Just Friends

by Elana Johnson

  She shook her head.

  “My house?” I said.

  She glanced at me so fast I couldn’t read anything in her expression.

  “My house,” I confirmed. “Did you sleep last night?”

  She shook her head, tears trickling down her cheeks again.

  “You’re taking a nap,” I said. “Have you eaten?”

  “Crackers,” she said.

  My heart ached for her. Her mother was in no condition to make a meal—in fact, I’d have to tell Mom to make sure someone took them dinner tomorrow—and Holly obviously was so distressed she couldn’t think past Scott leaving.

  “I’ll make you something,” I said, though I couldn’t cook and Holly knew it. I’d ask Drew to help; she loved Holly as much as I did.

  I stumbled over my feet. Did I love Holly?

  I didn’t say anything else the rest of the way back. At my house, I told Holly to go upstairs and lie down, and I recruited Drew to help me make something to eat. Turned out the best thing she could make was scrambled eggs, so she did that while I slathered toast with raspberry jam.

  “Is she okay?” Drew asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Didn’t seem like it. She just sort of ran away.”

  “Did you talk about—you know?”

  “No.” I screwed the lid back on the jam jar. “But she told me she hasn’t slept or eaten in a while.”

  “Maybe her house is just too…” Drew waved the wooden spoon to finish her sentence, and I understood.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  We finished up and Drew handed me the plate of food. “Can you come with me?” I glanced toward the stairs, a squirmy feeling in my stomach.

  Drew looked at me, and a strange understanding passed between us. “Yeah,” she said, leading the way.

  I expected to find Holly in Drew’s bed or sitting in the window seat in her bedroom. She wasn’t. I studied my closed bedroom door.

  “Good thing I came,” Drew whispered as she opened the door.

  Holly was asleep in my bed, the covers pulled all the way to her chin.

  22

  I wrote my history essay at five-thirty on Monday morning, knowing I’d be lucky to get a four on the stupid thing. I didn’t care. I’d had an amazing date with my girlfriend on Saturday, and I helped my best friend on Sunday. History essays seemed pointless in comparison.

  Mr. Thompson wouldn’t agree, but I wouldn’t have to face that music for another week. Last week’s essay—which I’d written without Holly—earned me a nine, so maybe I was better at essay writing than I thought. When I texted Jade, her only response was Have you written that entrance exam essay for KU?

  I fired back a quick Stop badgering me, Ms. Stubbornpants, which almost made her stubborn streak tolerable.

  History was horribly lonely without Holly. Even though we hadn’t been talking for a few weeks, she was there, sitting in front of me and breathing.

  History is torture without you, I texted, but she didn’t respond. She was probably still asleep. I didn’t want to admit that she might be avoiding me. We hadn’t discussed anything, and the more time that passed the more strained our silence became.

  She’d slept in my room until almost ten, and then she’d come stumbling out. Dad had called her mom, so there were no consequences, but I let Drew take her home so I didn’t have to be alone with her.

  Later, when I’d gone to bed, I could smell Holly’s skin on my sheets. They smelled soft and powdery, and surprisingly I was embarrassed to be lying in the same place she had even though it was my bed. I’d lain awake for a while, wondering if I should text Jade and tell her about the afternoon’s events. She’d undoubtedly ask about my practice session with Charity, which I had canceled, and I’d have to tell her something.

  I spent lunch with Charity, making up for the lost practice time. Tryouts for the show choir were in two weeks, and she wanted me to sing A Little Fall of Rain from Les Mis for the audition. I loved Les Mis, but the duet was terribly romantic.

  I threaded my fingers through hers as I sang, ignoring the other students in the choir room and focusing my energy on singing the right notes and feeling the emotion of the song. When the last notes faded, I realized how silent the classroom had become.

  I stepped away from Charity, unsure of how we’d gotten so close, and dropped her hands. They were larger than Jade’s—everything about Charity was. She beamed at me as the room exploded in applause. I ducked my head, embarrassed but strangely pleased.

