Just Friends

by Melody Summers

  “Cute boy,” Molly agreed.

  Allison grinned as Dylan walked up. “And speak of the devil.”

  “Should my ears be burning?” Dylan asked with a mischievous grin.

  “Not another word,” I warned my friends, who made an exaggerated show of zipping their lips.

  “Did you get a lot of work done on your art project?” he asked me.

  “Oh, yeah. I spent half the night on it.”

  The buzzer for first period echoed through the quad, and we all gathered up our things. Dylan held out a hand.

  “Why don’t you show me while I walk you to class?”

  “Okay,” I said, taking his hand while ignoring the smug looks flying between my friends.

  They’d all had their own boyfriend issues and had no business throwing rocks at me from inside their little glass houses. All I knew was that it felt good. I didn’t have to worry about ambiguous feelings for an old boyfriend who couldn’t be my boyfriend anymore, the constant struggle to deal with an impossible situation that was never going to get any better. As we walked I showed off the latest updates on my drawings. Dylan’s smile told me that I was on the right track.

  “You did it, Dani. I knew you would.”

  “All thanks to you.”

  He shrugged that off. “You would have gotten there on your own. You just needed to clear your head and reboot your thinking about it.”

  That earned a laugh. “You spend way too much time with your computers.”

  “Well, I had to find something to do with all the free time I suddenly had on my hands.”

  “From what I heard you did a pretty good job filling it with various forms of blonde, brunette, and redhead.”

  “Are you going to keep holding that against me if I promise I’m a one woman kind of guy now?”

  “Well… Let’s see how you do for a while before we wipe the slate clean.”

  Dylan grinned. “Fair enough. I’ve got to get to class.” He bent and gave me a quick but thorough kiss that seriously violated the school’s no PDA policy and left my heart racing. “Later, beautiful.”

  His parting grin lingered in my mind, disturbingly like Ashton’s. I threw myself into my seat with a groan. Why did I have to keep thinking about Ashton? I had Dylan now and he was awesome, someone I could have a real relationship with. I needed to get past my fixation on Ashton.

  I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ashton at lunchtime. We hadn’t spoken since he’d seen me kissing Dylan at the party, and when he showed up in the cafeteria it was every bit as awkward as I’d feared. Ashton barely said two words to anyone and wouldn’t look at me. It left me torn with guilt for hurting him, but what about me? I’d tried. I’d given us every chance, but we just didn’t work. I’d been hurt again and again by his parents, by his inability to stand up to them. Hadn’t I been through enough? Didn’t I deserve a chance to be happy?

  Dylan observed from a distance but made no attempt to join us. Apparently he had picked up on the weird vibe coming from our table and decided that caution was the better part of valor. I couldn’t blame him, and was glad he left the situation alone. His presence at our table would only have made things worse.

  As the bell rang to summon us to our next class I decided I had to make an attempt. I hurried after Ashton and caught his arm.

  “Ash, wait.”

  Slowly he faced me, although his eyes refused to meet mine. “Look. I don’t blame you. I really don’t. But not right now, Dani. Please?”

  The pain in his voice tugged at my heart, and my fingers slipped from his arm. Without another word he pushed into the crowd and vanished. It hurt and it wasn’t fair, but what else could we do? We couldn’t keep on going the way we had been. It was no good for either of us. But this didn’t feel good, either.

  What did feel good was the expression on Ms. Hobson’s face that afternoon when she got a look at my updated drawings.

  “I guess that means you like them?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding? These are alive. They’re full of you. They’re exactly what I wanted from you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How did you finally make the breakthrough?”

  I shrugged with pretended nonchalance. “Someone showed me that I was looking at things wrong.”

  Ms. Hobson’s face lit in an impish smile. “This someone didn’t happen to be a boy, did he?”

  “Could be.”

  “Well, you might consider keeping him around if he’s going to inspire you to do work like this.”

  “Maybe I will.” I was certainly willing to try.

  While over the next few days Ashton kept his distance, Dylan and I talked often and spent more time together at school. He made it easy. We were comfortable together, and he wasn’t demanding or pushy. Thursday night he called after football practice.

  “Working on your art project?” he asked.

  “Nah. I’m slacking and watching TV. You?”

  “Physics homework.”

  “Ewww. Better you than me.”

  “Thanks for your display of compassion.”

  “It’s the least I could do for you.”

  “I can think of one thing you could do for me,” he said in a low, suggestive voice.

  “Hey, now. Pump your brakes, buddy.”

  His laughter filled the phone. “Go out with me Saturday.”

  “All right. What are we going to do?”

  “I have to help my dad out in the morning. How about a late lunch then a movie? After that we can play it by ear.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll pick you up around 1:30.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Okay. I need to get back to my physics.”

  “Have fun with that.”

  “Nite, beautiful.”

  “Good night, flatterer.”

