All the Right Moves

by Taylor, Becca

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re my best friend.” I wasn’t afraid to pull out the it’s your duty card.

  “I’m starting to rethink if you are or not,” she joked. Or maybe she wasn’t. At this point, I couldn’t tell.

  “Remember after sex ed class when you had some questions?” Tenley was a bit of a late bloomer. When all the girls were already kissing boys, she thought they were gross. Her mom didn’t take much time to explain the entire facts of life, so she asked me what my folks had told me.

  I went to the drawer in my parents' room and found the book Dad made me read when I was ten, and I also found the one they had stashed for my older sister. I told Tenley she should ask my sister, not me, but she said it was embarrassing, and it was my duty as her best friend to help her.

  “Where are you going with this?”

  “I told you back then you owed me. And you never did bring those books back when I lent them to you.” Bribery might not be the best of options, but I needed to act quickly.

  “I owe you what exactly?”

  I handed her my right list. “I need a female to help me test these and see if they are accurate. And as my best friend, who is also a female, I need you.”

  I waited while her eyes scanned the paper.

  I waited for her to finish her drink when she stopped reading.

  I waited until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “As you can see, the list isn’t all about sex. Most of these will be a piece of cake for us. But I would like to test out the other stuff too, and who better to do it with,” pun intended, “than your best friend?”

  She handed me her glass, and I took it as a sign she needed another drink. I made her one but not as strong this time. I needed her relaxed, not completely blitzed. Though blitzed Tenley was fun. She was the type of girl who laughed like crazy, played poker and lost terribly, and just became one of the guys.

  My best friend was an awesome chick. And I knew she wouldn’t hold any of my faults against me. She’d call me out if I did something wrong. Like when I called her a chick. Or if I was just plain being a dick. That was why I needed Tenley to agree.

  I handed her the drink and begged, “Just give me thirty days, Tenley.”

  4

  Tenley

  Big brains matter.

  IN THE MATTER OF A HALF-HOUR, my thoughts had ranged from yay it’s finally movie night again to body snatchers have invaded my best friend. They had to because it was the only way he would ask me to help him with his whatever this is… becoming his what, “fake girlfriend”? And, oh yeah, have sex with him for the next month.

  To be fair, he didn’t say he wanted me to have sex with him for the entire month, only some of the time.

  “Clearly, plan B didn’t work,” he told me as he pulled out some strange graph depicting why we should do this. He pushed his black-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before restarting.

  “On to plan C. Here, I have two graphs. One shows all the reasons why you should or would say no, but this one shows all the reasons you should say yes.” It was the cutest thing when Preston let his inner geek fly. His brains were a wondrous sight. The truth was, his whole package was pretty amazing. He was talking, but I was barely listening because my eyes were focused on his full lips and the way his hands moved from point to point. In my defense, he had nice hands. They looked soft, not rough from physical labor. After fifteen minutes of not hearing a word he said, he concluded, “Clearly, the pros outweigh the cons.”

  “You may have to repeat that part again.”

  “Which part?”

  “Everything you said after plan C.”

  He took off his glasses, then tossed them on the table. “You didn’t listen to a word I said? I already suck at communication, and we haven’t even started.”

  “What?”

  He held up the list once again, showing me number one. Then he explained how important communication was in a relationship.

  Well, duh. Everyone knows that.

  Preston rambled on about how he and Chanel hadn’t talked in a long time. I wanted to ask what they did do then when they were together but decided it was better not to. Hearing about Preston’s private life wasn’t on the agenda. Ever.

  It was forbidden territory between us.

  “You didn’t fail. And it wasn’t that I didn’t listen. I’m just a bit confused because I think you asked me to be your rebound slash test girl and to have sex with you, but I know I misunderstood.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” What I wanted to say was oh my God, Preston wants to have sex with me. I wanted to squeal like the teenage version of me did when I found out a boy liked me. But the yoga instructor in me kept my balance centered and my mediation face intact because this was Preston. The boy who I rode bikes to school with every day. The boy who gave me a wedgie right after I gave him one for laughing when he found a training bra in my room and asked why I had it because there was nothing to train. He also was the boy who ran to get the first-aid kit when I scraped my knee in his backyard. And who punched Jimmy Olsen when he called me Red the day I got my first period in gym class.

  After that day, my heart started beating a little faster every time I was around Preston. Which was a lot. During lunch in middle school, though, my heart dropped when he showed up with his first girlfriend. It was also then I knew it would never be between us because he didn’t look at me the way I looked at him. I was just Tenley, his best friend. And he undoubtedly was mine.

  “Was that a good oh or a bad oh?”

  “It’s a give me a few minutes to look over these papers again oh.”

  “Great. As you can see—”

  I interrupted him. “Preston.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let me read them myself.”

  “Okay. I’ll sit here…”

  I started reading.

  “And wait for you to finish.” He gulped his drink as I gave him a side-eye.

  I looked over the charts, and there was a million and one reasons I could add as to his why I would say no. As for his why I should say yes, he made a pie chart colored completely in teal with the words Because I need you, Tenley in the center.

