More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(18)

“Maybe if you guys can talk it out, it won’t happen again,” I suggest, trying to sound positive. Don’t know how long I can maintain it, though.

“Please,” Livvy mutters, shaking her head.

She’s quiet for a while and so I remain quiet too. I watch the boys play, the constant whistle blowing from Coach Halsey making me wince. He’s running them especially hard this week, what with this Friday’s homecoming game. And there’s nothing worse than losing that game. You not only disappoint the entire school, you let down the alumni as well.

Tuttle’s on fire, though. He throws the ball with expert precision, a spiral in the sky, I can almost hear the whoosh as it flies through the air. I have to admit Ryan catches just about every one of those passes and does his damnedest to run it into the end zone. He’s a great player. Together they seem almost unstoppable.

“Okay, I’ll try to talk to Em,” Livvy finally says minutes later, a long sigh escaping her. “I’m probably making a huge mistake, but I’ll reach out to her for you, okay?”

“Good.” I smile and nod, feeling like I actually accomplished something. But Livvy’s giving me a weird look, and my smile instantly fades. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know why you’re trying to heal my friendship with Em or whatever. The two of us became friends because I’m not really hanging out with her anymore.”

“Can’t we all be friends?” Nerves bubble in my stomach. I never thought of it that way. What if Em and Livvy really do reconcile and cut me out of the relationship altogether? I would have no one to blame for that happening but myself.

“I want us to,” Livvy says slowly. “But sometimes…Em can be really possessive.”

“Well, she’s just going to have to learn how to share,” I say with a faint smile.

Livvy nods, returning a similar almost-smile before she resumes staring at the field. “Oh my God, Ryan is so awesome.”

“Yeah,” I say distractedly. Worry nags at me for the rest of the time we sit on the bleachers, though. What if it’s not that simple?

But when is any of this ever simple?





Friday night. I’m working. I’m not at the homecoming game. The rally right before school ended was a study in torture. All of the homecoming nominees were brought out to the center of the gymnasium and Lauren Mancini stood next to Tuttle, beaming like a beauty queen and adorable in her cheer uniform, her ponytail bobbing as she smiled and waved at everyone.

Tuttle just stood there, stoic and handsome in his jersey and jeans, his gaze scanning the crowd as if he was searching for someone before he gave up.

It’s too arrogant on my part to think he was looking for me.

After a few minutes of the homecoming court nonsense, he looked ready to bail. They dragged him back out when they talked about the game and only then did his lips curve when Coach Halsey patted his back and announced, “We’re going to kill them!”

The entire gym erupted in cheers and the band started to play, the sounds so loud, Livvy and I both put our hands over our ears, laughing. When my gaze returned to the center of the gym, I saw Ryan nudge Tuttle and point at Livvy and me. Tuttle’s gaze met mine and he smiled, ever so faintly. It’s almost a warrior’s smile, one I imagine some long-ago Viking offering up right before he charged into battle and slayed everyone.

I looked away, frustrated by my wandering yet vivid imagination.

After school let out, I rushed to Yo Town, skipping the homecoming parade, the game, all of it. Livvy promised me she’d let me know what the score was in live time, and she did. She sent me Snapchat updates and the occasional photo. Including a few from halftime, when the homecoming king and queen were announced.

The photo of Tuttle and Lauren standing together with their arms looped almost made me want to vomit.

Thankfully, business is brisk tonight at Yo Town. Time passes quickly, and after a while I can hardly think about what I’m missing. All I can focus on is the shop. Blake and I are running around like crazy, trading off working behind the register so one of us can keep the store clean and maintain the toppings bar.

At one point I’m so busy ringing up customer after customer that I don’t notice the big group that comes into the shop at first. It’s just been one continuous group after another, you know? No big deal.

Until the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my skin prickles with goose bumps. Someone is watching me. It’s like I can literally feel their eyes sweeping over my body. Slowly I glance up, look to my right and discover it’s…

Tuttle.

And he’s with a girl.

Not just any girl either.

He’s with Lauren Mancini.

My heart feels like it shrivels to half its size and all the air lodges in my chest. Our gazes meet and my breath catches. He’s devastatingly handsome wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black pants and a cheap-ass crown on his head.

The same cheap-ass crown he was wearing in that photo Livvy sent me. I’m half tempted to go rip it off his head, but I contain myself.

He tears his gaze away from mine when Lauren curls her arm through his, batting her eyelashes up at him as she tucks herself in close. As close as she can get without embarrassing herself and climbing him like a tree. I stare in shocked disbelief as she clings to him like they were made for each other.