  Ashton was still avoiding me, which I guess was fair because I’d been doing the same to him before the Halloween party. Every time I saw him guilt threatened to overwhelm me. He was my best friend, and it hadn’t been right to treat him the way I had. I should have found some other way to resolve our issues, but I just couldn’t see how to fix things or get past everything between us without some distance, no matter how much it hurt. So I let it go and tried to put it out of my mind, hoping that time would sort it all out.

  On a good note I turned in my art project, confident that it was among my best work so far. Apparently Ms. Hobson felt the same, because she assured me that it would take a prominent place in the Thanksgiving display at the bank downtown. I was feeling better about my art and about art as a career than I had in months. I really had turned a corner.

  Saturday afternoon Dylan picked me up promptly at 1:30, and we had lunch on the patio of one of the restaurants down on the beach. It was November now, but the sun was out and the air was still so the afternoon was warm enough to be pleasant. Dylan proved good company away from school—a good conversationalist with a sense of humor and willingness to tease that added a little edginess to our talk to make it exciting.

  Afterwards we went to see the new superhero movie. While we watched, my thoughts drifted back to the last movie I’d seen with Ashton. For some reason, even though this was a “real” date, I felt none of the nervousness I’d experienced that night with Ashton. It was a relief to be able to enjoy the movie with Dylan without freaking myself out, to share a tub of popcorn without flinching if our fingers touched. And when he took my hand halfway through the film it didn’t leave me all worked up with angst over an impossible relationship.

  I leaned back into my seat with a sigh. Why couldn’t it have been easy like this with Ashton?

  When the movie was over we walked around through the historic shops downtown for a while. My long creative dry spell was over—ideas sprang up from everything that I saw around me. Dylan followed quietly, perhaps realizing what was going on in my mind and giving me some space to process it. I squeezed his hand in gratitude.

  “You’re a good
sport for putting up with this.”

  “I’m just enjoying the scenery,” he said with a wink.

  I bumped him playfully with my hip. “Behave!”

  “I am behaving,” he protested. “I can’t help it that you’re gorgeous.”

  “All right, Mr. Bad Boy. Don’t go spoiling all the brownie points you’ve earned tonight.”

  He tugged me closer for a quick kiss. “I’ll be good and save them for later, then.”

  I shivered a little at the heat simmering in his eyes. Maybe those fireworks weren’t so far off after all.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  He gestured towards the restaurant next door. “Why don’t we go in and get some wings or nachos or something?”

  “Sure.”

  When he opened the door for me he left his hand resting on the small of my back. The warmth of his palm was comforting, possessive. I hadn’t felt that in so long, not since before I’d broken things off with Ashton. If only...

  I shook my head to clear it of those unwelcome thoughts. That was all over now. It was time to move on, time to live my life. It was time for more than just friends.

  Chapter Eight

  The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to push forward. Dylan seemed perfect, everything I could want—hot, sexy, smart, funny, and into me. I needed to run with that, to see what I could make out of it. I just wasn’t entirely sure what my next move should be.

  On Sunday morning I sat around considering that while I binge watched Netflix. I was at loose ends because I’d turned in my art project and didn’t have anything else lined up to work on. And then the light went on. That was it. I needed a new project to keep myself occupied, and since Dylan had been the one to kick start my creativity on my last project, why not start the next project with him? I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

  Me: Good morning!

  Dylan: You sound awfully cheerful for this time of day, Miss “I Hate Mornings”

  Me: Well, I had a pretty good day yesterday

  Dylan: Oh really?

  Me: Yeah, and I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together today?

  Dylan: I might be persuaded

  Dylan: Will this involve more kissing?

  Me: It might

  Dylan: Then I’m all yours

  Me: Good to know

  Dylan: What are we doing?

  Me: Going to the beach

  Dylan: Okaaaaay

  Dylan: Please tell me we’re not going swimming

  Me: LOL! No! I’m going to start a new art project. I thought the beach would be a good source of inspiration and wanted you to come

  Dylan: Oh, I get it. You want to use my unconventional way of looking at your art to give you new ideas

  Dylan: I can live with that :)

  Me: You are such a jerk. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you

  Dylan: Nah. But you can pay for my creative services with kisses

  Me: Deal. I’ll pick you up in half an hour

  Dylan: Is that a good idea? I’ve heard stories about your driving

  Me: Hey!

  Dylan: Give me 45 minutes. That’ll give me time to update my will

  Me: Or I could just go without you

  Dylan: All right. No more jokes about your driving

  Dylan: But I will be looking forward to those kisses

  Me: Fair enough. See you then

  I was smiling as I put my phone down. This was getting fun.

  When I picked Dylan up I was careful to go easy with my driving. I wasn’t going to give him any reason to tease me about it later. I already got enough of that from my friends than I cared for. Dylan had the sense to keep any rude comments to himself—another point in his favor. Ashton always had to throw in some kind of snide remark.

  And why was I thinking about Ashton again? I gave myself a mental kick. There would be no more thinking about Ash, especially while I was out with Dylan.

  A cold front had blown in the night before, and leaden clouds obscured the sun which had been so pleasant the day before. Icy wind off the Gulf cut through me like a bitter knife, and I huddled into my coat for warmth as I stepped out of the car with my sketchbook and pencils. Seeing me shiver, Dylan wrapped an arm around me.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked.

