My Boyfriend's Best Friend

by Pixie Perkins

  I sigh as I grab my ball once more, and I repeat the same steps.

  Except this time…

  “I did it!” I shriek, throwing my arms around Derek. “I did it!”

  Sure I only hit two, but that’s more than not hitting any.

  “Good job.” He laughs, hugging me back. “See? I knew you could do it.”

  I know I’m smiling like an idiot as I pull away, but I don’t really care…I’m too happy to care.

  Maybe bowling isn’t that bad.

  Or maybe it’s just because of Derek.

  Chapter 39: He’s Especially Different

  ——————————————————

  I pound a fist on the nook table. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Britt, for the tenth time since last night,” Zach starts with a sigh, “you don’t need to know.”

  “Oh, but Derek can know?”

  He shakes his head with a slight scowl. “I knew he would—”

  “Don’t blame this on Derek,” I cut him off, “he wouldn’t tell me a thing.”

  Even though we dropped the whole “Zach subject” on our way to the bowling alley, I brought it up again when we were driving home.

  And once again, Derek refused to answer me.

  Why all the secrecy?

  I don’t get it.

  He stuffs a piece of his cinnamon roll in his mouth. “Can we just stop talking about it?”

  “Fine,” I huff, standing up. “I’m going to my room.”

  I stalk upstairs and make sure to slam the door after entering my room, just so he knows how mad I am.

  I need a distraction.

  Something to cheer me up—or someone…

  Derek.

  I immediately call him. But unfortunately he doesn’t answer.

  Not bothering to leave a message, I re-pocket my phone with a sigh. “Figures.”

  There’s a knock at my door and even though I know it’s Zach (because Mom and Dad are out on a date) I ask, “Who is it?”

  Just to bug him.

  “Who do you think?” he replies in a “duh” voice. “We’re the only ones in the house, dork.”

  “I thought it might’ve been Patrick,” I say, unable to help myself, “you know…your—”

  “I was seven!” he cuts me short. “Everybody has an imaginary friend at that age!”

  “Not a giraffe.” I roll my eyes. “And—”

  I stop when my phone rings and check to see that it’s Derek. “Zach, go away! I’m on the phone!”

  He mutters something, but I hear him leave and I answer the phone. “Der—”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah…” I trail off, “I guess—can we do something?”

  “Sure,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, “we’ll go hiking. See ya in a few.”

  “Wait, no, Der—” He hangs up and I let out a loud groan. “I don’t wanna go stupid hiking!”

  Even still, I toss my phone on my bed then begin searching through my closet for hiking boots.

  Rain boots, sneakers, over-the-knee boots, and pumps—

  “Ow! What the heck, Britt!”

  “Can’t talk, Zach,” I say, sifting through my other shoes. “I’m busy.”

  He deserves to be hit with a shoe or two anyway…

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m getting ready to go out.” I half-turn so I can see him. “Why are you in my room?”

  “Out where?” He ignores my question. “With Derek?”

  “Maybe…” I turn back to my closet. “Why?”

  “Do Mom and Dad know?”

  “Aha!” I exclaim, pulling my hiking boots out. “Found ‘em!”

  “Britt?” Zach asks as I grab a pair of socks. “Mom and Dad?”

  “Just tell them that I’m out with Derek.” I sigh, tugging my socks over my feet. “You can do that for me, right?”

  He rolls his eyes. “What are brothers for?”

  I shove both feet into the boots and quickly tie their laces. “I’ll probably be back for lunch.”

  His gaze drops to my shoes. “Where the heck is he taking you?”

  “Hiking,” I reply, putting my hair in a messy bun, “the great outdoors.”

  “You hate hiking.” Zach’s eyebrows go up. “And you suck at it.”

  “Thanks,” I say, not hiding my sarcasm, “I needed that.”

  “And you’re going in shorts?”

  “I don’t have time to change.” I shrug, leaving my room. “And besides…they’re comfortable.”

  I jog down the stairs then stop and wince—my phone.

  “Forgetting something?”

  I turn around to see Zach dangling my phone in the air. “Zach, giv—”

  “You want me to toss it to ya?”

  “No!” I quickly exclaim. “Do. Not.”

  He knows I can’t catch to save my life.

  “Well,” he drawls, “come and get it before I read all of your messages to Derekkkk.”

  My eyes widen at that and I rush upstairs then snatch my phone from him. “Jerk.”

  “Have fun!” he calls after me as I reach the bottom of the stairs and the doorbell rings. “And don’t get poison ivy, again.”

  I stick my tongue out at him before opening the door. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Derek says, looking me up and down, “you look great.”

  “Yeah,” I agree with an eye-roll, “fabulous.”

  He winks. “Exactly.”

  “Tone it down, Connors,” I hear Zach warn him.

  “Let’s go, Derek,” I say, stepping outside and closing the door behind me.

  “I’m guessing someone’s excited to be going hiking.”

  I snort. “Excited isn’t the word I’d use.”

  “Aw,” he coos with a playful grin, “Witty-Britty doesn’t like hiking?”