  “After school?” she asked.

  “I have track. Another meet this Friday,” I said. “But maybe after dinner?”

  “I don’t think you need to practice at all!” Leslie came bounding over to us, with Miranda right behind her. “That was beautiful.”

  Charity smoothed her hair down as I reached for my backpack. “I’ll text you,” I said. “Like, say, eight would probably work.”

  “At your house?” Charity asked as more girls gathered around us.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. We could practice in the basement. Maybe I could convince Drew to come down and listen so I didn’t have to be alone with Charity. I couldn’t decipher the look on her face, but it made my chest feel too tight.

  The bell rang, and I escaped the choir room, which I’d suddenly realized was full of only girls.

  “Sorry, I turned off my phone yesterday,” I said as a way of greeting Jade outside of English lit.

  She smiled and reached for my hand, and I felt the difference when she touched me than when Charity did. This thing with Jade made my heart beat in a funky rhythm, and all I thought about were the things about her I didn’t know yet. We didn’t go in the classroom, and this new interaction threw me off almost as much as realizing what I needed to say next.

  “Holly came over last night,” I blurted out. “I mean, sort of. We went over there, and they were in a bad place, and she slept in my bed.” The words were coming out all jumbled, and definitely in the wrong order.

  Jade’s face paled and she opened her mouth in surprise. I squeezed her hand and tried again.

  “Her brother is leaving. Going to Kansas City to live with their dad. Holly hasn’t been sleeping or eating, so we brought her to our house. She fell asleep while Drew and I were making her something to eat.”

  Jade closed her mouth and swallowed. She nodded and turned to go into class.

  “Are you mad?” I asked. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

  Jade paused, waiting for me to finish. She turned back to me, a calculating glint in her eye. “You’re what?”

  “Sorry?” I guessed. I’d never seen her look at me like this, but I recognized the disdain in her expression. She’d glared at Holly with much the same venom.

  “Why?”

  I didn’t like her question because I didn’t know how to answer it. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” she said, dropping my hand and folding her arms.

  “You look sort of mad.” Though mad wasn’t the right word. Livid, actually, but in a calm, creepy kind of way.

  “It’s fine,” she said, which meant it wasn’t fine. I’d lived with Drew long enough to know that when girls said “fine” they meant “I’m pissed, but I’m not going to tell you that.”

  “Jade—”

  “I thought you said you weren’t even talking to her.”

  “I wasn’t, I’m not, it’s just…” I said. “I’m just so used to helping her.”

  “I understand,” Jade said, spinning and striding into the classroom. I watched her settle into her seat and take out a folder. She removed a piece of paper and sat straight and square.

  Definitely not fine, and she definitely didn’t understand. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text. It’s meatball monday and I have to practice with charity after that. Maybe u could come to both?

  She bent her head to check her phone, but I still saw the smile that twitched against her mouth. I grinned too, proud of this New-Mitch
who could text exactly the right thing at exactly the right time.

  I guess, she texted back. She won’t be there, right?

  I didn’t need to ask who she was. Again, I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or annoyed by Jade’s possessive and jealous behavior.

  nope, I texted as I moved to my seat.

  “Mitch,” someone hissed, and I turned. Ivy was holding a sack lunch toward me. She glanced to Jade and looked away fast.

  I reached for the food Ivy held. “Thanks.” I turned around before Jade could erase the displeasure from her face. When she met my eye, she smoothed everything behind her prettiest smile.

  I sat down and pulled out the sandwich Ivy had gotten me, fully aware that Jade had staked out her territory—me. Maybe she wasn’t upset with me at all. Maybe I shouldn’t feel the need to tell her everything.

  She’ll be pissed if she knew Holly kissed you—before sleeping in your bed. My thoughts were hissing and low, and difficult to erase. I finished eating just as the bell rang and Mrs. Nordstrom leapt from her desk.

