Saving It

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Saving It Page 19

by Monica Murphy

“You’re not being a dick to me.” I stand up straight, looking down my nose at him. “You’re being a dick to Molly, and that’s not cool.”

  He shrugs one broad shoulder. “Abraham made her ask me to winter formal. I don’t know what he’s got planned, but I’m not falling for it.”

  “That still doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk to Molly. You know how sensitive she is.”

  His lips curl and he presses them together. But they curl again, they’re almost wrinkling, and I know he’s trying to hold back his laughter. Sighing, I cross my arms in front of my chest and wait him out.

  “Give me a break,” he finally says after about a minute of that awful dirty laugh of his. “She’s not sensitive.”

  “Whatever.” I wave a dismissive hand. “You being angry with me doesn’t give you the right to act like an asshole to everyone else.”

  “Oh, so now I’m an asshole.” Both eyebrows are up, practically in his hairline. “Nice to know you think so highly of me, Edes.”

  My chest hurts at hearing him call me that. No one else calls me Edes. Just Josh. “Lately I’m not thinking so highly of you, Joshua.”

  “Yeah, well, right back at you.” He’s glowering. His brows are back to normal, and his jaw is tight. He has a great jaw, too, have I mentioned that? I’ve kissed that jaw. I’ve kissed those lips. Why are we acting like this again? I don’t even remember what started this argument in the first place.

  Oh right, we messed around with each other and he started talking to Kaylie again and I got upset. So. Stupid.

  I can’t fall back into that trap. To mess around with Josh is just that—messing around. He’s become anti-commitment, what with college on the horizon. I can’t put my heart back on the line, just for him to smash it into tiny bits.

  He already did that. I can’t let him do it again.

  “Just go with Molly to the stupid formal,” I tell him, letting my irritation shine through. “It won’t kill you to put on a suit and take Molly to a dance.”

  “I hate Molly.” He makes a face.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “She hates me. She’s already chewed me out twice over this entire thing.”

  “What entire thing?”

  “Us.” He points at me. “Don’t play innocent. I’m sure you put her up to it.”

  “I haven’t put anyone up to anything,” I stress, his words like a physical blow. “Why bother when I know you’re going to act like this?”

  “Act like what?” That familiar confused expression on his face makes my heart pang. The realization hits me, just like that—I’m in love with him. It’s the worst time ever to have this life-changing moment, yet here I am, ready to lay into the boy I love.

  I can’t help it. I’m in love with him, but I’m also so incredibly angry at him, too.

  “Act like an asshole!” I practically yell.

  Okay. Yeah, I did yell. People are looking. Including the vice principal, Mr. Jackson. In fact, he’s headed this way and my legs get wobbly and it feels like our side of the cafeteria slid into this uncomfortable hushed silence that’s making me nervous.

  I swear, I hear Josh chuckle. The bastard.

  “Miss Sumner. Is everything okay over here?” Mr. Jackson is standing directly in front of me. He’s not even looking in Josh’s direction. Like he knows the only one in the wrong is me.

  “Yes, everything’s fine, Mr. Jackson.” I nod, smiling as politely as I can.

  Josh coughs into his hand. I’m pretty sure he muttered bullshit against his fist.

  “Are you sure about that? Seems like there was a minor disturbance.” He sends a quick pointed glance in Josh’s direction.

  “No, just having a healthy argument with my best friend here.” I point at Josh.

  Mr. Jackson swivels around to study Josh. “A healthy argument, Mr. Evans? Is that what you two are up to?”

  “Guess so,” Josh says with an easy smile. His entire demeanor is like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  I sort of wish I could punch him.

  “Make sure you keep your voice down,” Mr. Jackson says, his gaze aimed right at me. “Wouldn’t want any foul language being heard in my cafeteria. Understand, Miss Sumner?”

  “Understood,” I say with a nod.

  Mr. Jackson smiles and walks away without another word.

  I nearly sag with relief. “Close one,” I murmur, forgetting myself for a moment. Forgetting that I’m pissed at Josh and the reason I almost got in trouble in the first place is because I called him an asshole.