  “Not really,” I answer as we walk to his truck, “I kind of hate it.”

  No point in hiding it.

  “Well, I’ll just have to make you love it.” He nods with a determined look on his face. “Problem solved.”

  He may have gotten me to sort of like bowling…but hiking?

  Not happening.

  Then again, this is Derek we’re talking about—and he’s especially different.

  ——————

  “I don’t know about this,” I comment, feeling unsure as I follow Derek into who-knows-where. “Maybe we could—”

  “Britt, come on.” He sighs, turning around to look at me. “This will be good for you.”

  How is this possibly good for anyone?

  It’s not.

  I pout before trudging to where he is. “But, Der—”

  “Stop whining, Brittany,” he tells me with a slight smile, “enjoy nature.”

  I scowl, crossing my arms in the process. “Nature’s tiring.”

  “Nature helps clear your head,” he contradicts, “that’s why you wanted to do something…right? Get your mind off stuff?”

  I let my arms drop to my sides. “How do you—”

  “So what is it?” he interrupts me. “Still Zach?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “Partially.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “And the other part?”

  “You’re not going to like it.” I shake my head. “At all…”

  His eyebrows crease. “Well—”

  “I’m serious,” I insist, “you’re going to be super mad.”

  “Will you just—”

  “Probably at me,” I continue, “even though it’s really not my fault.”

  “Britt, would you—”

  “But maybe it is.” I sigh in frustration. “Maybe it is really my fa—”

  My words are cut off when Derek’s lips are pressed against mine.

  What the—

  I don’t hesitate in yanking away. “What was that?!”

  “I was trying to get you to stop talking for just a—”

  “There are other way
s to get someone to stop talking, Derek,” I snap, wiping a hand across my mouth, “you know—like asking?”

  He proceeds to scowl. “Well, considering that you weren’t listening to me…”

  “I was trying to tell you how I feel,” I inform him in a tight voice, “not to mention prep you.”

  “Prep me for what, Britt?” he asks in exasperation. “What? What is it?”

  “Owen knows about us!” I blurt out. “The truth, that we’re fake-dating…I told him!”

  He stares at me blankly. “You what?”

  “I told him.” I lick my lips. “On Tuesday.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He doesn’t look mad.

  Which is good…but he does look somewhat disappointed, which is bad.

  “I was worried about what you’d think,” I ramble while rubbing my arms, “and I know that you don’t really like Owen so—”

  “He could tell someone, Britt,” Derek cuts me off. “He could tell Moore. Did you even think about that?”

  “Of course I did!” I exclaim, all-but-glaring at him. “Owen promised not to say anything though and I trust him.”

  “You trust him?” he echoes with slightly widened eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

  “See?” I motion to him. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  I walk past him with a huff, only to be stopped when he grasps my arm. “Britt, wait.”

  “What?” I ask, looking at him flatly.

  He pulls me into a hug, his arms holding me in a secure but comforting way…just like they always do. “I’m sorry, Britt.”

  Ugh, of course he is and how can I stay upset with him?

  “Me too,” I find myself mumbling into his shirt as I hug him back, “I should’ve told you earlier.”

  “It’s just…” he trails off, “I’m the one who’s supposed to make sure that everything works out okay.”

  “I know,” I reply, my voice still quiet, “and everything will work out okay.”

  That’s what I’m hoping anyway.

  We stand there in silence for a few moments and then Derek pulls away. “So…still hate hiking?”

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation as we resume walking, “I think I’m getting bit by mosquitoes or something.”

  I scratch both arms in various spaces and sure enough there are several red spots on them.

  “Don’t scratch them,” Derek scolds, “that’ll just make it worse.”

  Easy for him to say, he’s not covered in bug bites. How is that anyway?

  “I have to!” I argue, still scratching. “They itch like crazy!”

  I continue to scratch my arms and legs but then end up losing my balance and…manage-to-hit-my-knee-on-a-rock-causing-me-to-fall-on-my-butt.

  “Ow!” I whine, looking at my now-cut knee. “Stupid—”

  Derek immediately crouches down beside me. “Told you scratching would make it worse.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble, crossing my arms. “Derek, it’s bleeding!”

  “That’s what cuts do,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They bleed.”

  “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm,” I tell him in a dry voice. “What are you doing?”

  “I normally have a bandage…”

  “A bandage?” I ask in disbelief. “A flippin’ bandage isn’t going to cover a cut like this!”

  The blood begins to drip down my leg and I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “Der—”

  My eyes widen when I see him pulling his shirt off. “What the crap are you doing?”

  “Fixing the problem,” he replies, ripping part of the shirt. “Relax.”

  How can I possibly relax when he’s shirtless, showing off his toned upper-half?

  I can’t.

  It’s awkward and it’s embarrassing. Not to mention distracting…

  Crap.

  Derek wipes the blood from my leg with one piece of his shirt and then ties another piece around the cut.

  “There…done.”

  He pulls me up and I quickly let go of his hands, stepping back so there’s space between us.

  His eyebrows crease. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re shirtless!” I exclaim before face-palming.

