Envy

“He’s just a friend.”

“I like him,” Jeff said.

“Me too,” Beth replied.

“But I like Adam better.”

“Adam stinks, I like Kane,” Sam countered. Beth knew he was just trying to get a rise out of his brother-but still, it hurt to hear.

“Sam, take that back!” she scolded him.

“No way,” Sam said, grinning, seeing he’d made her mad. “Adam stinks. Kane’s way better.”

“Adam is!” Jeff yelled.

“No, Kane!”

They went back and forth, louder and louder, until finally Beth pulled away both their ice cream dishes and held them high in the air.

“No more, unless you guys behave!” she threatened.

They shut up immediately, and she handed back the bowls.

“But Beth,” Sam asked quietly, “which one do you like better?”

They both stared at her, their eyes filled with curiosity, and Beth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was just too weird to hear the question coming out of her little brother’s mouth, the same question that Adam had been pestering her with one way or another for weeks. The same question that kept bouncing up in her mind no matter how hard and how many times she tried to push it away.

“I like them both, Sam, in different ways.”

“But who do you like better?” Jeff repeated insistently.

She ignored the question and skipped over to the refrigerator. When in doubt, distract.

“We almost forgot-who wants whipped cream!”

Greg pulled the car to a stop in front of Miranda’s house.

“So,” he said awkwardly, turning off the ignition and staring straight ahead as if afraid to look at her.

“So,” she repeated, giving him a half smile. Part of her wanted to throw open the door, jump out of the car and never look back. But it would be so rude, even cruel… and a part of her was just a little curious to see what would happen if she stayed.

So she did.

“I had a great time tonight,” he said hopefully, twining his fingers with hers.

“Me too,” she replied-it was only polite. She looked down at her hand, linked with his, as if it belonged to someone else.

He touched her cheek with his other hand. “I’m really glad you agreed to go out with me.”

He was so earnest, it was painful. “You’ve got really pretty eyes,” he whispered. “You know that?”

Oh God, just kiss me already, she thought, stifling a laugh. But she just smiled sweetly. “Thanks.”

And then, even though she’d been waiting for it, he took her by surprise. One moment his face was a foot away, the next it was on hers, bumping awkwardly against her nose, and then their lips were suctioned together. There was no wave of passion, not even a ripple. Instead, she just observed, as if from very far away.

His lips were oddly soft and very wet.

She’d never before noticed how strange kissing was, really. All that squishing and sucking and smacking together. Where your tongue goes and what your hands should be doing. She’d never really thought about it before.

But then, she supposed, you probably weren’t supposed to be thinking very much, during. You certainly weren’t supposed to be thinking about your unfinished chem lab or yesterday’s episode of General Hospital while his fingers were crawling up beneath your shirt, hungrily grasping at your bare skin. And you probably shouldn’t be thinking about another guy.

But Miranda was-and wished that those were his arms wrapped around her, his breath hot against her neck.

But then again-

It was dark inside the car, and they were just shadowy silhouettes pressed against each other. He could be anyone. She could be anyone. When she closed her eyes, there was only the feel of a body next to hers, of a solid chest and broad shoulders, of warm flesh and hard muscle.

When she closed her eyes, they were two strangers coming together in the dark.

When she closed her eyes-he could be anyone.

Chapter 11

“So I think I’m going to ditch out on this whole swim meet thing,” Miranda said, stretching herself out on Harper’s living room couch.

“What do you mean, ‘ditch out’?” Harper asked lazily. She was curled up in a worn orange armchair, feeling far too relaxed and contented to get upset about Miranda’s last-minute change of heart. “Why wouldn’t you go?”

“I don’t know.” Miranda, who’d been playing a game of ‘should I or shouldn’t I eat this’ with a bag of Chips Ahoy! for the last twenty minutes, finally pushed the unopened bag away in disgust. “With the SATs and all, it just seems like maybe I should stay home and study-”

“The SATs aren’t until Saturday,” Harper pointed out. “We’ll get back from Valley Glen Thursday night-you’ll have all day Friday to study.” They’d had this conversation already, a few days before, and Harper had thought the matter was closed.

“Yeah, but I’ll be totally wiped, and it’s probably better if I-”

“Miranda, what’s really going on?” Harper interrupted, shaking her head. It’s not like Miranda’s presence on Thursday was at all crucial to the plan-but she didn’t like last-minute changes, not this late in the game. Not when everything was moving along so perfectly.

Miranda flushed and looked away. “I just think it’ll be weird,” she admitted. “Greg’s going, and I don’t want to… I think it’s better if I just stick around here. I’m sure I can find someone who wants to do some last-minute cramming.” She laughed ruefully. “There’s always Beth-I’m sure she’s not going anywhere two days before the SATs, and-” Miranda suddenly caught a glimpse of Harper’s face, which had almost completely drained of color. “What?”

But Harper was struck speechless for a moment, as she felt her whole plan begin to unravel.

“Just to avoid this guy Greg, you’d stay home and”-she could barely bring herself to say it-“study with Beth?”

“Well, I was kind of joking about the Beth thing,” Miranda allowed, “but actually, it doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.”

“Except that it is,” Harper countered heatedly-and then caught herself. She couldn’t have Miranda staying home and screwing everything up. She couldn’t leave Beth with a potential alibi. But what was she supposed to tell Miranda?

Obviously not the truth.

“So exactly what was so wrong with this guy?” Harper asked, stalling for time as she desperately tried to figure out how to get Miranda on that bus and safely out of town.

“There was nothing wrong with him,” Miranda clarified, sounding exasperated. “I just don’t think I need to be with a guy I’m not really that into.”

“Okay, first of all, hooking up in a car does not qualify as being ‘with’ him, so just take it easy. Second of all, you’ve only been on one date-that’s, what, four hours? You have no way of knowing whether you’re into him or not.” Harper cringed at her own words, since she’d only needed thirty seconds with Greg to determine he was a loser. But in principle, she reasoned, it was sound advice. So what if she and Miranda, experts in snap judgment, had never followed it before? There was a first time for everything.

“I know that when I stood him next to Kane, it wasn’t pretty. Doesn’t it seem like the guy you’re with-excuse me, on a date with-should at least seem like the most appealing guy in the room?”