by Riley Jean
“But it was appropriate to do the same thing when I was in a relationship?”
I frowned. Was he insinuating it had been inappropriate all along? Things between us had always been strictly platonic. “That’s not fair.”
“No, this isn’t fair. You wanna ditch me now? I want to understand why. Why was it okay before?”
“Because you were…” I stopped myself mid-sentence, unable to finish that thought.
“What?” he pressed, shifting his weight forward again. He was so close I could feel his warmth. “Because I was what?”
Vance and I had grown so close over the last few months that the very thought of backing off hurt us both. The notion that I had developed an attachment to another guy frightened me, and I was frustrated at myself for letting it happen. Why didn’t I anticipate how things would change for us after they broke up? It shouldn’t have been this complicated. That meant only one thing—somewhere along the way, we had crossed a line.
“Because I was what?” he repeated.
I took a deep breath in, and then replied on an exhale.
“Because you were safe.”
* * *
“You don’t feel safe around me anymore?”
I looked down at my shoes. It was a horrible thing to tell him. Especially right after defending my trust for another. But it was the truth. Initially I trusted myself to be around Vance because he had a girlfriend. It was a safety net, where I didn’t have to worry about our friendship ever turning into something more. Now that he was single, that safety net was gone.
“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
Of course not. He had only ever been the perfect gentleman with me. A greater friend than I ever had or deserved. His overprotectiveness now was just another example of that. But there are some experiences in life that you can’t unlearn. Specifically, that they all seem nice at first. And that someone always gets hurt.
I wasn’t convinced that our friends were right. There was nothing romantic going on between Vance and me. I believed it was possible for a man and a woman to just be friends. That couldn’t be what was bothering me.
Could it?
Still… it was a reality check of how close Vance and I had become. All this time I’d been trying to keep myself behind a wall, but along the way, Vance had chipped away a tiny bit. We shared so much of ourselves over rock music and pancakes. He knew about Nathan, Miles, Lexi and Gwen. He knew about who I used to be, and who I had become. It made me nervous what else he would learn if we kept hanging out.
It’s not that I didn’t want to trust him; I did, and that’s what had me terrified.
“Are you just going to ignore me now?”
“What do you want me to say, Vance?” I whispered, having already given up.
“Well, first of all, I want you to not cut me out like some lost cause friend from your past.”
I sighed. He was right. That’s exactly what I was doing. He knew me too well… which was precisely the problem.
“And second,” he continued, “I want you tell me what I can do so that we can hang out and you won’t feel uncomfortable, just because I’m single now.”
I expected a bite behind his words, but he was patient as ever. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly where this anxious feeling came from. Was I just letting the girls’ comments get to me? Was it the fact that I suddenly realized how close Vance and I had grown, right under my nose? And how inappropriate it was that it all happened while he was in a relationship with someone else?
Oh what a mess.
“Why does it have to be so complicated?” I groaned, digging the heel of my palms into my eye sockets.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, gently prying the hands off my face and holding my wrists. His thumbs softly moved over my pulse points. I peeked up at him. Hope etched his features now.
“I don’t want things to change,” I pleaded.
He gave me an understanding look. “I’m still your friend, Rosie. That hasn’t changed. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I bit my lip. He was trying so hard, and I was just being stubborn. Maybe he was right, maybe there wasn’t any reason why things had to change. Vance had been a lot of things since last spring—my annoying coworker, my ride home, my source of laughter, my ear to listen, my voice of reason. My best, most solid friend. But the one thing he had never been was complicated. Just because those girls jumped to conclusions, there was no reason why we had to complicate things now.
“Okay,” I exhaled deeply, “I’m willing to give this a try. Friends?”
He grinned and opened his arms for an enormous hug. “Friends,” he agreed.
Instantly my eyes narrowed. We had just agreed to be friends; no changes, no complications. But hugs were never part of our status quo.
“Oh come on,” he teased, his arms still outstretched in offering. “You didn’t seem to mind being in my arms a couple weeks ago.”
My eyes rolled back in my skull, wishing he hadn’t reminded me of the fall. “As if I had a choice. And I was delirious at the time.”
“Friends can hug, you know. You won’t melt.”
I shook my head and turned away from him. This conversation was over. The way he was always trying to push me and then make a joke out of it was infuriating. I had my reasons for not wanting him to touch me, and it had nothing to do with anyone melting. Ridiculous.
He chuckled, then jogged a few steps to catch up with me.
“So no hugs,” he conceded. “How about handshakes?”
“No.”
“Fist bumps?”
I bit my bottom lip to stifle a traitorous smile. He was such a goober. “No.”
“But you let me touch you a minute ago? Is it because you weren’t looking?”
I stopped. What was he…? I looked at him in confusion, then followed his gaze when it darted back to the tree where we had been standing. When had he…? Damn. When I was leaning up against it, face buried in my hands in distress, he touched me. I hadn’t even noticed.
Anxiety rushed through my veins as I realized we were getting too comfortable around one another. Little by little I was letting him in, and we had just finished agreeing that things would remain simple. Why was he so eager to push my boundaries? I looked back to him, my features twisting into anger.
