Secondary Characters (Novella) - By Rachel Schieffelbein Page 0,15
to just fall into his arms right there in front of my house. Pathetic, yes, but he was like my knight in shining armor. I don’t know what I would have done without his help.
So yeah, I was totally swooning. At least I was, right up until he asked if Amber and I were coming over tonight. He visibly pouted when I said something about Amber and Nick working it out.
I look over at Amber as she applies her lip gloss, looking like a teenage boy’s dream come true with her pouty lips and curvy figure, and can’t help but wonder which one of us he’s really looking forward to seeing tonight. She’s Aphrodite.
But I’m being crazy, right? He acted like he was interested in me. (Of course, I thought that about Mike, too.) And he knows Amber’s there to see Nick. He set it up. Is it possible that knowing things didn’t go well with Nick last time, he thinks maybe he can swoop in?
Stop it Maybie. You’re being crazy. Not all guys are scum. Not all guys are infatuated with Amber. Lance is not going after his best friend’s crush.
At least, I don’t think he is.
“I’m going to try and forget all about last time,” Amber says, “I mean, it was one bad night. Everyone’s allowed one bad night, right? I’ll just pretend like tonight’s the first date.” She waves her arms in front of her like she’s literally wiping the slate clean. “I really want to like him, ya know? Tonight had better be good, though.”
I smile at her, resisting the urge to roll my eyes or, better yet, chuck all her eye shadows at her. I want to be a good friend and all but sometimes I wish everything didn’t always have to be about her.
Where’s my pep talk? When do I get to be Aphrodite?
“Okay,” she says, turning to me and striking a pose. “How do I look?”
I try to remember that it’s not her fault. Not her fault that she looks like teen Barbie. Not her fault that she’s always the lead, while I’m just the sidekick.
Not even her fault that she’s only thinking about her and Nick. She has no idea that I’m totally freaking out about this date, trying to figure out whether or not this is a date for me and Lance, or just us helping out our besties. She doesn’t know I’m suddenly all gaga over Lance.
After the huge deal I made over not wanting to go out with him, I haven’t exactly confessed to my complete 180.
“Great. You look great,” I say, and fake a smile. Just great enough that no one will notice I’m in the room.
We walk to Lance’s, it’s a pretty little yellow house with white steps leading up to a dark grey door. We knock and Lance opens it to let us in, looking amazing in jeans and a black sweater. The sleeves are pushed up, exposing his lean, muscular forearms. I watch the muscles move under his skin as he shuts the door. I think I’m losing my mind.
His mom walks up behind him, holding a bowl of chips and grinning at us. “It’s so nice to meet you girls! You must be Mabel.” She shakes my hand, then turns to Amber and does the same. Then she hands Lance the bowl and says, “Behave yourselves,” as we head down to the basement.
Nick is sitting on the floor next to a cupboard full of DVDs. He’s pulled a bunch of them onto the floor and is shuffling through them. He looks up when we walk in and smiles at Amber. His perfect grin does nothing for me now. Somehow, he seems far less stunning than he used to.
“How about Psycho?” he asks, holding up a black and white DVD case. My throat starts to tighten up.
“How about a comedy this time?” Lance, standing beside me, says quickly. I let out a sigh of relief as he puts his hand on the small of my back, just for a second, and winks. I feel my face get warm and know I’m blushing. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll think it’s the reflection from the TV. A girl can hope, right?
An hour later, we’re sitting in the dimly lit basement watching Bridesmaids. Amber and Nick have figured out how to get past the awkwardness of trying to come up with something to say to each other: they’re making out on the couch.
Part of me scoffs and