“Way to make me look bad, man,” Ryan said, laughing once. “If I even tried to say something like that I’d be accused of reading poetry from the Lame Book of Things Guys Shouldn’t Say.”
We all laughed, and David pulled me closer until my head rested between his jaw and shoulder, our thighs touching, the warmth from under his arm making the sharp, sweet smell of his cologne so much stronger; a spicy scent, like Brut, not the orangey-chocolate one he usually wore.
“Guess that just leaves me now,” Emily said, leaning on her hand.
“Well, if you’re not with Spencer soon, maybe you should meet my best friend—he’s coming to visit in a few weeks.” I leaned around David to look at her.
“Is he from Australia?” she asked.
“Mm-hm.” I put my drink down on the table. “And he’s really cute.”
“Cute, is he?” David raised one brow.
“Actually, yes. He is.”
“What does he look like?” Emily leaned further around, forcing David to sit back a little.
“Well, why don’t you come have a sleepover at mine next Saturday and I’ll show you some pics.”
“Yeah? I’d actually really like that.”
“Cool. Alana, you wanna come, too?” I asked, allowing myself to feel the excitement of a normal teenager for a moment.
She looked at Ryan and smiled, shrinking into herself a little more. “Um, yeah, if Emily doesn’t mind?”
“Mind? Of course you should come. Hey, I’ll bring a movie, yeah?”
“Yeah, and I’ll get a pizza,” I added.
“Better make that two,” Ryan said. “Otherwise the girls’ll go hungry.”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll bring the popcorn,” Alana said, shyly.
“Great. It’s settled then.” And I was actually excited. Mike would be, too, when I told him. In fact, this had been a great day. The best ever. In a way, I was kinda glad my dad so cruelly forced me back to school this week, because I had new friends now and my horrible past was no longer a burden I solely owned. But best of all, David liked me enough to want me as his girlfriend. In fact…love. Love is what he’d said.
I looked sideways at David, flouncing his hand around in the air as he explained the size of the pizza he ate last night. He didn’t know it yet, and I wasn’t ready to tell him, but I loved him, too. Not in the way he loved me—like the way you love your guitar or your best friend—but real love. The kind of love you hold for someone you want to marry one day.
The phone rang twice. I waited impatiently, tapping my fingers on the desk.
“Hey, Ara.”
“What you doin’?” I asked, hearing a strange static kind of sound.
“He’s playing a death-match, online, with me,” another voice said very clearly into the receiver.
“Oh, hey, Josh.” I laughed, wincing. Lucky I didn’t just blurt out my news the second Mike picked up.
“Hey, Ara. How’s things, what you been up to?” Josh asked, half distracted.
“Well, actually. A lot. That’s why I called,” I said in an eager, soprano voice.
“Hang on,” Mike said. “I’ll just de-link the phone line from the headsets.” I heard a noise, like someone tapping a fingertip on the lid of an empty tin, and a bleep followed, making the slight static in the phone line recede, leaving a clear, quiet hum. “Okay, I’m alone now. How you doin’, kid?” Mike’s deep, sexy voice made my blood warmer.
“Well, actually, I’ve been waiting up all night for you to get home so I could call you. I’ve got good news.”
“I’m listening.”
I paused for dramatic effect. “I’m having a sleepover next weekend.”
“Really?” he dragged the word out.
“No, I was kidding.”
“Well, that’s great. Are you gonna talk to the girls about what happened—with your mum?”
I shook my head, watching my reflection in the window. “Nope. Don’t need to.”
“Why?”
“Already talked to someone.”
“Who?” he asked. “Was it your dad?”
“No, it was David.”
“Yeah? The guy you like?”
“Yep.”
“Well, come on, fill me in, then?” His voice glided in that husky smoothness that could only be Mike’s.
“Well, it turns out he already knew.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “He spoke to my dad before he even met me.”
“Well, that’s cool. And he still made friends with you?”
“Yes,” I said in a flat tone. “I know, I know—you told me it’d be fine.”
“Did you tell him about…you know, the other part of it—your inner guilt?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
“And he still wants to be your friend?” he asked, unperturbed.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. We made our relationship official tonight,” I beamed.
Mike went quiet. “Ara, what did you do?”
“What? Oh, no, not like that, Mike.” I laughed, waving my hands about.
He exhaled. “So, like what, then?”
“As in he said the word girlfriend.” I couldn’t help but grin.
“Well, that’s really cool. I’m glad there’s someone lookin’ out for ya.”
“You could make even half an effort to sound happy for me, Mike.”
“I am happy for you, baby. I just—”
“You’re still my bestie, Mike.”
“I know, but I’m not there, Ara. And I’m worried. I know you too well, and I know that tone. You’re pretty serious about this guy, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” I grinned, glad he couldn’t see it.
“Baby, you gotta be careful. Grief can magnify emotions. You know that. What you’re feeling, it may just be—”
“Don’t say it, okay?” I said, holding the phone away from my ear in case he did. “I don’t need you telling me what to feel.”
He just sighed heavily. “Okay. Fine.”
“Thank you.” I sat quiet for a second, considering just hanging up. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I have a girl I want you to meet when you come over.”
“Ara, don’t play matchmaker. I’m coming to see you, not go on dates.”