More than Friends - Monica Murphy (37 page)

“Y
ou need to hurry,” I tell Liv as she carefully attaches fake lashes we decided to go with after all to my right eye. “We have to be out there soon.”

“Shush, I’m almost done.” I already have fake eyelashes on my left eye and my lids feel extra heavy. “You are going to look so amazing. I hope Tuttle dies a little inside when he sees you.”

I snort. “He won’t even be here tonight. He’s not social, remember.”

“True. He
should
be here, though. Let’s make sure and take lots of photos tonight and plaster them all over Snapchat. You are the sexiest witch ever.” She steps back and beams.

“I don’t even know if he follows me.” Lies. He does follow me. The #cuddlewithTuttle memory still lingers.

Still hurts.

“Ugh, he makes me nuts. Forget him.” Livvy is still smiling at me. “You look amazing.”

“So do you.”

She bats her false eyelashes. “Why thank you, my spooky witch friend.”

I turn to look at myself in the mirror and I have to admit, I look pretty damn good. Even better than the trial run on Thursday night, and we were pretty smokin’ hot and spooky then too. My makeup is on point—scary without being hideous. My hair is parted in the middle and flowing past my shoulders, straightened to perfection with Livvy’s extra-hot straightener. I’m still a little self-conscious about the low neckline on this costume, but screw it. I’m performing tonight. I get to be someone else for a little while.

May as well enjoy it.

Livvy grabs my shoulders from behind and leans down so she’s in the mirror with me too. Our gazes meet in the reflection. “We look so freaking great! We better head over to the caf before Elaine kicks our asses.”

We leave the auditorium where we got ready, via the back exit, which is also the long way, since we don’t want anyone to see us in costume. It’s not quite five o’clock, but the quad is already full of people milling about. And there’s a decent-sized line to get into the haunted house.

The Halloween carnival at our high school is an annual event, and it’s a huge deal. It’s a great way for organizations and clubs at the school to raise money. It’s always fun, and who doesn’t love Halloween? Well, there are more than a few people who don’t love it, and during our freshman year, a few disgruntled parents from the PTA threatened to shut it all down, but the students and faculty eventually prevailed. The Halloween carnival lives on.

This is our last year to attend, so it feels bittersweet. It’s hard to believe all of these things we’ve experienced the past three years are our lasts this year. Our last first day of school, last homecoming—which I missed—and now it’s the last Halloween carnival.

I need to make the most of this tonight. I know Livvy wants to as well.

Usually I’m participating in the band fundraiser, which, naturally, always involves music. This year’s theme is a haunted band performance. I heard they set up the band room to look like an old time bar with a tiny stage where various band members perform. They’re all dressed up as ghosts from the Wild West. I see more than a few girls dressed like they walked straight out of a saloon, but their faces are white and their eyes are black. It’s pretty cool.

“Everyone looks so great,” Livvy says as we head toward the back entrance of the cafeteria. One of the staff members is standing guard in front of the doors, and when he sees it’s us, he lets us in.

It’s dark inside, with the black tarps hanging and the majority of the lights are off. We created a haunted maze within the cafeteria and there are little alcoves scattered throughout, where different “scenarios” are set up. Livvy’s in the vampire scenario while I’m in a witches and warlocks scene, but I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.

“There you two are!” Elaine miraculously appears in front of us, dressed in a devil costume with a pointy red tail and little red horns sticking out of the top of her head, plus she’s carrying a pitchfork. It’s scarily accurate, what with the way she ran all of us ragged this morning. Livvy told me she never let up either.

This is why the cafeteria looks so amazing. Elaine wouldn’t accept anything less.

“Hey, boss!” Livvy waves, extra cheerful on purpose. We know it drives Elaine nuts. “Where do you want us?”

Elaine briskly walks us through the maze, pointing to where each of us should go. The vampire section comes up first, so Livvy’s out, blowing kisses at us and laughing when Elaine takes my hand and drags me deeper into the maze.

“Here’s your station.” Elaine gives me a little shove and I’m in an alcove with a small round table where three other witches sit. “Be scary and freak them out, but remember, don’t touch the houseguests!”

“Oooh, you look extra scary,” one of the witches says as she takes me in. She’s wearing a sexy witch costume, and her boobs look like they’re ready to pop out at any moment. She kicks out the last chair for me. “Sit at the front of the table.”

Scary music kicks on and people start trickling in. We sit at the table at first, hissing and cackling and saying goofy stuff as people pass by. But eventually we get bored, so we hide behind corners and randomly jump out at different times, scaring our so-called houseguests. People shriek and scream and run from us, but there’s lots of laughter too.

It’s so freaking easy, and we are having way too much fun with this.

I see a few people I know and they call out my name and wave, or say silly stuff, trying to get me to break character. But I hold up as best as I can, calling everyone, “my pretty” and wiggling my long, black press-on nails at them as they walk by.

At one point I see Tara and Thad pass by our alcove, holding hands and looking very couple-y. I feel a pang in my heart for the briefest moment. Then I wonder why they’re not working at the band fundraiser.

About halfway through my shift, Em walks right up to me, fully decked out in a
Suicide Squad
costume. Tiny booty shorts, a tight-fitting top that shows off her stomach, and a little heart painted just below her right eye—she makes a most excellent Harley Quinn.

“You don’t scare me,” she drawls, her bright red lips stretching into a huge smile.

I wave my nails at her. “Where’s your baseball bat?”

“They wouldn’t let me bring it on school property. They considered it a dangerous weapon.” She mock pouts and I can’t help but laugh.

She just shakes her head at me and walks away.

Eli Bennett walks through with his friends and they all stop and stare at me while Eli just stands among them and nods. I can only imagine what he’s told them about me. He’s got the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and I glare at him, hoping he’ll leave.

