Fourteen

After the batting range, it seemed like mine and Buddy's relationship took a step back. Instead of driving to school with him, I walked. I ditched him at lunch to practice my drumming (at least he had his friends). I never told him I loved him back. I was avoiding all confrontation.

Buddy could tell there was something wrong with me. I just refused to answer any of his questions. I ignored him for the most part, because I was too much of a coward to actually tell him what I was thinking. I needed to tell him the truth. Let him know I knew he had feelings for me and that I couldn't reciprocate them so we could move forward with a new friendship between us. One where we weren't as touchy feely as before.

I was going to miss it. I enjoyed being able to cuddle with him because I liked to be held. He never made me feel uncomfortable when he did; it was just the way our friendship worked. And he was my best friend. I didn't want to lose him and what he had, but things had to change in order to prevent him from liking me even more so we could remain friends.

It was difficult just because of how close we were. It was why his followers hated me. I was close to him, his best friend, but we acted like more, despite how nothing would ever happen between us. The only reason I didn't want to tell him I knew was because I knew we would have to stop doing those sorts of things, and I didn't want to. But then that would mean I was leading him on, and that wasn't right. I didn't want to lead him on, so I was going to have to tell him.

Hugging was allowed between friends. It was normal, so long as both parties were cool with it. And we were. Cuddling was going to stop. Same with kissing on the cheek. Both were affectionate in their own ways, and even though we were cool with it, it would continue to lead him on, so it needed to end. And I would tell him I loved him again, but not until I knew he was over me. I didn't want to trigger his feelings.

If I was going to do any of those things again, I was going to have to find a boyfriend to do them with. Buddy was a good sort of substitute in its own way, but only because I assumed it was platonic. There was always a difference between platonic and romantic. So, I'd have to find a boyfriend, but I wasn't looking for one. I could have tried to find a friend with benefits, but the only person who would do that was Darcy, and we didn't have that sort of relationship. Plus, I didn't want that with her.

I didn't have the time to worry about relationships, though, because I wanted to be part of a band first. With all the rehearsals, band meetings, business lunches and dinners, and the concerts itself, I would have a full schedule. Add school in for the rest of the year (only if I found one this year), and I wouldn't have the time. If there was someone I wanted to be with, it would be better to wait until I was in a band. That way, I could figure out whether it'd work. There was no use in being in a relationship when I didn't have time. And I intended to be in a band, so I would not be with someone while I waited for my chance. Getting rid of the boyfriend all together ensured that more of my time would be spent focusing on my drumming and looking for a band.

But each time I pictured the said boyfriend I didn't plan to have, Devon's face came to mind. Was that what it meant to be in the starting stages of a crush? If it was a crush, it was no big deal. Crushes were called crushes became you could easily destroy them and whatever feelings you thought you had. It's when you like someone that you have to be worried, because that's when actual feelings get involved.

That's what I reminded myself as I stepped up Devon's front porch and shouted, "Ding-dong!" We were nothing more than friends. Whatever this crush was would go away.

Devon opened the door and smiled as I stepped inside.

"Thanks again for this. I just know I'm going to fail this test."

"No, you won't. 'The Catcher in the Rye' is an easy book to understand."

"Are you shitting me?" I exclaimed. "He jumps from one thought to another in just one sentence. It's impossible to understand. I hate it."

Devon chuckled as we sat on the red leather couch. "Trust me. I've got you." And we went over the book for two hours, talking about the significance of each chapter and going over why the book was funny (it's not) despite the heavy subject matter of the book. He helped point out the humor in how serious Holden tries to behave despite being a child who really doesn't understand anything at all. Or the humor in him trying to romanticize a prostitute and how she makes fun of him for it.

By the time we were done, my brain was fried, but I was ready for the test. "Great, now I just need help with all twenty other subjects I take."

"You only have four others," he deadpanned. "If you need help, I can help."

"Not now," I whined, pressing my face into the coffee table. "I don't want to do anything."

"Want a drink?"

"Just water, please."

He patted my shoulder as he walked into the kitchen, and Rena entered the house. "You'll never guess what happened today!" she exclaimed, as she ran up to Devon.

"Tell me!"

"Turns out Greg isn't going to come to our high school after all."

"Really?" Devon gasped. He picked Rena up and hugged her, and spun around. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

When he put her down, Rena stumbled around and finally noticed me. "Hi, Mel," she exclaimed, before running into her room.

Devon sat beside me, placing a cup of water for me on a coaster.

"Who's Greg?"

"Jett's little brother."

The same Jett he punched. The same one he would punch again. He only punched for defense or protection. Was Greg involved in what Jett said to Devon, prompting him to punch him?

"Monday night, Buddy mentioned a variety show at your school."

The moment he mentioned Buddy, I shot up from the coffee table and stared at him.

"I'm assuming you're not going to audition after all," he drawled. "Are you scared to play in front of other people?"

He thought my drumming prompted that reaction. Not Buddy.

I shook my head, playing it cool. I got off the floor and sat back on the couch next to him, and he shifted to face me completely. I shifted as well, leaning my elbow against the back of the couch. "No, I don't have stage fright. Though I don't like the idea of playing in front of my classmates that much."

"Why not?"

"You know how they can be. Half of them already hate me. If I get vulnerable up there and actually play for everyone, they can use it against me and ruin the best thing in the world."

His smile was soft. Kind. "You really love drumming, don't you?"

