Every Other Weekend(25)
“Whoa, are you crying, Jo? Man, I’m good.”
I laughed a little and blinked the moisture from my eyes. “Yeah, it’s good. I was imagining the video I could make.”
Gabe grinned. “Hell yes. We’ve got over thirty thousand views on the first one. We might even be able to pay you with more than free-hug coupons for this one.”
“Send it to me—” I pointed at the speakers “—and I’ll start working on it.”
“Awesome,” Gabe said. “Thanks.”
“You know, I could walk to the game faster than this,” Cherry said, leaning forward to rest her chin on the back of my seat. “Just saying.”
Gabe sped up, then came to an abrupt stop when we reached the school, causing both Cherry and me to jerk forward against our seat belts before slamming back.
Cherry smacked him and he groaned much louder than the hit required. I wasn’t the only one who noticed the difference. Cherry and I turned to see what her brother was looking at, and I had to hold back my own groan.
Cherry’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, Meneik, was strolling toward us, right arm swinging like he was listening to music only he could hear. Even when she hated him, Cherry always said Meneik had mad swagger. He also had rich dark skin, a lean, muscled physique, and cheekbones so chiseled that they’d landed him a few modeling jobs. Plus, he was a senior and had had his own car long before Gabe got minivan privileges.
I never saw the appeal beyond his pretty exterior—okay, and maybe the fact that he could drive us places—but Meneik didn’t look so cute when he was yelling at Cherry for not answering his texts fast enough or laying down the mother of all guilt trips when she wanted to hang out with her friends instead of spending every night with him. He never got violent or cheated or anything, but he manipulated and isolated and tried to control every aspect of her life. She had no choices, no freedom, no support. He made sure the only thing she had was him, and he somehow managed to convince my funny and fearless friend that she didn’t want anything else. At least, not when he was around.
Their latest breakup had been the longest one yet, after Meneik lost it when Cherry had visited her grandmother in the hospital instead of going to his basketball game. He flat out told her that her grandmother’s hip would still have been broken after his game. No amount of backpedaling and telling her that he needed his lucky charm had worked, which had given me one blissful, Meneik-free month with her that I’d thought would last. One glance at the smile spreading across Cherry’s face was all it took to show me they were back on again.
She burst out of the van and ran to him, jumping onto him and sealing her mouth to his and I accidentally slammed my elbow into the van’s horn while twisting around to grab Cherry’s and my soccer bags from the back. If I were Meneik, I’d be able to sell that story. Since I was not, I was treated to a disbelieving glare and one artfully arched eyebrow.
“Cherish,” Meneik said, tugging her back to him for one last kiss. “It’s all good.” He told “Baby” he’d call her later before striding back to his car as I joined Cherry. I guess she was expected to be at all his games, but the same rule didn’t apply to him.
“What happened to ‘I don’t want to waste another second of my life on that jerk?’” I asked in a tone that sounded more weary than angry.
Cherry took her bag and turned toward the field without meeting my gaze. “Don’t give me a hard time, okay?”
“Hey,” I said, matching her stride. “I’m only quoting what you said to me. But come on, he’s not worth it. You agreed, and—”
Her eyes flashed as they finally met mine. “You need to stop.” Then she sighed and shook her head at me. “See, this is why I didn’t tell you. You don’t get it. You’ve never been in love.”
My cheeks flushed hot. No, I hadn’t, but I was a walking, talking casualty of it, and that was reason enough not to want any part of it. Love—the romantic kind—existed only in Nora Ephron movies, and we didn’t get to live in those.
“Meneik and me? We’re always going to get back to each other. You either get that—” she lifted her bag over her shoulder “—or you don’t.” Then she sidestepped me and jogged across the parking lot to where the rest of the team was waiting.
Cherry and I both moved through the game without our usual trash talk and laughter. Our teammates noticed and started asking what was up, but neither of us answered.
Without discussing it, after the game, we put on a show of normalcy for her parents, but on the drive home Cherry turned the music all the way up the second Gabe started the engine.
ADAM
“Hey, Adam. Got a minute?” On Monday afternoon, Erica Porter waved me over to her table in the cafeteria, eliciting a few grumbled comments from my friends Gideon and Rory. As I headed toward her, Rory muttered, “Lucky bastard,” and I couldn’t help but smile. Apart from being valedictorian, being noticed by Erica Porter was the epitome of my high school aspirations.
My heart started pounding as I drew closer to her table, so much so that I was sure she’d see it through my shirt. Erica wasn’t just beautiful, with her honey-blond hair, hazel eyes, and flawless tan skin, she was the kind of gorgeous that made it hurt to look at her for very long. Seeing her was like staring at the sun. Sure, there was a chance that you’d go blind, but she was so brilliant, you risked it anyway.