  “Outlines due!” she called, and my heart seized. I’d forgotten about the outline. I sunk low in my seat and kept my eyes on my desk while everyone turned in their homework. I warred with myself over the missing assignment. I needed to get my head back into school, or Mom would limit the time I could spend with Jade. At the same time, it actually felt good to be the guy who didn’t have every piece of homework done and ready. The guy who wasn’t responsible. Maybe I liked this New-Mitch side of myself.

  At dinner, Jade laughed with Drew, and Mom only stared at me for the first half of the meal. Dad was unusually quiet, and escaping to the unfinished basement with Jade was a relief.

  Bare bulbs were stuck in the ceiling, with long strings I had to pull to get the electricity to come on. My dad’s cold storage took up the back half of the basement—the part directly under the garage—and Mom’s sewing room was in the corner by the French doors.

  Jade shivered in the cool darkness, and I put my arms around her. “Thanks for coming,” I said.

  “My parents want you to come to dinner again,” she said, tilting her head back to look at me. She didn’t put her arms around me, but kept them folded against my chest as a tremor worked through her body.

  “Great, I like your parents,” I said. “We can open the door and it’ll warm up.” I released her and opened the basement door that led to the backyard. We’d sat in the swing just to the side of the door last week, and that was where Jade went again.

  “It’s freezing in there. How are you going to sing?”

  I sat next to her. “It’s not that cold.” I loved the basement. Last summer, I’d set up my tent and lived down there for the entire month of June. Mom didn’t like the easy access to the backyard, claiming I could sneak out and she’d never know. I’d told her I didn’t have anywhere to sneak off to, but she made me take down the tent and sleep in my bedroom for the rest of the summer anyway. As if my window access to the roof wasn’t just as easy an exit. Now that Jade and I were together, I might actually have somewhere to sneak off to.

  The sun was low enough that our backyard wasn’t baking. Jade rubbed her arms. “I love autumn,” she said.

  “You were just complaining about the cold.”

  She threw me a glance. “I like how it cools off at night, and how the leaves change color.”

  I had to agree with her. It was nice to sit outside and not feel like my bones were going to melt. My phone buzzed, and I stood up. “Charity’s here.” I texted her to come around back, and a minute later she showed up, brandishing a CD.

  I rooted around on Dad’s shelves and found my old CD player. Once it was plugged in, Charity and I were ready to rehearse. She didn’t complain about the cold, just threw her bag on the floor and sang a scale to warm up. Her high soprano filled the basement and echoed off the walls.

  I chased her scale with one of my own, and then we were ready. Jade had stayed outside, but the door was open and the music was loud enough to fill the neighborhood.

  We sang through A Little Fall of Rain once to warm up. Charity held back on the swells and high notes, but even still, after the first run through, I turned to find Drew sitting on the stairs, watching us.

  My sister smiled at me, making me suddenly nervous.

  “Ready?” Charity asked.

  I nodded as she set the CD again. I needed to block everything and everyone out, the same way I did when I ran. As the music began and Charity started her part, I forced my sister from my mind. I ignored Jade rocking on the swing. I forgot about Holly and Scott.

  I saw only Charity. Heard only her words. Felt only their emotion. When I opened my mouth and inserted my voice where it needed to go, it felt natural. I traced my fingers down the side of her face; she pressed her cheek to my chest; we sang a love song as her character died.

  After the music faded, our voices were still trapped in the cement walls of the basement. We clung to each other as if Charity had truly died and I truly loved her.

  “Wow,” Drew whispered, shattering the illusion. I stepped away from Charity and cleared my throat.

  Jade was leaning in the doorway now, her eyes wide and glued to me. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised or upset or happy.

  “Again?” Charity asked. “I think I’m missing that low note on that I don’t feel any pain part.” She sang the stanza, and she was above the note on rain and now.

  “Sharp,” I said, grateful for a reason to look away from Jade. “It’s down here.” I sang the lines and she joined in an octave higher, the note settling in her throat. I nodded. “Like that.”