"It's the most important thing to me. You know, besides friends and family, of course," I teased.

"Of course," he quipped. His face fell, and he stared at the cushions between us. "You know... this is just me, but I'd say 'fuck it.' You like to drum. You want to be a drummer. Put yourself out there. You're going to have to, anyway. Might as well do it in front of the people you're the most afraid to play in front of. Then you'll be able to play in front of anyone."

I narrowed my eyes on him, and he pulled away slightly. "Why does it feel like you're saying the same thing I said to you about going back to school?"

He snorted. "Because I am. I'm just a hypocrite."

"No, you're not."

"In this case, I am. I'm not telling you what you should do, but I think you'd regret it if you don't go for it."

"Then what about you? Are you going to go back to school?"

"Francine and Dave are giving me until the end of the year to decide. If I don't go back before next term, I'm getting my GED."

"You should figure it out eventually. If you decide to come back to school, you may wind up needing to go to summer school."

"Or I can continue to make up the work like I have been. I've been emailing my teachers about my work, and I'm basically taking the same test you will be next week," he smirked. "Mine's just harder and online."

"No wonder you need to study so much. You're basically taking nothing by AP classes. But without the college credits."

He shrugged. "Basically. But I don't mind. It gives me something to do."

"And what are you planning to do after school?"

"Call me crazy," he nervously began, and I could tell it wasn't the first time someone had called him that, "but I want to be a doctor. Not the kind you'd find in a hospital, but the kind who you'd go see for physicals and checkups."

"Adults or children?"

"I'm not sure. Children can be a bit much, but adults can be a pain in the ass."

"At least you wouldn't have to deal with adult's parents, right?" I snickered. "'My kid doesn't want that.' 'We don't believe in vaccinations.' 'Do you even know what you're doing?'"

He laughed. It was loud and jovial. "That's true." He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. I did the same. It was painted blue.

"Why a doctor?"

"I never really got to go growing up. If I was sick, I had to look it up online. Eventually I went down this rabbit hole of medications and diseases and was left fascinated by it. I love it. I can't even watch medical dramas because of how inaccurate they are. I would get pissed watching Doogie Howser."

I snorted.

"And after getting hurt from all those fights, I would go to the doctors for checkups, and I just fell in love with the whole scene. It's what I've wanted to do since I was a kid."

"A doctor, huh?"

"Yes, every father's dream husband for their daughters," he smirked. "But it's not likely I'll date any of them."

"Are you not looking for a relationship?"

"No. But it's also not likely that I'm suddenly going to meet someone who will not be afraid of me and want to date me. I'd rather wait until I can go to medical school- If I can even afford it."

"I'll put some of my band's profits towards your college education."

He nudged my knee with his, smiling. "Aww, shucks," he teased. "Isn't that sweet of you?"

"I am a nice person," I said with mock pride, placing my hand diligently over my heart. "The best person you'll ever meet."

"Oh, good. I was worried I'd meet someone better than you."

"Good thing I brought you your papers then, huh?"

His voice went soft. "Yeah." His finger traced the head of the couch near my head. "Good thing." Snapping himself out of his daze, he asked, "What about you? Any boys who have piqued your interest?"

"No." I groaned and stared back up at the ceiling. "There is someone who's interested in me, though."

"He confessed to you?" he sang, shifting on the couch to lean in. "Tell me."

"Quit doing that and I might," I laughed as I pushed his head away from me.

He chuckled as he sat up straight and faced me. "Who was it?"

I didn't want to say it was Buddy, because I didn't want anyone to know until I could tell him I knew. It seemed more respectful that way. "He's a friend of mine, but he hasn't confessed to me."

"Then how do you know he likes you?"

"It's all there. Whenever we're hanging out at one of our houses, he always wraps his arms around me or lays his head on my shoulder. And we always hug each other because we're affectionate people, and we kiss each other on the cheek goodbye or goodnight all the time, but that always normal. It was how our friendship worked."

"But something's changed?" he questioned, showing genuine interest.

"Yeah! We went out last weekend, and these girls are teasing me for my wardrobe-"

"They're jealous they can't pull off purple lipstick like you can," he winked, and I snorted.

"Exactly. But then he goes to hold my hand, and he doesn't let go all night. He's just holding it, even when it gets sweaty. And when he drops me off at night and says he loves me- Which is also normal for us," I added before Devon could cut me off, "but it sounded like he was confessing. I couldn't say it back. I'd be lying if it said back after the way he said it."

"Sounds like he does like you."

"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure he's jealous of the way I hang out with another one of my friends. It's getting bad, and I know I need to tell him I know, but I'm afraid to. I like the way our friendship is. I don't want it to change, but I know it's going to have to."

Devon frowned and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head against him and sighed as he leaned his head on mine. "I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Yeah," I agreed. "It does."

"But it's important to be honest with him. I know that if I didn't have a chance with the person I liked, I'd want to know. Even if I'm embarrassed that they're telling me before I could tell them, at least I'd know where I stand." He chuckled. "But this other guy you're seeing? The other friend?"

"I'm not seeing him. He's just another friend of mine."

"Okay, so does your friend have a reason to be jealous of him?"

"No." No matter what I may have felt for Devon, it didn't give Buddy the right to be jealous. Nothing was ever going to happen between Buddy and I. Devon, that was a different story.

One I was afraid to admit was becoming more probable.