  “Yeah, it was,” he agrees, like he just forgot himself, too. “You were sweating bullets, Edes. I could see it in your eyes.”

  “I wasn’t that scared.”

  “You so were.” He’s smirking now, looking smug. “But it’s cool. You played it off pretty well. I’ll give you credit.”

  We’re smiling at each other, just like we have over the years—with the exception of the past five days—and then we catch ourselves. Our smiles fade at the same time and our eyes go a little wider and I take a step back.

  “Just—consider it,” I tell Josh. “Going to the winter formal with Molly. It won’t be so bad.”

  “I don’t get why you want me to go with your best friend.” He’s frowning again. I like Josh better when he’s smiling.

  “Because I’m going with your best friend.” I tip my head toward him. “I think they’re forming a plot and trying to fix us.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible,” he says, his voice low.

  “They want to try,” I say, my voice also low. Again, his words hurt, but I push past the pain. He needs to hear me. Actually listen to me. “I’m just humoring them. Maybe you should, too.”

  …

  Josh

  Eden is humoring them by agreeing to go to winter formal with Abraham? I didn’t even know he asked her. Why didn’t he tell me? He’s my best friend. He’s not supposed to keep secrets like this. And this is a big one.

  “Okay.” I stand, gather my trash, and shove it back in the brown bag I brought for lunch. I toss it in the nearby garbage can and head toward the table where Abraham and Molly are still sitting. “I’ll play your little game.”

  Eden falls into step just behind me, and I can smell her. That familiar floral scent that drove me crazy not even a week ago when I had her pinned beneath me on her bed. I couldn’t figure out its source. Her hair? No. Her perfume? Nope. I finally figured out it had to be her body lotion, because I could smell that scent all over her skin, like she bathed in it or something.

  I’m veering off track. Typical when I’m with Eden. Being this close to her makes my entire body ache with the need to touch her. Bury my face in her hair. Kiss her angry mouth. Yeah, kissing her would be a most excellent idea. Would that make her stop saying all this crazy stuff?

  No. Kissing her is a very bad idea. Yeah, I miss her, but more than anything I miss our friendship, hearing her laugh, seeking her advice, because Eden never steers me wrong. But maybe it’s best if we just stop talking. It’s too hard, seeing her like this. Smelling her like this. I need to focus on the here and now, not on past memories and memorable scents.

  “Don’t be mean,” Eden’s telling me, but I ignore her. “Seriously, Josh. Don’t start anything, okay? They have good intentions.”

  “I’m sure,” I mutter, smiling like a psycho when Abraham and I make eye contact. He tears his gaze from mine and starts gesturing at Molly, who quickly whips her head around to watch my approach. She looks just as scared.

  Good.

  Not that I’m going to do anything. I’m in the middle of the cafeteria on Friday afternoon and Mr. Jackson isn’t too far, watching us. I won’t cause a big scene.

  “Molly,” I say when I’m close enough for her to hear. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Y-yeah, J-Josh?” She is literally stuttering.

  “I’ve changed my mind.” I give her my easy smile. The one that says I have no worries, which is a tot
al lie. I’m pretending because it’s easier to do that than wallow in the pain of losing Eden. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  “My offer?” Her eyes are wide, and she’s gone pale. I think I’ve scared her.

  This is kind of funny, which means Eden’s right. I’m a total asshole.

  But I’m still running with this.

  “I’ll go to winter formal with you,” I tell her with all the sincerity I can muster.

  She’s frozen, and I think Abraham kicks her under the table, because she mutters ow under her breath before she answers me. “Oh! Okay, that’s great, Josh. I’m so glad you said yes.”

  “I hoped you would be.” I rest my hand on Molly’s shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. She looks at where my hand rests and then up at my face, her gaze meeting mine. “This will be fun, right? You’ll have to tell me what color your dress is so I can pick out the right flowers.”

  Now she’s frowning. “Flowers?”

  “Yeah, for your corsage.”