He doesn’t. So I steadily approach, until I’m standing just in front of him. So close I could touch him. They all freeze, their eyes wide, matching horrified expressions on their faces. The other witches rally behind me, and they also remain quiet. I’m thrilled they’re cooperating without my having to even ask.

“She’s freaky, man,” one of the boys whispers, and another one shushes him.

I twist my red lips into a wicked smile, tapping one long black nail against my lower lip as I contemplate them. They’re just waiting for me to do something outrageous, so I go for subtle instead.

“Boo,” I whisper, and they all scatter like leaves in the wind.

Ah, silly freshmen boys.

We start doing this for all the witches’ friends—and enemies. Whenever one of the girls leaps to the front, we fall in behind, following her cues. Every time we chase someone away, we collapse against each other in giggling fits. I’ve never had such a good time scaring people in all my life.

We keep up this pace for a solid two hours until an announcement is broadcast over the cafeteria sound system.

“Attention, houseguests. We ask that you please exit the house within the next ten minutes. The house is closing for a fifteen-minute break, but fear not! The house will reopen soon. Thank you, boos and ghouls.” The announcer sounds off with an evil laugh.

My shift is over after those ten minutes, and then the second crew will come on duty. I seriously need to pee and I’m desperate for something to drink. My throat hurts from all the witch talk and yelling. Plus I’m starving, and I bet Livvy is too. We’ll have to go check out the food booths and grab something to eat.

People start leaving the cafeteria in droves, so I cut out early and head to the bathroom in the back near the kitchen, which is closed off to the public. I handle my business, wash my hands, fix my smeared makeup as best as I can, then exit the bathroom, intent on finding Livvy so we can go get something to drink and eat.

But I stop short when I see who’s standing there. Like he’s waiting for me.

Tuttle.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and he keeps his distance, as if he’s afraid I’ll run. Or attack him.

“Hi.” I stay where I’m at, not wanting to get close for fear I might do something. Like run. Or attack him.

“How are you?”

Why are we making pointless small talk? “How did you get in here?”

He smiles sheepishly. “I bribed Elaine King.”

My mouth drops open. “She’s not bribeable.”

“Trust me. Everyone is bribeable. We all have a price.” His expression turns somber as he cuts his gaze away from mine.

His words make me fume, and I know he’s not referring to me, but still. I don’t like that he believes I have a price and that eventually, he’ll be able to meet it if he needs to. “Well, I can’t be bought. Not by you.”

Now he looks pained. “I know, Mandy. I’m not talking about you. It’s just…” His voice drifts and he thrusts his fingers through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. I wonder when was the last time he got it cut. It’s longer than usual, curling against his neck. I remember how soft it is…

And I am becoming completely distracted by his hair, which is ridiculous. I need to focus.

He makes it hard to focus, though. Not like the boy has to try too hard to distract me. All he has to do is stand there, wearing jeans and a black pullover hoodie, and I want to drool.

It’s seriously not fair.

“It’s just what?” I ask when he still hasn’t said anything.

“I’m already messing this up.” He blows out a harsh breath and flicks his gaze up to the ceiling before he looks at me again. “Can I just talk to you for a few minutes? Somewhere private?”

“I have plans to meet up with Livvy right now.” I’m not going to give in. He’ll just walk all over me again. Reel me in only to reject me, push me away, and I’ll be left behind a sobbing mess. I gave him too much power over me before. I can’t do that again.

“After the carnival then? Can I pick you up?”

“You’re not going to the carnival?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” His gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my chest. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.” I want to say no. Yet I also want to say yes. Saying yes will result in me getting hurt. I’ll listen to what he has to say, he’ll feed me a line or two of complete crap, I’ll fall for it, we’ll spend time together, I’ll get my hopes up and then…

My hopes will come crashing down in a blaze of shame and low self-esteem and Livvy will tell me, “I told you so.”

I can’t go through that again.

“I don’t think I can meet with you after the carnival, Jordan,” I say, my voice soft. I see the hurt on his face, the pain in his eyes, and it makes me feel terrible. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go through this again. Have a good night.” I turn on my heel and walk away.

He follows after me. “Amanda, wait!” He grabs hold of my arm and stops me before I can get too far away. “Could we maybe talk tomorrow?”

“What else is there to talk about?” I jerk out of his hold and throw my hands in the air, wishing I could throw a punch at him instead. When I don’t want him to be persistent is, of course, when he actually is.

I can’t win with him. I just…can’t.

“What do you mean?” Jordan frowns, taking a step back.

“You don’t want to be with me. You’ve already told me that. Is that what you want to talk about? How it’ll never work out between us? Well, I got the message loud and clear yesterday, okay? We’re done. Over. Just the way you want it.” I glare at him, breathing so hard my chest rises and falls rapidly, and I swear I feel faint. It’s probably because I’m hungry.

That I can even still be hungry gives me hope. Maybe I am over Tuttle after all…

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you.” His voice drops and his gaze is intense as he watches me.

“You didn’t have to,” I whisper just before I turn and walk away.

And never once look back.

Read other books by Monica Murphy

First up…I’m so incredibly sorry, readers. I didn’t mean for this book to end in a cliffhanger, I swear. But as I wrote Amanda and Jordan’s story, I realized he’s a lot more complex than I originally thought. Truthfully, so is Amanda. So yes, I’m writing another book about them, and it will conclude their story, I promise.

Before I thank everyone, I want you all to know that Tuttle was only going to be a walk on character in Just Friends. A throwaway kind of guy who appeared every once in a while just to be a jerk or to be that extra friend Ryan and Dustin needed to talk to. Instead, Tuttle took over my brain and demanded his own story. So did Amanda. She became the girl so many readers rooted for—and so did I. So their story is not only for me (because it was a total joy to write, let me tell you), but for all of you too.