He held his palms up in an innocent gesture, but he looked more amused than threatened. “I’m just trying to learn your rules.”
My patience had run out. “It’s the same rule it’s always been, and that’s not going to change! You want to be friends? Keep your damn hands to yourself!”
* * *
When it was slow, we went to the back of the store to sit down—Gwen against one wall stirring her ice cream into soft serve, and me against the opposite wall, sitting cross-legged with a book. It wasn’t long before Gwen broke the silence.
“So… Smudgepot.”
I looked up to gauge her expression and was met with a probing raised eyebrow. I had a feeling I knew exactly where this conversation was about to go.
“It was a good game,” I responded indifferently. “Too bad you left early. We won.”
“You totally need to date him,” she said, straight to the punch.
I blinked at her guileless approach. “Who?”
Gwen pushed her black rimmed glasses higher on her nose. “Don’t play dumb, Scarlett. Vance.”
“Not you too,” I groaned. And I wasn’t playing dumb, she could have easily been talking about Ricky. There appeared to be the same amount of suspicion about that friendship, plus the added bonus of his reputation. Couldn’t anyone make up their minds about which rumors to follow?
“Vance and I are just friends, Gwen.”
“Then what was that thing? With Evelyn?”
“And who gave you the play-by-play?”
She just stared and waited me out.
“She pissed me off,” I admitted on an eye roll. “I was just returning the favor.”
Gwen smirked. “I heard she was shitting bricks.”
I grimaced, remembering her face when the boys dragged her away, and still feeling torn about my actions. “I know. It was pretty stupid.”
“But after that? At the cabin?”
“What about the cabin?” I asked. If she could have heard my pounding pulse, it definitely would’ve given me away. Was she referring to the lake? The spa? Had someone overheard our conversation in the trees?
“You know. Where you slept with Vance.”
“What?” I squeaked. “I most certainly did not!”’
“The proof doesn’t lie,” she declared with an evil glint. She was enjoying this way too much.
I shook my head, obstinate. “No. No way in hell did that happen.”
“Just how drunk were you that night?”
Not gonna lie, I was more than a little freaked out that the images of going to bed that night were fuzzy. But sleeping with anyone would’ve been something I’d remember. Right?
“Whatever Kiki and Summer told you, they lied. Vance would never… I would never!”
A wicked grin spread across her face. She dug into her pocket for her cell phone, pressed a few buttons, and displayed the screen to me. “Exhibit A.”
Holy… fudge…
My eyes just about popped out of their sockets as I took in the image. There we were across her screen. I was snuggled up to Vance on the couch, using his chest as a pillow and wearing a man’s t-shirt. He laid on his back with two arms wrapped securely around me. Both our eyes were closed.
How did this happen? The last thing I could remember was climbing out of the Jacuzzi. Or maybe being carried…
And then it came to me. Just a tiny bit of it… Laying with him like that, smiling at each other…
* * *
[Past – Smudgepot]
“My turn!” I giggled, and used to tip of my finger to trace the detailed shape, slowly, carefully, over his open palm.
“Did you really just draw that on me?”
I simply smiled back, blinking innocently.
“It’s supposed to be letters only, Rosie!”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
He tried to pull his hand away, but I gripped him tightly.
“Fine! I’ll write a word!” I caved and drew the first letter.
“V,” he said. “Let me guess—you’re going to write my name.”
How did he get it on the first letter! Laughing myself silly, I hurried to draw the rest of the letters with quick, sloppy strokes.
I giggled. He laughed at my giggle. I giggled at his laugh. Mmm. So warm. So snuggly. So sleepy…
“Olive…”
His fingers stilled in my hair. “You what?”
Boo. I liked his fingers playing in my hair. I didn’t want his fingers to stop playing in my hair. I pouted and snuggled deeper into him.
“Look at me, Rosie, what did you just say?”
Mmm. Slowly I looked up and there they were again, all three of them big and brilliant and staring right at me.
“Your eyes,” I said, trying my hardest not to slur this time. “They’re olive green…”
* * *
[Present]
I stared at the picture and lightly touched my shaky fingertips to my temple. Had I really fallen asleep in his arms? My nightmare had disoriented me; I couldn’t even recall Vance being there when I got up in the middle of the night.
I narrowed my eyes at Gwen for the way she played me. “You’re evil.”
She lifted a shoulder, unaffected. “Technicalities.”
I looked back at the picture and shook my head. “We were asleep.”
“That’s such a cop-out. At least you admit you want each other when you’re unconscious.”
Oh, no. She was not going to spin this into some made up love story. Vance and Evelyn had barely been broken up for a week. If anyone saw this photo, heard those rumors… the damage would be endless.
“You have to delete this picture.” Then I sprang into action and fiddled with the fancy screen until I found the trashcan button. A pop up message confirmed the picture was gone forever. Success!
“You do realize that’s not the original, right?”
…Shit.
“Who sent you this?” I demanded.
She shrugged, growing bored now. “Kiki.”