  Oh man…why did I say that out loud?

  “Me being shirtless bugs you?” he asks, looking amused.

  I put a hand up to stop him. “Just put your shirt on.”

  He grabs his shirt off the ground and puts it back on. “Better?”

  Even though the bottom of the shirt is torn, partially showing his stomach, it’s better than him being completely shirtless.

  I bob my head up and down. “Uh-huh.”

  He chuckles at that. “You’re too much, Britt.”

  I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get you home.”

  Home. Mom’s going to freak if she sees me.

  She can’t do blood. One time, Zach had a bloody nose, and Mom passed out in the kitchen.

  Or there was that time when she managed to scrape herself on something and basically started hyperventilating at the sight of blood coming out of her ankle.

  Yeah, blood’s a touchy subject in our house.

  “Can you walk?”

  “Of course I can walk,” I practically snap at him. “I’m—”

  “Hey,” he cuts me off, “I’m just trying to be considerate.”

  My shoulders drop at that, because of course he’s trying to be nice…he’s always trying to be nice.

  “I’m sorry, Derek.” I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  He nods. “It’s all right.”

  And with that, we make our way back to his truck.

  “You didn’t purposely hurt yourself so our hiking expedition would have to be cut short…did you?”

  “Of course not!” I look at him in disbelief. “Why would you—”

  “I’m just messing with you, Britt,” he tells me with a slight grin, “no worries.”

  With an eye-roll, I open the passenger door once he unlocks the car, and I get in.

  I close my door and buckle my seatbelt as Derek gets in. “So why does me being shirtless bug you?”

  I squirm in discomfort while he closes his door. “I didn’t say it bugged me.”

  He buckles his seatbelt. “So it doesn’t bug you?”

  “Why are we having this conversation?”

  He shrugs as he starts the car. “Curious, I guess.”

  It’s silent as he starts driving, but then he suddenly laughs, causing me to arch an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

  “It so bugs you,” he replies, not looking at me and I scowl. “It does not.”

  Yes it does.

  Because you think that he looked—

  Stop it, Britt!

  “Just admit it.” He glances at me with a smirk. “Me being shirtle—”

  “I don’t care one way or another,” I force myself to sound nonchalant, “shirt on, shirt off…who cares?”

  “Really?” he asks, obviously surprised as he stops at a red light. “Well, in that case…”

  I watch in horror as he yanks off his shirt—again.

  Stupid. Brittany.

  “Don’t you think that you’ll get…cold?”

  Cold? In April?

  Really, Britt?

  “Nah,” he replies carelessly, “I’m fine.”

  Of course…

  The whole ride home I spend my time staring out the window, determined not to look at Derek.

  Okay, so maybe I glanced at him once—twice, thrice.

  Is thrice even a word?

  I think so.

  Soon he’s pulling into the driveway and I’ve never felt so relieved.

  After eagerly unbuckling my seatbelt, I throw the door open and get out.

  I can breathe.

  I’m free. I’m—

  “What are you doing?�
�

  I glance down at my arms to see that I’m hugging myself.

  Yeah, that’s weird.

  I let my arms drop and casually shrug. “Nothing.”

  Derek gives me a disbelieving look as he closes the passenger door for me. “You sure?”

  “Yep.” I bob my head up and down. “All good here.”

  Except for the fact that he’s still shirtless and I’m acting like an idiot.

  I all-but-dash to the front porch, wanting to avoid further conversation and awkwardness…and embarrassment.

  In short: Derek.

  “You’re in a hurry, huh?” he asks, coming beside me. “What’s the rush?”

  “I’m, starving,” I lie as I open the front door, “so I’m just goi—”

  I freeze when I see Zach, making out with a girl on our living room sofa.

  Making out with Liv.

  Chapter 40: Leave Me Alone

  ——————————————————

  “What the—”

  I can’t even finish.

  Both of them have already stood up and I’m now standing in the living room with Derek beside me.

  “Britt,” they say at the same time and Zach clears his throat as Liv attempts to smooth her hair. “We wanted to tell you, but we—”

  “No,” Liv interrupts him, “it was me…I told Zach not to say anything.”

  I stare at them in complete disbelief. “How could you guys—”

  “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” Liv sighs, coming toward me. “I was worried. That’s why we didn’t tell you.”

  “So you’ve been lying to me,” I clarify in a dry tone, “both of you.”

  Liv shakes her head. “No, I—”

  “Britt.” Zach wraps an arm around Liv’s shoulders. “This isn’t Liv’s fault, don’t—”

  “No,” I cut him off, jabbing a finger in his direction “you don’t.”

  Liv and Zach?

  I can’t—what about Derek?

  Derek and Liv?

  Wait a minute though…

  I turn so I’m looking at Derek. “Did you know?”

  He licks his lips. “Britt—”

  “You did know!” I exclaim with a gasp. “That’s why you were so secretive about you and Liv being at Tacky’s and why you wouldn’t tell me where Zach was last night! You knew and you lied to me!”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Forget it!” I snap at him. “I don’t want to hear more excuses, all of you just—”