thought of being with Beau in ways that were nowhere near friendly, but lately I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Maybe it’s how much he’s been around and all the time we’ve been spending together, or maybe it’s watching him with Zoey. I can’t help but feel like now is our time to be together. Finally. And in the next second, I realize why that can’t happen.
“Stop being pathetic,” I whisper angrily at myself, fisting my hand against my stomach.
When am I going to learn that if Beau wanted me, he’d have had me by now? It’s not as though I’ve been exactly subtle in my attraction to him. Maybe it’s time for me to move on. What happened last night wasn’t anything but the effects of two people watching a program that showed others having sex and the natural reaction to it. Sure, it seemed as though he wanted to kiss me, and possibly do a lot of other things as well, but was it his desire for me in particular?
I remember very clearly when Beau and I were thirteen and the moment I looked at Beau and realized he wasn’t just my best friend who happened to be a boy. He was a boy. And a very attractive one, at that. But I certainly wasn’t the only one who noticed him and trying to maintain our friendship while the girls in our class were working hard to get on my good side simply to get details on Beau.
As the years went by, I had to watch as he dated other girls, who made sure to fill me in on as many details of their nights together as they could. When he started dating Lizzy, it only got a thousand times worse. Because I knew what she was telling me was the truth.
“Gabi was extra chatty during study hall today,” I tell Beau from the passenger seat of his pickup on our way home from school.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, curious, for sure, but trying to pretend like he doesn’t care. He flips his blinker on as we come to a stop sign and wait for traffic to clear enough for us to turn left.
“Yup. Had quite the date last night, huh?”
“That what she said?” He smirks.
“That was the gist of it. A true lady wouldn’t speak of such things,” I say in a haughty voice.
He laughs and glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I suppose you’re a lady?”
“Ha! Hardly. Gabi said you played tonsil hockey for hours.”
He chuckles. “Tonsil hockey? Really? What are we, sixty?”
“Okay, so she used a different term,” I say, rolling my eyes. But there’s no way I’ll actually use the words she did. It was crass and words that I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying out loud in front of Beau because I’d blush like crazy. Truth of it is, though, I’m green with jealousy. Whether their stories are just that, stories, or reality, it doesn’t matter. They have all had something that I never have, or will ever have. A relationship that’s deeper than friendship with Beau.
“I’ll just bet she did,” he mumbles. “Nothing happened between us aside from Gabi hugging me good night. It wasn’t even supposed to be a date. She just wants to tell everyone it was.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs and turns into my driveway, putting his pickup in park and turning to face me. “She asked me if I’d help her with her project for Sociology class. She had to learn how to change a flat tire. Turns out, all she wanted was to shove her boobs in my face.”
I pull a face that he doesn’t miss. “And you didn’t want that?” I ask quietly, nervous for him to answer.
“From Gabi? No. Now, if you’d shove your boobs in my face, I’d be okay with it,” he teases and I lightly punch his shoulder. He laughs hard and opens his door. “Kidding, kidding.” Of course he is. He’s made it pretty clear that he would never want me that way. If I ever came on to him the way the other girls at school do, he’d probably run away cringing. “Come on. Let’s see if your mom has any pizza rolls. I’m starving.”
I get out, also, and laugh. “Of course you are. When aren’t you hungry?”
“Growing boy,” he says, rubbing his stomach.
Inside, I find a bag of pizza rolls, the combination kind, which, obviously, are the best, and dump them