More Than Friends (Friends #2)

I’m shocked she’d offer the job so quickly and want me here so fast, but I recover quickly. “Yeah, definitely.” I smile as we both stand, and shake her offered hand. “Thank you so much for taking a chance on me.” Considering I’ve never had a job before, she was doing me a huge favor.

“I think we both lucked out.” Sonja smiles warmly. “See you tomorrow, Amanda.”

I check my phone as I’m walking back to my car and see that Liv has texted me what feels like five million times. Deciding I don’t have the time to text back, I call her instead.

“Why are you calling?” she practically shrieks into the phone as her greeting. “We never talk on the phone.”

“You sent me a thousand texts. I thought it would be easier to call,” I say as I make my way to my car.

“Did you read my texts?”

“No.” They were full of emojis and exclamation points so who knows what she’s losing it over now.

“Oh my God.” She sighs and it sounds shaky. “You’ll never guess who Dustin is taking to the homecoming dance.”

“Em,” I say just to freak her out.

“Ew, no! He would never do that. Well, I don’t think he would.” She pauses for dramatic effect, and it works. “He’s taking Brianne Brown.”

Huh. “Is that really a surprise?”

She hesitates. “I guess, considering he snuck into my room last night and we made out.”

“What?” Now I’m the one shrieking. “Are you freaking serious? What about Ryan?”

“I was mad.” Her voice is small and I know she knows she messed up. “I just saw that photo Em posted. I couldn’t believe it. I was so hurt and confused. And then Dustin showed up. Next thing I know we’re kissing on my bed.”

“Olivia.” My voice is stern and I glance around, thankful when I find a bench in front of Old Navy. I sit and keep my head bent, hoping I don’t see anyone from school. “You get mad at Ryan for being a supposed cheater when you’re the one who—”

“Don’t say it!” she pleads, cutting me off. “Please. You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m a total hypocrite, but I was so furious at Ryan and Em. The minute Dustin left, I cried. I felt so bad for using him, but I was still angry at Ryan too, you know? I’ve ruined everything with Dustin. And Em. Maybe even Ryan.”

“You always jump to conclusions.” She’s way too spontaneous. I plan everything so her spontaneity blows my mind on a regular basis.

“So did you,” she points out. “Now you won’t even talk to Tuttle and he practically beat up my boyfriend in defense of you.”

“Right, because your boyfriend called me a bitch,” I remind her.

“I'm sooo sorry he said that.” Liv sighs. “This is all a total mess.”

“I know. That’s why I’m staying out of the drama. No more boys. I just got a part-time job. Between school, yearbook, filling out college applications and working at Yo Town, I’ll be too busy for boys,” I say, desperate to believe every word I say.

“Wait a minute. You got a job? At Yo Town? What’s that?”

“A frozen yogurt shop,” I explain. “Blake Stephens’ parents own it.”

“Who?”

Of course she doesn’t know who Blake is. Poor dude. He pretty much keeps to himself. “He goes to school with us. He’s in our class.”

She’s already forgotten about him. “I love frozen yogurt. Can you get me a discount?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask about that.” Sometimes my friend can be a tad selfish.

“When do you start working there?”

“Tomorrow after school. I’ll also work this Friday night and Saturday afternoon.”

“Friday night? But you’ll miss the homecoming game and dance! Can’t you tell them you already have plans?”

Like I want to go to the homecoming game and dance now. Not when I know it’ll just be one big Tuttle fest. I love football. I love how our team is slowly turning themselves around—and a lot of that is because of Tuttle.

Ugh, stupid Tuttle and his gorgeous face and perfect lips and irritating, smug personality. He is nothing but trouble. Trouble I don’t need. I always thought he was gorgeous, but he’s just a mythical creature. Someone who was in my advanced classes these last three years, though I never really talked to him. Someone I watched play out on the field while I sat in the stands wearing hideous, itchy polyester and an awful hat with a feather plume.

He wasn’t real.

Well, now he is. And he’s ruined everything. I can’t watch football anymore, not if I have to work every Friday night. No more band, no more football and no homecoming dance.

There are worse things to deal with in life. Or so I tell myself.

“I already said I’d work the Friday night shift,” I explain. “I can’t back out now. I need this job.”

“I’m going to miss you, Amanda. Who will I sit with during the game?”

My friend is so wrapped up in her own drama, all she can ever think about is herself. She really needs to work on that. Become a more thoughtful person.

“You’ll find someone,” I reassure her. “I’m sure you’ll survive without me.”