  “Corsage?” I think Abraham kicks her again. She curses under her breath and sits up a little straighter. “Right, a corsage. Make it white. That way you can’t go wrong.”

  “Good idea. Hope you like roses.” I give her shoulder another squeeze, actually wink at her, and then let my gaze go to Abraham’s. He’s watching me with bewilderment. And I have no idea what Eden is doing, but I’d guess she’s not happy with how I’m acting right now.

  But it’s like I can’t help myself. It’s like I need to prove to her that I don’t need her anymore, even if it is a lie.

  Secretly, I need her more than ever.

  “See you guys later,” I tell them, then make a little phone gesture with my fingers, mouthing, call me to Molly.

  I turn, nearly bumping into Eden. I step to the side, and she does the same. I step to the other side, and so does she. She’s not smiling though. No, she looks beyond irritated.

  “Want to dance?” I ask, going for teasing her. I’m sort of over being angry at her. At least for the moment.

  “Stop.” She takes a step closer, and even though she’s short, and I can prop my arm on top of her head because I’m that much taller than her, I’m still a little intimidated. I can’t lie. “Don’t think you can outsmart them, Joshua. I know what you’re up to.”

  Yet again, I’m reminded of how well she knows me. How I can’t get away with shit when Eden’s around. “I’m not up to anything,” I tell her in my most innocent voice ever.

  “Whatever.” She jabs my chest with her index finger. And it freaking hurts. “I’m warning you. Don’t hurt Molly.”

  “She’s a big girl,” I say, batting her finger away from my chest. “She can handle anything I throw her way.”

  “Josh.” Her tone is a warning.

  “Edes.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “I can call you that if I want.” I pause, feeling like a sadistic jackass. “Edes.”

  “You’re so annoying,” she whispers, a flicker of pain in her eyes just before she turns and hauls ass out of the cafeteria.

  I watch her go, my chest aching, my blood running hot. I should chase after her. Make sure she’s okay. Though she’d probably tell me to go away. And that might hurt more, yet another rejection from the girl I care about more than anyone else in this world.

  “More like you’re a complete idiot.”

  I turn to find Abraham standing there, his hands shoved in his front pockets, the glare on his face extra fierce. Do I really want to hear what he has to say? “I don’t need your opinion right now.”

  “No, I think you do,” says another familiar voice.

  Molly.

  “Seriously, you’re being ridiculous,” she says, stepping closer to me so she can poke me in the chest, just like Eden did. “The both of you are. I’m not falling for your tricks. Just face facts that you miss Eden and she misses you and you’re both madly in love with each other.”

  Her words paralyze me, even though I want to run. Am I in love with Eden? I’ve loved her like a friend for years. The feelings have grown for sure over the last few months, and they’ve pretty much exploded these last few weeks.

  Meaning, I am totally crazy about her.

  And now she hates me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eden

  “Damn girl, you look gorgeous.” The low whistle that accompanies the compliment makes me blush so hard my cheeks are burning.

  The dress I found for winter formal is simple. Black velvet, form fitting, it hits me about mid-thigh, with long sleeves and a completely open back. Molly called it serious in the front, party in the back.

  “Stop,” I tell Abraham as I open the small black purse I borrowed from my mom and stow my iPhone inside. I stashed two twenty-dollar bills, my favorite lip gloss, and a tiny mirror in the purse, too. I’m ready for tonight’s dance, even though I still don’t really want to go.

  “I’m serious. That dress is smokin’.” Abraham grins. “Josh is gonna lose his mind when he sees you walking in on my arm.”

  “Oh my God,” I groan, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Mom didn’t hear him say that. She has no idea what’s going on between me and Josh and I don’t want to tell her, either.

  No use getting her hopes up and then watch them come crashing down all at once.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Abraham’s expression turns serious. “I’ll keep up the charade tonight, don’t worry.”

  “Seriously, could you say that any louder?” My parents think I’m going to the dance with Abraham for real. This is going to fall apart before we even leave the house.

  “I want photos!” Mom practically squeals from behind us as she enters the living room, making me roll my eyes. Abraham chuckles, waving me over to stand beside him.