  “No. But I’m doing it anyway.”

  He gave me a playful squeeze. “Why am I not surprised? Come on, beautiful. Let’s find you an art project. Hopefully before we both freeze to death.”

  I took his hand and led him down to the beach. The wind sighed through the restless palms while the surf charged across the sand in foamy, gray-green swirls. In the distance the dark, roiling sea blended with the sullen sky until you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other started. Taken together it all added up to a dramatic winter scene, but there was nothing worthy of a new project by itself. It needed more—something was missing.

  I sat down on the chilly sand and chewed absently on the end of a pencil while I tried to let go and allow my mind to float free. Dylan’s fingers brushed through my hair to clear wind-blown strands from my face.

  “I’ll give you a few to do your thing,” he said.

  I gave him a grateful smile, then he turned away to wander idly along the water’s edge. After a minute he stopped and stared out into the endless distance. He cut a dark, lonely figure in his leather jacket and jeans with the wind ruffling his hair, lonely but strong against the raw wildness of the day. And with that it came to me. I opened my sketch pad with a sigh. The boy was like magic. Now if I could just capture some of it on paper.

  I sketched as quickly as my stiff, half-frozen fingers would allow, willing Dylan not to move, and tried to create a snapshot in my head so I could finish the drawing when he inevitably did. It sucked me in until I lost myself so that I didn’t even realize that he had come back and was staring raptly at the drawing in my lap. I jumped a little, startled by his unexpected presence at my side.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “I just got caught up in it.”

  “So is that me?”

  “Yeah.”

  He was quiet for a minute. “That’s how you see me?”

  I nodded, suddenly shy. I probably shouldn’t have done it. The drawing was too personal, which was why I normally didn’t draw real people.

  His voice grew soft. “And you called me a flatterer. Thanks, Dani.”

  With a sigh I closed my sketch pad and jammed my pencils into my jacket pocket. The moment had passed, but I still had a clear memory of what the drawing should be to call upon later.

  “I’ll finish it at home,” I said.

  Dylan looked down at me with a lopsided smile. “You’re going to let me see it when you do, right?”

  “Of course. Can we walk for a while?”

  He tugged me up off the sand and we set out along the beach together with his arm snug around my waist. I leaned in close, basking in the comfort of his warmth against the brutal wind. It was far too cold to walk in the surf or bury my toes in the sand today, but I soaked in the wildness of the day tempered by Dylan’s comforting presence. All the while I studied the image I held in my mind.

  I stopped and wrapped my arms around him. “I believe you’re owed some payment for your creative services.”

  “I was hoping you’d remember.”

  Our lips were cold, but a little kissing soon warmed them up and Dylan seemed determined to get full value for that picture. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt frustrated. Good as it was, there were just no tingles or butterflies. It was still only nice. Agitated, I slid my arms up around his neck and practically threw myself at him. It had to happen—unless there was something wrong with me. There was certainly nothing wrong with Dylan’s kissing skills. But it didn’t.

  Dylan pulled away first. “Whew. Paid in full, beautiful. With a hefty down payment for next time.”

  “I’ll have to come up wi
th a new project soon, then.”

  “We should head back. You’re freezing.”

  I held his hand tightly while we walked to my car, but I couldn’t seem to hold onto the emotions twisting inside of me. It didn’t make any sense. Why couldn’t I feel anything? Was there something wrong with me? Was all the stuff with Ashton my fault somehow, because I didn’t feel what I should have for him? Or maybe I hadn’t felt strongly enough?

  And now I was back to thinking about Ashton. There really was something wrong with me, but I didn’t want Dylan to know. Whatever my problem was, I was going to get past it with Dylan’s help, whether he realized it or not. I’d been unfair to him, and I felt bad about that. He was such a nice guy and he’d been keeping his distance from me and my friends at school because of my history with Ashton, but that situation wasn’t his fault. If I was going to keep him around, things had to change. It was time to take the next step.

  Next morning before school I brought it up with my friends.

  “I want to talk about Dylan.”

  Delaney looked up from her phone with an eager grin. “Finally!”

  “I guess the kisses got better,” Allison said.

  “I’m serious, guys.”

  Molly leaned towards me and folded her hands on the table. “So are we. Tell us everything.”

  “I’ll tell you this—I’m seeing a lot of him, and I’d like to see more of him.”

  “That’s awesome, Dani,” Delaney said.

  “Yeah. But I want to include him in our group here at school, too.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh, my.”

  Allison turned to her. “What? I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Ashton. That’s what,” Delaney told her.

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t think of that.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “That’s because you were too interested in hearing all the juicy details about Dylan.”

  “It isn’t fair to keep Dylan at arm’s length from my friends because of my former relationship with Ash,” I said.

  “But what about what’s fair to Ashton?” Delaney asked. “He’s our friend, too.”

  I sighed. “We’ve been broken up for over a year, Laney.”