More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(51)

He chuckles, then leans in and nuzzles my neck. “I don’t care what she thinks about you.”

“Well, I do. I want to make a good first impression, like you did with my parents.” I elbow him in the ribs and he lifts his head, glaring at me, though there’s no real anger there. “You didn’t even tell me her name.”

“It’s Celeste.” He resumes kissing my neck, his lips lingering. “Celeste Tuttle the ice queen.”

His tone and his words make me sad. “You don’t get along with her.”

“She’s rarely home, and when she is, she’s either drinking or high on pills,” he explains with a weary sigh. “She needs them to cope.”

“Cope with what?”

“Life.” He lightly bites my neck, making me shiver. “I don’t want to talk about all this shit, Mandy. I’ve had a bad day.”

He wraps his arms around my waist and I rest my hands on top of his. “You never really want to talk to about anything.”

“Because there’s nothing really good in my life that I ever want to talk about,” he says, his voice soft, his gaze locked with mine in the mirror. “The only thing that’s good in my life right now is you.”

“Oh, Jordan.” He’s breaking my heart. I don’t know what else to say to him, don’t know how to make him feel better.

“It’s true,” he whispers against my cheek just before he kisses it. “How I feel about you scares the hell out of me.”

His confession should make me feel good. I know it should.

But it doesn’t.





The rest of the week buzzes by. I studied for the SAT when I could and didn’t even go out with Jordan Friday night because of it. Mom wouldn’t let me, claiming I needed to work on my future.

When I went and took the test, there were so many other people there, including Em and Livvy and Ryan and Cannon Whittaker and Brianne Brown and Dustin, too. No Jordan, though. He told me his score was good enough—no surprise—and he even applied early at a few colleges.

I totally bombed the SAT. My mom is going to be so disappointed.

I worked from three to seven at Yo Town, and Livvy agreed to pick me up. She’s helping me get ready for our double date tonight with her and Ryan. Somehow I convinced Jordan we should go out with them tonight and he reluctantly agreed. We stopped by my house and grabbed a few things before we went back to hers, where I took a quick shower and then Livvy did my hair and makeup.

I’m both excited and nervous about tonight. I like having Jordan all to myself, but I don’t like how he isolates himself all the time. His explanation makes perfect sense—everyone wants a piece of him and he doesn’t have enough pieces to give. I get it.

Sort of.

“It looks so pretty curled,” Livvy says as she lightly sprays the ends of my hair with hairspray. “You should curl it more often.”

“Takes too much time.” I’m sitting on a stool in the bathroom with my back to the mirror because Livvy doesn’t want me to see myself until she’s finished. I’ve never let a friend give me a makeover before and I can tell she loves every minute of it.

Me? I’m apprehensive about the date. Jordan texted me earlier about what time he made the reservation for and where—some fancy place I could never afford. I told him I’d meet him at the restaurant and he seemed okay with it. But it’s kind of weird how I’m hitching a ride with Ryan and Livvy.

When she starts layering on the makeup, I tell her not to put on too much. “I don’t want to look totally different.”

“I’ll just emphasize what you have.” She grabs hold of my chin and contemplates my face like a doctor. “You have really good skin and your eyes are beautiful.”

I roll those supposed beautiful eyes. “They’re brown and boring.”

“No, they’re not! They’re so dark. Full of mysterious depths.” Livvy giggles. “And you have great eyebrows. Can I pluck them?” She whips out a pair of tweezers and I dodge them when she waves them close to my face.

“Why? I thought they were great!”

“You need to clean them up a little bit.” When I shake my head, she mock pouts. “Come on, please? What I plan on doing will really make them pop.”

I glance at my phone to check the time. “It’s getting late.”

“Stop worrying. Just let me work my magic.” She grabs hold of my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Trust me.”

My nod is reluctant and she gets to work, plucking my eyebrows with those tweezers like she’s wielding some sort of torturous device. I keep jerking every time she pulls out a tiny hair and she practically stabs me with the tweezers at least three times.

“Keep still!” she reprimands like she’s my mom. “And never forget these words—beauty is pain.”

“What?” That sounds crazy.

“I’m serious. My mom used to always say that to me. Beauty is pain, pain is beauty, it’s all the same. To look good, we have to make sacrifices. And sometimes, those sacrifices hurt.” Livvy smiles mysteriously. “It’s a small price to look your absolute best, but trust me, it’s worth it.”

“You keep telling me to trust you, but all you’re doing is hurting me,” I point out, hoping she’ll see the logic and stop with the tweezing already.