Still…it’d be nice to share the burden with someone.
I utter the words before I can even reconsider them.
“I’m fake-dating my boyfriend’s best friend!”
His eyebrows crease. “What?”
I then proceed to tell him the gist of it all, watching as his facial expression changes with every word I say.
He’s showing more confusion than anything.
“So wait.” He massages his temples, once I finish coming clean. “Derek is Blake’s best friend and Blake is your ex-boyfriend but you want him back so you’re dating Derek?”
“Fake-dating,” I correct him. “We’re fake-dating—and you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Wow,” he comments with a bit of a laugh, “just…wow.”
“It’s crazy, I know.” I let out a loud sigh. “But I think it’s going to work.”
“So you love Blake then.” His eyes squint slightly, as if still trying to put the pieces together. “Right? I mean, that’s why you’re doing all of this.”
“Yeah…” I trail off, “and everything seemed to make sense until I met you, that’s when I started to get confused.”
“But you’re not confused now,” he clarifies, “you’ve got it all figured out again.”
“I think so,” I say with a nod. “You seem like a really nice guy, Owen…but Blake is—”
“I get it,” he cuts in, standing up. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
I force a smile. “I do.”
Not really. Maybe…kind of, I’ve honestly just been doing whatever Derek says to.
He’s the brains of this operation.
“If you change your mind,” Owen starts in a gentle voice, “let me know…okay?”
“I will.”
I highly doubt that I’ll be changing my mind though.
I’ve come this far after all.
He nods toward the entryway. “I’ll let myself out.”
And then he leaves.
I can’t even begin to describe the amount of relief I feel once I hear the front door close.
My relief is interrupted, however, when my phone rings.
I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s Derek.
He’ll want to know if I’ve talked to Owen yet, no doubt.
Oh crap.
I told Owen everything.
Oh my gosh, I told Owen everything…
What’s Derek going to think?
He’s probably not going to be okay with it.
Of course not!
He didn’t want anyone to know for a reason, Brittany!
So I won’t tell him then. He doesn’t need to know how I fixed the “Owen problem.”
All that matters is that it’s fixed.
I “accept” the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, how—”
“I already told him,” I cut in, knowing that’s all he’s worried about anyway. “So you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“I actually called to see how you were doing.”
“Oh.” My shoulders drop at that. “Well…I’m fine, and everything went well.”
“Good,” he states in approval, “I’m glad.”
Shocker, you’ve only been bugging me about it nonstop since—
“So listen,” he interrupts my thoughts, “I’ll be at your house in a few minutes.”
“What?” I raise an eyebrow. “Why?”
“To pick you up for our date,” he replies in a “duh” voice. “Remember? We talked about this at lunch?”
“But, but I thought that was—” I groan in frustration. “I can’t be ready in a few minutes!”
I have to shower and find something to wear…do my hair, my makeup!
Not to mention that I’d have to make sure it’s okay with Mom.
“Well,” he drawls, “now you have a couple of minutes.”
“You know what?” I snap. “Forget it, I’m not going anywhere with you!”
I end the call and blow some wisps of hair out of my face.
A couple of minutes, my—
I scowl when my phone rings, and the scowl only deepens when I see that Derek’s calling me…again.
Forget that.
I shove the phone back into my pocket and get up using my crutches just as my phone rings once more.
Unbelievable.
I ignore it and start making my way to the stairs.
These crutches make going up and down the stairs a nightmare though.
By the time I make it halfway up…my phone’s already rung at least another six times, and all six times I’ve just ignored it.
Once I’m upstairs, however, I go ahead and check to see who called.
Even though I’m positive it’s been Derek.
Whaddya know?
Derek.
Derek.
Derek.
Derek.
Derek.
Derek.
Der—Blake?
I stare at the number: Blake’s number.
Why would Blake be calling me?
Should I call him back?
Yes.
I quickly redial his number and wait as the phone rings. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Do I really want to know why he called? What if he just called me by accident?
Just as I’m about to end the call, Blake’s heart-wrenching voice comes on. “Hello?”
Speak, Britt.
I can’t!
SPEAK!
No!
So I end the call.
“What?” I blankly stare at my phone. “Why did I do that?”
Stupid!
Ugh.
The phone starts ringing and I bite my lip when I see that it’s Blake.
I hesitate before “accepting” the call. “Hello?”
“Britt?”
I can’t help but wince. “Yeah?”
“Did you just call me?”
I swallow, turning my gaze to the ceiling. “Yes…”
“And you hung up on me?”
“It was an accident!” I exclaim. “I meant to call you but I just—”
“Brittany…” he laughs a little, “it’s okay, relax.”
“Sorry,” I mumble a lame apology. “I’m gonna hang up now.”