  She started the music, and we sang it through again. This time, Jade moved further into the room and settled on the steps with Drew. Her cold stare me nervous, and I missed several notes in the middle. Charity glanced at Jade, frowned, and stopped the music.

  “Again,” I said, and she didn’t say anything else before pressing play.

  We sang the song eight times, and by then I was ready to quit. “I think it’s good,” I said. “We should practice again this weekend, though.”

  “Sure,” Charity said, packing up her bag. “I’m free on Saturday morning.”

  “Great.” I closed the basement door and ushered her upstairs. Drew had only stayed through the first three takes of the song, but Jade had sat on the steps for the whole rehearsal.

  “I’m taking Jade home,” I said as I grabbed the car keys from the hook.

  Mom waved from the living room, where she was watching a cooking show, and Dad came down the hall from his office. “I need to talk to you when you get back,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said, following Charity and Jade into the garage. After saying goodbye to Charity, she drove off, and I opened the passenger door for Jade.

  “Thanks,” I said, settling into the car and starting it. “I’m sure that was boring.”

  “It was not,” she said. “You’re a great singer.” She looked at me. “Really great, Mitch. I’ve never heard anyone sing like that.”

  “Sure you have,” I said. “Everyone sings like that on Broadway.”

  “You have no idea how good you are, do you?”

  I didn’t know what she meant. “I just open my mouth and it comes out.”

  She went back to studying her hands. “What are you thinking about? You know, when you sing that song?”

  “It’s a song about losing the one you love most. I’m not thinking anything.”

  “You look like you’re in love with Charity when you sing it,” she said, really soft like she didn’t want the words to come out and scare me. “I just thought, maybe you, you know, were thinking of me.”

  “It’s—” I stopped, unsure what to say. I wasn’t thinking of Jade. I wasn’t thinking of Charity. It was like running, I did it so I didn’t have to think at all. That was why I loved it. I pulled into Jade’s driveway, still trying to figure out what to say.

  Instead of saying anything, I reached for her a
nd kissed her, hoping that would say everything I felt about her. Was it love? Doubtful, as I’d only been dating her for six weeks. Could it be love? I had no idea. I couldn’t even decide where to go to college—or if I even wanted to go to college.

  Jade slid herself onto my lap with the ease of someone who’d maneuvered that way in a car before. I reached down to release the seat so it would go back as far as possible. She didn’t let our mouths part for more than a beat or two, and freak, the girl was an excellent kisser. Bravely, I slid my lips over her chin to her neck, and it was just as soft and delicate as I’d imagined on Homecoming night.

  All my muscles tensed when she pulled the lever to lower the seat and we fell back. She pressed the length of her body against mine and sighed as I slid my hands under her shirt. Then she was kissing me again. I didn’t know what had gotten into her, but I kinda liked it.

  “Mitch,” she breathed into my ear, but I couldn’t respond. Her hand had wandered to my waistband and then her cold fingers slithered over my stomach and up my ribs. I shuddered as fire raced through my veins.

  What would it be like to lie next to her? Properly, not in the car where we couldn’t really reach each other the way we wanted. With clean sheets below and above us, and only what we were feeling between us. I didn’t know, but my body could imagine, and it was screaming to do it.

  “I don’t have—” I started, but my voice cut off as she kissed me. I had no idea how long we were in the car. It was dark, and she was soft under her clothes, and I didn’t want to be anywhere without her again.

  Sharp knocking on the window drew a gasp from both of us. Knuckles on glass. I yanked my eyes open and looked straight into the angry face of Jade’s father. Jade swore as she scrambled off me and into her seat, hastily adjusting her shirt while I hurried to lift my seat back to its upright position. Her father motioned for me to roll the window down, and I couldn’t see another option, so I did.

  “Come in for a minute, Mitch,” he said. His voice didn’t sound angry, but the frown in his eyebrows and the vein jumping in his temple told a different story. He leaned further in the window. “Jade, go inside, please.”