  When I looked over at him, he had a big smile on his face. He knew he had me with those words. No matter the time of day or night, whenever one of us would get the call or text saying I need you, you came. No questions asked.

  “Low blow, Griffin.” I used his last name like his coach used to on the volleyball court.

  He knew. It was written all over his face. But I was ready to one-up him.

  “If, and I mean a big if, I say yes, how would this work?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Actually, I hadn’t thought beyond you saying yes.”

  “That's not very productive of you. Thirty days isn’t a long time to accomplish these.”

  His hand ran through his hair, and I watched. He did it whenever he was contemplating and watching his forearm flex was sexy as hell. Don’t even get me started on the way his blond strands glided through his fingers. I wondered if he would run them through my hair the same way.

  “It’s not, is it? What was I thinking, saying thirty days?”

  “Isn’t it less?” I questioned.

  “What?”

  “Well, right here, you have thirty days from when you wrote the list, which was dated three days ago. Four, if you count today. So technically, we have twenty-six days.”

  “Shit.”

  I tsked him. “And you call yourself a numbers guy.”

  “I am.”

  I didn’t say a word. I knew my best friend and how it would affect him because he hadn’t calculated everything to a T. He was going to sit there until he reworked all his facts and figures.

  “Oh well,” he said, tossing his pen on his charts.

  “Wait? What?” I panicked.

  “So what? We have a little
less time. As long as I get from A to Z, the timeframe doesn’t matter.”

  There was no way I was letting him anywhere near my Z. Z would bring us so far out of the friend zone. Him touching Z would be … amazing.

  No, Tenley. Bad, bad Tenley.

  “Can I have a little time to think about this?” I asked him.

  “Of course.”

  He leaned over to take my glass again. Think. Yes, thinking was good. When I did think, I needed to be far away from Preston, his silky hair, and his—I took a deep breath—scent.

  What the hell was he wearing because it smelled so good? It was like that store at the mall with the loud music and the sexy model standing out front with the flyers in his hand who first tried to persuade you to enter with his coupons. But when you went to say no thanks, he came up to you wearing some pheromone-laced cologne that made you take the lousy ten percent off and buy all the clothes because of his damn smile.

  I held my breath so I didn’t get suckered into, I didn’t know what to label it, as Preston turned to look at me. “Another?”

  There was no way I could talk while holding my breath, so I nodded. When he was a safe distance away, I finally breathed again. “So this didn’t count as movie night, did it?”

  “No.” He laughed.

  I clicked on the television and started scrolling through the new releases while Preston made a lot of noise in the kitchen as he popped his popcorn and gathered our snacks. My eyes landed on the papers littering my coffee table. Piling them up, I stuffed them underneath my magazines. Out of sight, out of mind. Tomorrow, I’d think about it. Tonight, we watched…

  From the kitchen, Preston yelled, “Yes, Thor is out.”

  Even though we saw it in the movies, I was fine to watch it again. Chris Hemsworth would be the perfect distraction.

  With my bowl of Cheetos in my lap, I pressed play. We were at the part where Thor calls himself the strongest Avenger, which I agreed, but Preston paused the movie. He disagreed.

  I received a twenty-minute lecture on why the Hulk was, in fact, the strongest. And being Preston, stats were involved.

  I grabbed a Cheetos, but before I put it in my mouth, I said my final defense. “But Thor is a god.”

  Just as I was about to consume the cheesy goodness, Preston grabbed my hand and stole it from my fingers. He didn’t just steal it, though. No, he pulled my hand close to his face, opened his mouth, and curled his tongue around the puff. After he ate it, he proceeded to suck my fingers clean.

  Oh, God.

  In the ten seconds he licked me, you could say I wasn’t in my right mind when I blurted out, “You win.” Luckily, I didn’t turn into Katniss and yell I volunteer, but it was a close call.

  “When it comes to superheroes, don’t challenge me.”

  Only it wasn’t what I was letting him win on. It was when my toes curled while my fingers were in Preston’s mouth that I wanted to know how his mouth felt on other parts of my body. I had needs too. And doing this was no big deal. Right? Thirty days was nothing. It would be over in a flash. After all, Chanel said he was bad in bed, so maybe if he was, I would finally be over Preston. The logical side of my brain said I was being rational. I chose to ignore the other side that was telling me I was an idiot and this whole thing spelled disaster. Or, worse, heartbreak. But the nonrational, girl had needs, side of me won. “No, I mean you win. I’ll help you.”

  He put his bowl of popcorn on the table and enveloped me in a big hug. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  As fast as he grabbed me, he let me go. With a smile on both our faces, I turned the movie on again. “You owe me big time, Griffin.”

  5

  Preston

  Gifts from the heart matter.

  AFTER I LEFT HER APARTMENT, I sent Tenley a text to tell her I’d be at her door at eight in the morning and she should have her laundry raring to go. I already had mine waiting in the communal laundry area, so I could carry hers down like a gentleman. I was sure when I propositioned Tenley last night that she wasn’t expecting housework to be our first outing. But a couple who shared a washer together stayed together.

  For the record, I just made that up.