So I don’t embarrass myself even more.
“No, Britt,” he quickly says. “Wait.”
I sigh. “What?”
What can he possibly want?
“Do you…maybe, wanna hang out tonight?”
I blink, multiple times.
Did he just—no, he couldn’t have.
“Britt? You there?”
“Yeah,” I manage to say, “I’m there—here, I’m here.”
Genius reply, Brittany…
“So do you want to?” he asks in a cool voice. “I mean, it’d be okay with Derek and everything…right?”
Please, I’m not going to tell Derek about this.
“Sure, that—” I stop in realization. “Wait, will Savannah be okay with this?”
“Well, Sav and I aren’t talking to each other right now.” He lets out a deep breath. “I’d say it’s a funny story but it’s not.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
As in: “I’m-sorry-to-hear-you-sounding-upset.”
But if he’s having problems with Savannah, that’s potentially a good thing.
“So you’ll come?”
It may just be my imagination, but he sounds almost hopeful to me.
Or maybe I’m just the one who’s hopeful.
“Okay,” I finally say, “let me just check with my parents first.”
I cover my phone and just as I’m about to shout for my mom, I see her walk by downstairs. “Mom!”
She stops and looks up at me. “Brittany, wha—”
“Can I hang out with a friend?
Please say yes, please say yes…
“I guess so.” She sighs. “But be back before
ten thirty…it’s a school night.”
I put the phone back to my ear. “Pick me up in an hour?”
Chapter 33: Talk to Me
——————————————————
I’m not going to lie.
I’m excited. I’m beyond excited.
I’m going out with Blake.
Me.
Sure it’s not a “date,” but it’s a step up from nothing.
I changed outfits almost five times before deciding on something cute yet casual, and now I’m waiting in the living room—impatiently.
Five minutes late turns into ten minutes late, then thirty…than an hour.
If this is what being stood up feels like, it sucks.
Part of me wants to hate him for doing this to me.
The other part wonders if something happened.
Something bad…but he could’ve called, texted—anything.
I decide that I’m done with waiting and reapplying lip gloss, so I go to my room and collapse onto my bed.
I don’t care if my perfectly curled hair and applied makeup gets ruined or if my clothes get wrinkled.
I don’t care.
Soon my mascara’s running, my vision’s blurred by tears, and the pillow I’m using is soaked.
In short…I’m a mess.
I’ve turned down dinner, as well as the offers from Mom and Dad to talk about it.
I just want to be left alone.
How could Blake be this heartless?
The crying eventually slows and now I’m just sniffling over and over again.
When my phone rings, however, I immediately sit up.
Blake.
I pull it out of my pocket then groan at the sight of Derek’s name.
Disappointment…
I might as well answer though.
He’ll just keep calling if I don’t.
“What is it, Derek?”
“Britt, I’m sorry for making you mad,” he says, amid my light sniffling, “and for—”
He suddenly stops. “Have you been crying?”
“No,” I lie, aware of my numb voice, “I have allergies.”
Yeah, I seem to be allergic to the truth lately.
Ooh…that was a good one.
Oh really?
Thanks.
“Allergies?” he asks, sounding unconvinced. “What are you allergic to?”
“To life, Derek,” I tell him in a dry tone. “I’m allergic to life…and right now I’m having a pity party, so if you don’t mi—”
“What’s wrong?” he interrupts. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I lie again, “just forget that I said any—”
“Oh, no, no, no,” he cuts me off, “we’re not playing this game again…talk to me.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Derek, I—”
“How ‘bout we go out?” he offers. “I promise I’ll give you enough time to get ready.”
Well, I’m already dressed…
Plus some company and fresh air might be nice.
“All right,” I agree, “we can go out.”
“Great, will thirty minutes be enough?”
“That’ll be more than enough.” I roll my eyes. “Where are we going?”
Three, two—
“Surprise.”
“I figured.” I actually find myself smiling. “See ya soon.”
By the time the doorbell rings, I’ve already explained to Mom and Dad that I’m going out with Derek…not with the “friend” that stood me up.
I’ve cleaned my face up, reapplied makeup, and fixed my hair.
Because it looked pretty messy…okay, it looked terrible.
But it looks good now.
I open the front door, revealing Derek with his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He smiles. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” I feel my cheeks heating up. “You do too.”
Ever since our “we-both-think-the-other-is-hot” conversation, I’ve found it kind of awkward complimenting him and receiving compliments from him.
For example, this morning…when he picked me up for school, I almost told him that he looked good.
Like, what the heck? Am I right?
“I know I hit your ankle with the car door last time,” he says with a bit of a wince. “But I’ll carry you if—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off. “You don’t have to.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
A free ride does sound nice…it gets tiring hobbling around all the time.
I nod. “Okay.”
