“Very funny,” I rolled my eyes and ducked into Shanda’s Fiat.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got such a small car with these tiny parking spaces.” I stared out the window as we drove off.
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Shanda said. “I saw you write on some strange guy’s knuckles. What’s up with you?”
“You did it, too.” I pointed my frappe at her.
“Yeah, because you made me.”
“I was just having some fun.” I fiddled with the radio. Anything to get her to shut up. A blast of country twanged from the speakers.
“Do you still like Bryan?” Shanda turned down the noise, eyes darting between me and the windshield.
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” A mini-van switched lanes, slowing to a crawl. “Watch the road.”
Her head snapped forward, just in time to stomp on the brakes. A coil of unnamed energy balled up inside me, like something was wrong. “I was just trying to be friendly. Besides, Bryan’s the one who said we can’t be together. Can we drop it already?”
“Fine, for now.” She said through clenched teeth. “I’m sure we’ll see Ozzy later.”
Soft giggles wafted up from the backseat.
“I hope not.” My eyes fixed on a neutral spot of the windshield. The New York night glistened with rain, the streets shimmering and reflecting all the lights.
Bryan and I weren’t even dating or anything. In fact, he was the one who put on the brakes. So why did I feel so pent up? Maybe I really liked Bryan, even more than I dared. We ate lunch together every day, dinner in the caf most nights—at least before this stupid distance pact. When I was with him, he seemed different from the rest of the guys, set apart as something more than a friend. And now without him around, determined to keep his distance, my gut ached like a thousand butterflies died and dug a thousand little graves inside me.
He was the one who said to trust my gut, but right now my gut was tied in a million knots I’d never be able to untangle. I hated not knowing where I stood with the guy.
How could I let this happen? I wasn’t ready for the teenage equivalent of a relationship, let alone the Real Thing, capitol R, capitol T. But there it was, staring me in the face, daring me to make the next move.
Did I have the guts to put myself out there and admit the truth? That was the real question.
~
“Is that it?” Julia’s squeal pierced through my Bryan musings and I shoved them aside with pleasure. She pointed at a neon green Riot sign across the street, the line stretching to the end of the block.
“Oh, man.” Excitement faded from her voice with each breath. “Look at that line, we’ll never get in.”
“We’ll see about that.” Shanda veered left, whipping the car into a compact only space in the parking garage. “I’ve got connections.”
“You better, otherwise we’ll be in line till midnight and Lucy will turn into a pumpkin.” Brooke patted my shoulder as we stepped onto the grimy wet pavement.
“Who said I was the feisty one?” I cocked my head at her and she grinned back at me.
“We don’t want to miss the show,” Shanda hollered from ten feet ahead. We scurried around the puddles in our heels to catch up with her like kangaroos in party dresses.
“Listen,” she nodded at the bouncer lifted the rope for us, “I didn’t mean to come down on you so hard. I was just trying to have some fun.” She gave me her I’m-sorry-but-won’t-admit it smile.
Canned music blared from the giant black speakers as Shanda paraded us right past the mostly teenage crowd to a roped off area in the back. One fist bump later, and she’d scored us a primo table near the stage. The lights were dim and everything was painted black, except a neon green sign on the stage flashing the Club Riot logo.
“Sometimes I’m just too friendly and guys think I’m flirting. It’s so annoying.” I jangled my bracelets like a tambourine against my leg.
“What about Bryan?” Shanda creaked her wooden chair closer to me, away from the suitemates.
“Somehow I feel like I betrayed him. Maybe I do want more.” It felt good admitting the truth out loud, made it more real, even if it was drowned out by tinny pop songs.
Her mouth curled into an enormous grin. “That’s great, you two are made for each other.”
“After what I went through with Jake, and what happened with you and Kevin …” My throat tightened like the grip of fear itself clamped my throat. A waitress came and set Cokes in front of us. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.”
“Girl.” She clucked her tongue at me, slipping the waitress some cash. “Jake was a terrible guy. Kevin was just a player, we all knew it had to end sometime. But not Bryan, he’s not like that.”
As the house lights dimmed, shadows descended on me from above. Only slivers of light filtered among the wispy tendrils of darkness. The clutches of doubt tightened around my airway again, constricting my lungs. My breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps.
Shanda’s voice rose above the shadows, the fear. “It’s hard to put yourself out there, believe me, I know. Sometimes it’s worth it, though. If you wanna know my two cents, I think Bryan’s worth it.”
With those words, hope surged through me. I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, two words beating a steady rhythm, more like a silent prayer, please help. And with that the shadows fled, my throat opened, my lungs breathed easy.
I sucked in breaths of stale club air. “He said we can’t be together. What makes you think I have a shot?”
“Who cares what he said? He’s so obviously into you. Even he can’t fight it much longer.” She squeezed my hand, warmth seeping into me. “Honestly, I don’t know why he does.
