More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(29)

She knows it too.

“Um, I’m the new water girl for the JV and varsity football teams,” I tell her.

Lauren sneers, but she still manages to look pretty. “Really? Are you so desperate to get Tuttle’s attention you’ll do anything, even hand him over a water bottle during the game?”

Ouch. “I’m not trying to get Tuttle’s attention.” I’ve already got it.

“Oh, really? Could’ve fooled me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her stupid perfect boobs, and I try not to glance down at my own imperfect, very flat chest.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Lauren,” I say wearily, just before I turn and start to walk away.

But she follows after me, so close I can practically feel her breathing down my neck. “You’re not his type, so stop chasing after him. You look desperate. And pitiful.”

I hear a few snickers, and I realize I’m not only being followed by the captain of the cheer squad—there are other cheerleaders trailing after her. Like I’m being chased by Lauren and her cheer posse.

Best not to acknowledge them.

“I’m serious, Amanda.” Lauren grabs hold of my arm and stops me from entering the building. I turn to face her, jerking out of her hold when I find myself surrounded by a group of five cheerleaders, including Lauren. “Give up on Jordan Tuttle. He’s mine.”

“I don’t see your name stamped on his ass.” I stand up straight and shake my hair back, trying for the you-don’t-scare-me look, but I’m not sure if it’s working.

Lauren’s mouth pops open as the other girls titter nervously. The glare she sends them shuts them up before she turns it on me. “You should watch what you say. Your words might get you in trouble.”

“Oh my God, Lauren. Stop being such a bitch and leave her alone.” Em magically appears by my side like my long-lost guardian angel. “Go on, find someone else to terrorize.” She waves her hands at the girls, like they’re annoying bugs she swats away.

Lauren sends me one last long look before she turns and leaves, her little posse following her. The moment they’re out of earshot, Em turns to me and rolls her eyes. “You sounded like you were holding your own, but she’s a total bully. I had to step in.”

“Thank you.” I offer up a shaky smile. “Seriously. She was sort of freaking me out.”

“Don’t let her bother you. She’s just jealous because Tuttle pays attention to you and not her,” Em says.

“You really think she’s jealous of me?” I’m incredulous. Both at the idea of Lauren Mancini being envious of me, and that Em actually helped me out instead of making the situation worse.

Em laughs and shakes her head. “Duh. Of course, she’s jealous of you. You have what she wants—Jordan Tuttle.”

“I don’t really have him,” I mumble, dropping my head so I can stare at my feet. It’s true. I don’t have him have him, but I guess I sort of do? He has been paying attention to me a lot lately. Even after I pushed him away. Even after I hurt his feelings and told him I didn’t want to be with him because I didn’t believe he could be faithful.

Which was…stupid. I don’t know him, not really. But I never claimed to be smart when it comes to relationships. My experience is limited. The only real boyfriend I ever had was Thad, and look where that ended up.

“Please. He’s totally into you.” Em leans in close, her mouth at my ear. “He’s watching you right now. In fact—oh shit—he’s headed this way.”

I glance up to see Tuttle walking toward us, his expression grim. My heart starts to thump wildly and I take a deep breath, remind myself to calm down.

“Hey,” he says to Em before his gaze settles on me. “What did Lauren want from you?”

“Nothing.” I smile, trying to communicate with Em with just my eyes. I can see she wants to say something. Tell Tuttle the truth. But I don’t want her to. I don’t need to burden him with my so-called troubles. I can handle Lauren Mancini on my own.

“Really?” He sounds doubtful. “She can be kind of a—”

“Bitch?” Em supplies helpfully, a giant smile on her face. “So accurate.”

“Em. Stop.” I don’t know why I’m scolding her. Do I really want to defend Lauren Mancini? I don’t think so. I decide to change tactics. “Excited for tonight’s game?” I ask Jordan.

He shrugs. “The team we’re playing is number one in the league right now.”

“Oh.” Yikes. That might prove to be a challenge.

“You guys will do great,” Em says cheerfully.

“Yeah,” Jordan says, returning his attention to me. Not that it’s ever really left. He won’t stop looking at me and I’m suddenly self-conscious. I run a hand over my hair, touch the corner of my mouth in case there’s a crumb lingering. Nothing. I drag my finger under one eye, then the other, picking up bits of stray mascara, and I wish I could slick on some lip-gloss. Anything to look prettier. “You look good.”

I blink up at him. “What?”

“You’re fidgeting. Stop worrying.” He reaches out and slides his fingers through my hair. Gently touches the corner of my mouth. Glides his index finger under my left eye, his gaze locked with mine. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs as he trails his finger along my cheek.