More Than Friends (Friends, #2)(9)

Ugh, stupid Tuttle and his gorgeous face and perfect lips and irritating, smug personality. He is nothing but trouble. Trouble I don’t need. I always thought he was gorgeous, but he’s just a mythical creature. Someone who was in my advanced classes these last three years, though I never really talked to him. Someone I watched play out on the field while I sat in the stands wearing hideous, itchy polyester and an awful hat with a feather plume.

He wasn’t real.

Well, now he is. And he’s ruined everything. I can’t watch football anymore, not if I have to work every Friday night. No more band, no more football and no homecoming dance.

There are worse things to deal with in life. Or so I tell myself.

“I already said I’d work the Friday night shift,” I explain. “I can’t back out now. I need this job.”

“I’m going to miss you, Amanda. Who will I sit with during the game?”

My friend is so wrapped up in her own drama, all she can ever think about is herself. She really needs to work on that. Become a more thoughtful person.

“You’ll find someone,” I reassure her. “I’m sure you’ll survive without me.”





“Hey Amanda.”

I brace myself, my shoulders tight, my entire body tense. I’m afraid to turn and see who just said those two words. It could be anybody. Worse, it could be Tuttle. Considering I’m in English and he’s in this class with me, I almost expect it to be him. Pushing his luck. Pushing himself on me.

I don’t know if I have the strength to make him stop.

But here’s the thing: when you want something bad enough, you start to believe it can be true. Like having Tuttle talk to you—you start to believe it’s going to actually happen, even though you claim you don’t want it to. I know Jordan’s dreamy voice anywhere, and the voice that just said my name was definitely not Jordan Tuttle.

Turning, I blink in shock when I realize it’s Blake Stephens standing in front of me. He’s never approached me before in class. Ever. I don’t even think we’ve ever locked eyes before, let alone said hi.

“Hi,” I say, offering him a tiny smile. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good.” He ducks his head and his shaggy hair hides his eyes for a moment before he flicks his head. “Thought I’d say hi, considering now we’re coworkers.”

“Right. Coworkers.” I nod and continue to smile, kicking it up a notch when I spot Tuttle slip in through the door and head for one of the desks in the back row of the classroom. “My first official shift starts after school.”

“You excited?” Blake raises his brows.

Um, not the way I’d phrase it, but close. “I guess so.”

“It’s going to be a thrill a minute.” His expression betrays nothing, so I’m not exactly sure if he’s joking or not.

“You really think so?”

“Nah, I’m just kidding with you.” He nudges my arm with his elbow and I laugh. He watches me, pleased with my reaction or whatever, but then the smile slowly dies. I glance in the same direction he’s looking to find Tuttle glaring at us from where he sits, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk.

Wait a minute. Is he…jealous? Of Blake freaking Stephens?

No. Way.

“Are you working after school?” I ask after I tear my attention away from Tuttle. I take a step closer to Blake, because yes. I’m a total bitch who wants to make a boy jealous. I’m petty and awful but I also sort of don’t care.

Truthfully, it feels kind of awesome, knowing that talking to Blake is driving Tuttle insane. Most of the time Tuttle drives me absolutely insane and I’m certain he doesn’t have a clue.

“Yeah, I’ll be training you.” Blake nods, his cheeks turning ruddy, as if he’s embarrassed. “Thought I’d warn you now.”

“It won’t be so bad,” I say, my voice soft. I don’t want him to feel awkward or weird around me. Blake has always been quiet and shy. Crap, I’ve always been quiet and shy too. Blake is more my type of person than Tuttle could ever be. I need to remember that. “Hopefully I’ll catch on quickly.”

“I’m sure you will. During the weekends, my mom will probably schedule us together a lot, since it can get pretty busy,” he explains, making a little face. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. I like staying busy. Makes the time go by faster,” I tell him just as the bell rings.

Blake smiles, taking a few backward steps until he turns on his heel and settles into his seat. I return my attention to the front of the classroom, resting my linked hands on top of my desk, determined to get into attentive student mode. Mrs. Meyer starts talking and I try my best to pay attention, but I can’t focus.

All I can think about is Jordan Tuttle sitting behind me. Watching me. What is he thinking? Does he hate me for cutting him out of my life? Probably. I doubt that happens to him much. He’s the type of guy who gets what he wants, whenever he wants it.



“…and what that means is you’ll be working on a group project together! Won’t that be fun?” Mrs. Meyer ignores the groans that sound throughout the room. “Oh, come on, guys! This will be great. It’ll be in teams of two, so the workload must be shared fifty-fifty.”