  All that mattered was the look of content she wore knowing she had to do nothing but keep me company while I did the work. Plus, it gave us two hours between washing, drying, and folding to discuss what would happen next.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” She looked concerned the second I started separating our clothes, placing the darks in one washer and the lights in another.

  “I got this under control, baby.” The endearment rolled off my tongue casually, but I liked it. It was one of the pet names I wanted to test out. I had a chart waiting back home to jot down the different responses I received after saying each one.

  I flashed Tenley a wink from over my shoulder, which gave me the opportunity to judge her reaction. It wasn't negative or positive. If anything, she didn’t seem fazed by it one bit. She was sitting cross-legged on top of the washers in the middle of the room while I filled the larger units against the wall. Who knew combined we’d have enough dirty clothes to fill two double loaders.

  If it was just me, I would have tossed it all in one even though my mama taught me better. It wasn’t just me, though, and I had a girl I needed to impress with my domestic abilities.

  I had one other trick up my sleeve. From inside my bag where my detergent was, I pulled out one green smoothie and one pink. Hint, the green wasn’t mine. I’d had enough kale to last me a lifetime, but Tenley, on the other hand, loved it. And I knew after a night of hardcore movie snack eating, she would be splitting one of the large detoxing bad boys between breakfast and lunch.

  “Laundry and smoothies. Are you planning on doing my dishes too? If this is how it’s going to be for the next month, sign me up for an additional month.”

  This might work in my favor. I decided to give it a whirl to see what Tenley would say. “I am willing to negotiate for a kiss.”

  Her forehead scrunched at the same time her lips pursed as if she’d tasted the sourest lemon. I was positive the taste of the smoothie was causing her face to distort, but she hadn’t taken a sip.

  “Too soon to play the kissing card?” I questioned.

  She curled her hand, then stuck out her thumb and forefinger. “Just a wee bit.”

  I gave it a shot. It didn’t matter, though, because when the time came for the actual kissing, I was hoping she wouldn’t make the same face. I was aiming for bodies melting. A little toe-curling. And possibly a moan or two. All those reactions from her.

  Not that I had been thinking about it since I came up with this idea. Much.

  “How about I focus on the non-kissing items first, and when you’re comfortable with doing more, you let me know?”

  “Are you comfortable?” She quickly took a sip of her drink after asking. It was a move Tenley often did to cover her nervousness. I wondered if she was more nervous about asking or of my answer.

  “Yes. We’ve already kissed before.” Not only that, but it was Tenley. There was no reason to be nervous about kissing her. We’ve known each other forever, so when it came to kissing, I figured easy-peasy.

  Her smoothie hit the table with a thud. “You weren’t supposed to bring that up again. You promised.”

  “It’s been thirteen years. Last night, we were discussing doing more than a peck on the lips.” Which was what our first kiss basically was. “I thought it was up for discussion again.”

  “It was for seven minutes.”

  “The game was, not the kiss,” I reminded her. We were twelve, almost thirteen, at our first summer nighttime beach party where adults had just given us strict instructions to stay out of the pool. They were supervising from a distance, aka inside, while we were all outside drying off. The game of seven minutes in heaven started five minutes later.

  It was the awkward years when boys’ voices were cracking on every other word. Most of the girls were
taller than us, but we were hoping by the time school started, we would be taller and their voices would be higher than ours. Girls were developing while us boys needed to use our backpacks, towels or whatever was near for more than their designated use because we were taking notice of those changes. And the idea of kissing started to seem like a better idea than it had the previous year.

  When Keaton Valentine drew Tenley’s name from the hat, he wanted to switch for someone a little more filled out. I gave up my chance at sucking face with Amanda Goodwin so he could have his opportunity. Truthfully, I didn’t want my best friend within ten feet of Keaton even though I was, and still am, his friend. The guy had game since first grade.

  That was how I ended up in the pool changing room slash bathroom with Tenley’s lips pressed against mine. For half a minute, actually. We both moved a little fast to try to get it over, resulting in our faces smacking together at an awkward angle.

  “I cut you with my braces.”

  I rubbed my lip. “I remember.”

  “It was embarrassing.”

  “It worked out well for you. Your reputation moved from tomboy to wild girl. You got asked out by a handful of guys over the summer.”

  “It had nothing to do with my kissing ability or lack thereof. It was when the braces came off and these”—Tenley pointed at her boobs hidden under her laundry day T-shirt, which was also mine at one point— “all of a sudden showed up.”

  “I don’t recall you having boobies back then.” As far as when Tenley and I were in school, I had blinders on. I never considered her to be a sister type. If I did, I wouldn’t have asked her to help me. I knew she was a girl. And, yes, she was pretty, but she was also my best friend, so I just chose to ignore her developing female parts.

  Having a girl for a best friend was equal parts awesome and hell. And as we got older, it only grew harder to explain. One, if you were out together, there was always a conversation about whether we were together when we were both single. Two, if you were dating anyone, they were going to hate the fact that you were best friends with someone of the opposite sex. Three, your friends would hit on your best friend even if you made it clear she was off-limits. And four, even though you repeated one through three a million times, nobody believed you because something had to be going on between us on the down low. There wasn’t.