So I balance on my good foot as I steady myself by holding on to his shoulders (which is kind of hard to do since he’s a lot taller than me), then he quickly scoops me up like he’s done the other times and I wrap my arms around his neck as he starts walking toward his truck.
I won’t lie. It’s kind of nice being carried around.
He’s so soft. Not like mushy though.
What?
I think it’s his shirt. He smells good too.
Cologne and—great, I’m smelling him.
What’s next?
Yeah, let’s not go there.
He carefully opens the passenger door, making sure not to hit me and then gently sets me down on the seat.
I sigh in contentment. “Thanks.”
He nods then closes the door and I put my seatbelt on.
Where are we going?
Out to eat?
My stomach rumbles at the thought and I suddenly regret turning dinner down.
Soon enough, Derek gets into the truck…buckles his seatbelt and starts the car.
I glance out my window as he begins to drive.
It’s so pretty tonight.
The moon’s out.
So are the stars.
And an airplane?
Way to ruin my moment, you stupid plane!
I turn to Derek. “So, where are we going?”
“I already told you.” He glances at me. “It’s a surprise.”
“Can’t I just have a hint?” I whine/beg. “One little, teeny-tiny hint?”
He smiles some. “I think you’re going to like it.”
I pout. “That’s not a hint!”
“Well,” he drawls, “now you know that we’re not going to someplace you don’t like.”
What a mouthful…
I guess it’s true though, but I don’t think there are a lot of places that I don’t like.
Except for a hall of mirrors—you know, like at a carnival?
Those freak me out.
I got lost once.
Bad experience…
Maybe I can annoy the surprise out of him.
I look at him. “Are we there yet?”
“No.” His eyes stay on the road. “Not yet.”
Ten seconds after that, “Now?”
“No, Britt.”
Fifteen seconds after that, “Are we there…now?”
“No.”
I think it’s working.
He looks annoyed.
“Are we there no—”
“Stop wouldja?” he cuts me short. “I know what you’re trying to do.
“What?” I ask, feigning innocence. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “Okay.”
Ugh.
What if I use what he uses against me?
I cross my arms. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll—”
Derek normally says “kiss you,” but there’s no way I’m saying that.
He gives me a mischievous grin. “You’ll what?”
“I don’t know.” I squirm in my seat. “But I’ll do something.”
Should’ve thought this idea through better…
“Well,” he starts in a matter-of-fact tone, “when you figure it out, let me know.”
I hate when he thinks he’s so smart and cocky.
Okay, so he is smart and cocky…but that’s not the point!
The point is that I—wait, what was the point?
Crap.
Forget it.
Suddenly, Derek’s stopping the car. “We’re here.”
I can’t see anything! It’s like pitch black.
Where the heck are we?
After he stops the car and gets out, I unbuckle my seatbelt and the passenger door opens revealing Derek. “Ready?”
“Where are we?” I ask point-blank.
He ignores my question. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
Sighing, I do what he says and he carries me out then shuts the door with his leg? Foot?
I don’t know, but I hear crunching as Derek walks—and it sounds like grass crunching.
Plus it looks like there might be some trees…
I hit his arm in realization. “We’re at your place!”
“Jeez, Britt,” he whines, “I need my arm.”
“What are we doing here?” I ask, continuing to look around.
It’s becoming easier to see now…
I suddenly hear a noise and my head snaps in its direction, causing me to butt heads with Derek.
“Ow,” we say at the same time.
“Sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my head. “I heard something.”
“An owl.”
Oh, that’s what it was.
Derek sets me down long-ways on the bench by the water and carefully lifts my legs up before he sits down so my feet are resting on his knees.
I shake my head. “You don’t have to—”
He motions upward. “Look at the sky.”
I turn my gaze from him to the sky and gasp.
It’s so beautiful and the stream shines with its reflection…and the best part? There’s no plane.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe out.
“Yeah,” Derek agrees. “I like to come here and look at the stars.”
It’s so quiet and peaceful.
“Fireflies!” I exclaim softly as I watch them fly over the stream.
I close my eyes and just listen.
Listen to everything.
Frogs lightly croaking, crickets chirping, owls hooting…
And for some strange reason, I get the urge to lean against Derek’s shoulder.
I can’t of course…because he’s all the way on the other side of the bench; I bet it’d be nice to lean against him though.
What? No, stop that!
Focus on the stars.
So I do—I look back at the sky.
But all I can keep thinking about is leaning against him.
It’s getting annoying.
I close my eyes to try and clear my mind, and the next thing I know, I’m being picked up.
I’m too tired to care though and I don’t even bother opening my eyes as I wrap my arms around Derek’s neck and lean my head against his chest.
My Boyfriend's Best Friend Page 20