  “Come on, Eden. Let’s pose for your mama,” Abraham says with one of those rare, extra charming Abraham smiles.

  I go to him, thankful he’s keeping up the facade for my parents. Mom positions us just so in front of the fireplace and Abraham hooks his arm through mine as she takes photo after photo of us. I’m smiling so hard I feel like I’m grimacing and when she asks Travis and his girlfriend Isabella to pose in the photos along with us, I want to scream in frustration.

  This isn’t how I envisioned my last high school winter formal going down, with Abraham as my date, a guy who usually drives me crazy. Of course, it’s not like I thought I’d go with Josh, either, so I don’t know exactly what I envisioned.

  All I know is, it definitely wasn’t this.

  Mom takes a trillion photos, and Dad gives us a lecture on making responsible choices and not drinking and driving. The talk makes Travis anxious and fidgety, so I’m guessing he had plans that included alcohol tonight.

  “Have a wonderful time,” Mom says as we finally make our way to the front door. Travis and Isabella already bailed a few minutes ago, saying they had to take photos at Isabella’s house, too.

  “Make sure you bring our daughter back by her curfew,” Dad says, his voice stern, his steely gaze directed straight at Abraham.

  Abraham literally salutes him. “Yes, sir.”

  I grab hold of Abraham’s hand and practically drag him out of my house. Once the door is shut and we’re headed toward his car, I feel like I can let my guard down and I release his hand. “That was pure torture.”

  “Your parents don’t think we’re a real thing, do they?”

  We climb into Abraham’s car and he starts the engine.

  “I told them we were going to the dance as just friends, but my mom is always hopeful,” I say, checking my phone. I have a Snapchat from Molly and I quickly open it. It’s a selfie of her and Josh, and he’s ridiculously handsome in his dark gray suit. There’s a caption though, that makes me laugh.

  He’s so grouchy he’s like the worst date ever.

  “Lean in,” I say to Abraham, waving him closer to me. He angles his head toward mine and we smile big for the selfie I’m sending back to
Molly. I also included a caption.

  My date is extra cheerful tonight.

  Molly texts me back as we drive to school, where the dance is being held.

  We should swap dates.

  In your dreams.

  Come on, Eden. You know you want to be with Josh tonight.

  Maybe I want Abraham now. He’s way nicer.

  Lucky. Josh is so grumpy.

  Are you already at the dance?

  We just got here.

  Within minutes, we arrive at the school, too, and walk into the gymnasium arm in arm. There are tables covered in white linen, a few couples sitting at them and chatting. White twinkle lights are strung everywhere, the music is loud, and the dance floor is packed with people dancing to a popular song.

  Abraham is literally bouncing up and down, so I know he wants to dance. “Let’s go,” he tells me just as he drags me out onto the dance floor and we immediately start moving. Surprisingly enough, he’s actually a pretty good dancer, which is awesome because every guy I’ve ever gone to a dance with isn’t that great.

  But Abraham is fun. He has no shame and soon we have a circle of people around us, most of them yelling and encouraging him to show off his dance moves. As I’m hopping around, I spot Cole dancing nearby and nearly have a coronary when I realize his date is the beautiful, clad in clingy white and silver sequins Whitney Gregory.

  Of course she is. She smiles at me and waves, and I wave back. I’ll forgive her. She can have Cole. At least she didn’t sink her claws too deep into Josh.

  My heart pangs just thinking of him.

  Turning my back on Cole and Whit, I throw myself into the music, yelling when the song changes to one of my favorites. I have no idea where Molly and Josh are, but I’ll find them in a minute. I raise my arms into the air, screaming along with the lyrics, smiling at Abraham when he grins at me. His face is already shiny with sweat, and his fingers are at his neck, loosening his black tie. I grab his other hand and twirl around, ducking underneath his arm, and he lets me go when I’m still spinning so I go flying, running into someone behind me.

  Big hands go to my waist, steadying me, keeping me from falling and goose bumps scatter all over my skin. I don’t need to see who just grabbed me. I can feel him.

 

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