process what he just said.
Blake has detention? And Derek? And me?
“Britt? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah…” I slowly nod. “That’s going to be awkward.”
Chapter 8: Can We Talk?
——————————————————
“I’m Ms. Winnows,” the blond detention teacher (who’s probably in her late twenties) says in a light, airy voice. “And welcome to detention!”
I blink.
She makes it sound like this is some kind of an exotic vacation.
I shoot a quizzical look at Derek who just grins, and something tells me that this isn’t his first time here in paradise.
And a quick glance around the room makes me realize that out of the six students in here, I’m the only girl…which makes me wonder if guys purposefully get detention so they can see Miss Winnows, because she basically looks like a flippin’ supermodel.
The classroom door opens and Blake walks in, causing me to awkwardly look anywhere but at him.
I fail miserably.
“Here, Teach,” he says, handing her his detention slip.
If only I could be anywhere but here…
She signs it, and then smiles as she hands it back to him. “Sit anywhere.”
He nods and walks over to the desk beside mine then sits down…that’s when I see that the side of his face is partially bruised like Derek’s is.
I stifle a gasp and quickly look away only to see Derek’s bruised face once again.
Seeing as I can’t win, I rest my head on the desk facedown…so that my hair is covering each side of my face.
Only I could get stuck sitting between my boyfriend—I mean ex-boyfriend, and my, well…Derek.
“Psst.”
I move my hair aside on my left and look at Derek. “What?”
“You okay?” he whispers, leaning in toward me.
“I’m fine,” I whisper back.
Yeah…okay, Britt.
&
nbsp; He looks unconvinced, but pulls back and sits upright again.
I sigh and peek at Blake, who has earbuds in while messing around on his phone.
Does he even feel bad for beating Derek up?
Even though, you know…Derek beat him up too.
Yeah.
Gosh, even bruised, he still looks good.
Ugh…why am I so pathetic?
“Psst.”
I sigh and turn my attention to Derek again. “What now?”
He gives me a: “You-know-what” face.
At that, I feel my cheeks heating up…just great, he totally saw me ogling over Blake.
I look away and suddenly the ceiling is fascinating.
“What are you looking at?” Derek hisses.
“The ceiling,” I reply in a wonderstruck voice.
He makes a sound that resembles a scoff mixed with a laugh and I look at him. “What’s so funny?”
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
I roll my hazel eyes and turn my attention to Miss Supermodel, who’s clacking away on her laptop.
Well, detention is definitely not what I thought it would be.
I mean, I was expecting a grumpy teacher in their fifties who makes you write essays or something; not one that lets you sit around and do…well, nothing.
Not that I deserve to be punished or anything, because I totally didn’t do anything wrong.
Mrs. Kempton just doesn’t like students…at all.
Seriously, she put her own niece in detention and practically failed her! If that’s not heartless, I don’t know what is.
I glance at Blake, who is still on his phone, then at Derek—who grins at me before turning his attention to his phone.
Okay, weird…
The rest of detention is boring, especially considering I couldn’t play on my phone ’cause—you know…I figured that wasn’t allowed, so I didn’t bring my phone.
I stand up and leave the classroom, then start walking toward my locker when I feel like I’m being followed…probably by Derek.
Yay.
“Is there a reason why you’re—” I stop when I turn and see Blake. “Following...me…”
I gulp a little. “Blake, I thought you were—”
“Derek,” he finishes in a rather blunt way.
“Yeah…” I trail off, feeling incredibly awkward.
He looks around then back at me. “Can we talk?”
My Boyfriend's Best Friend Page 4
