Page 43 of The Path To Us

“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 onto a cookie sheet to pop into the oven once it heats up. Our back packs are tossed next to the kitchen table and Beau’s already filled us each a glass of Coke and is diving into a package of Oreos.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, sliding it open to respond to the text I just received from Tyson.

Tyson: What’s up?

Me: Nothing. Just getting ready to do homework.

Tyson: Can I stop by?

I look up at Beau to see him grinning at his phone, typing away, too. Jealousy burns in my gut because I know that goofy look on his face wouldn’t be caused by him talking to one of his guy friends.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Lizzy.”

A pang hits my chest because Lizzy is my other best friend, but I know she wants him much like most of the other girls. The same as I do, but haven’t admitted it to anyone. She’s been flirting with him for weeks and told me she wants him to ask her out.

“Oh. What does she want?”

He looks up from his phone and I swear I see him blush a little.

“Nothing. Just… nothing.”

“When did you two start talking?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? We’ve been talking for a while now. Friends, remember? Who were you texting?”

“Tyson.”

He swallows hard and puts his phone down. “Tyson’s texting you?”

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