I groaned and rubbed my temples. This whole thing was getting out of control. Kiki could keep a secret about as well as I could tell a lie. Who else would see the picture? Vance? Evelyn? One post on the damn internet and the rumors would spread like wild fire.
I called Kiki right away to attempt some damage control.
Chapter 18
Assertive
“Empty Apartment” by Yellowcard
It was Saturday night, and somehow I’d convinced Vance and Summer to drive all the way down to the beach with me using very vague reasoning.
Upon our arrival, I entered with purpose, scanning the raucous crowd for Lexi while staying constantly aware of my surroundings. The party was in full swing. People loitered, danced, and drank in dim lighting and a haze of smoke. Different house, same scene. Miserable, lonely souls searching for that elusive feeling of purpose.
Compared to the last parties I had been to out here, I looked like a completely different person. Tonight, the way I carried myself affirmed that if anyone messed with me, they’d regret it. That didn’t make me invincible, but nobody knocked me over this time, either. It was all in the confidence and presentation.
Gone was the little blond wallflower standing in the corner, fading into the background. The white baby doll top had been traded in for a black sweater and a choker. The bashful smile replaced by a tight expression. I’d gone from Bubbles to Buttercup in a matter of months. So when the boys looked my direction, it couldn’t have been recognition. Could it? I turned away with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. How many of these people were just another Todd?
Summer grabbed a drink for herself and one for Vance, who thanked her then handed it off to someone else when she wasn’t looking. He was driving tonight, and I was glad he was cautious enough not to chance it, even with one drink.
“There you are!” Lexi trotted up to us wearing a purple mini dress with matching heels. Her hair was up and curled with pieces coming down at all the right places, and her makeup smoky and flawless. Nothing about her was ever understated.
“Check it out!” she pointed. “Bangs!”
I forced a smile. “Happy Birthday, Lexi. You look great.”
“I know, right!” she said and pulled me into a hug, then back away and studied me with a critical eye.
“This emo look kinda works for you, I guess. Especially if it lands you hotties like Ricky Storm.”
I grimaced. I hadn’t changed my look for boys. Quite the opposite, actually. But in a weird way, I knew she meant it as a compliment. And for Lexi, that was monumental.
“Uh… thanks,” I said awkwardly. I had to choose my battles.
She turned her charm on my friends. “And you even brought a Holloway to my party!”
Vance nodded a little stiffly. “Happy birthday, Lexi.”
“Aww, how sweet!” She grabbed his face and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. Summer’s eyes widened at her audacity while he fought to keep a straight face. They both looked so uncomfortable I almost, almost felt sorry for subjecting them to this. I couldn’t help my quiet snort when a pink smudge remained on his cheek.
“And this is Summer,” I reminded her.
“Right. Hi,” she flicked her hand dismissively. “Drinks are this way, guys!”
I grabbed her arm to stop her from going anywhere. “Do you have the package, Lexi?”
“What?” She turned towards me. “Oh that. Sure. I’ll get it later. The party’s just getting started, let’s have a little fun first!”
“I’d really like it now,” I asserted, not releasing her arm. “It’ll save me from having to interrupt you lat
er.”
Her face pinched, irritated. Good. There had been too many times that I couldn’t count on her at parties, and I wasn’t going to let her give me the brush off again tonight. We sure as hell hadn’t driven all the way here for the free beer.
“Fine.” She turned abruptly and I followed her step by step with Vance and Summer in tow.
We made our way through hordes of people. I certainly didn’t miss parties like this. My nose curled at the acrid scent of marijuana. Summer gasped when some guy smacked her ass as she passed. Poor thing. This wasn’t her scene, and she stood out just as I once had. I scowled at the guy and linked her arm with mine.
Lexi stopped to talk to a few people, but to my surprise she didn’t stall for long. She probably just wanted me out of her hair. Once we got to a room with purses and coats, she pulled a small notebook out of her bag.
And then, no casing or envelope to cover it, there it was.
It had been eight months since I’d last seen my journal. I swallowed, immediately recognizing the heart with angel wings drawn on the front. As soon as I moved to take it, she pulled it out of reach.
“This is some pretty serious stuff,” she said, swinging it back and forth above my head. “So who was this guy?”
My anger flared in an instant. Evidently it was too much to hope that she hadn’t read it. She couldn’t have grasped the degree of cruelty she yielded in taunting me about the man in my journal. He had still been with me in the final entry.
Undaunted, I spoke through my teeth. “Give me the damn journal.”
She faked a gasp and clutched her chest. “I thought ladies don’t swear,” she said in an over-exaggerated southern accent that I hadn’t used since elementary school. I wanted to smack the sadistic grin off her face. She was getting under my skin, and enjoying it. “Apparently they keep secrets from their best friends, too.”
“Lexi,” I warned. “Hand it over. Now.”
The room simmered with tension as a struggle for control ensued. Her lifetime of superiority battled with my years of built up resentment, fueling a dangerous fire in our standoff for control. I had never talked back to Lexi before, but the new Scar refused to submit to her games any longer.
