Page 1 of Just Friends Forever
1
TROY
EIGHT YEARS AGO
It’shard to feel like the man graduating from high school has made you when your mom insists you finish your dinner before you head out to the graduation party.
“You’ve barely eaten a thing,” she says, peering over the pitcher of water in the middle of the table to check my plate.
“I had a big lunch,” I say.
My best friend, Stevie, grabs the bottle of hot sauce in front of my plate and pours a few drops on my barely touched casserole. “There.”
“You trying to kill me?” I ask. “That sauce is 1.5 million Scoville units. It could burn down this house.”
“Should I be offended you need that stuff to make my food palatable?” Mom says.
Stevie sets the hot sauce down and scoops up her last bite of casserole. “Troy has no idea how delicious your cooking is because he’s fried his taste buds, Mrs. Sheppard. You make the best chicken parm I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Mom replies with an affectionate smile at her.
Stevie eats with us a few nights a week, so she has plenty of experience with Mom’s cooking. As the only child of a mom who devotes equal dedication to her full-time job and her dating life, Stevie spends a lot of time at our house.
“Stevie’s right,” Dad says, leaning over to kiss Mom on the cheek. She turns at the last second so their lips meet.
Stevie and I catch eyes over the table, hers amused, mine almost rolling. My parents love to make people squirm with their PDA. I’m used to it by now, but inside, my heart rate kicks up a notch as I wonder whether there’s any kissing in the stars formetonight too.
I push my plate a little farther away. Food is out of the question right now. My nerves are going berserk.
“I can taste just fine,” I say as I stand up and grab the bag on the floor containing my swimsuit and towel. “I promise I’ll eat half the pan when I get home tonight.”
“Not likely,” Mom says. “Your sisters will be home in half an hour, and they’ll be hungry.”
“They’re at a pool party,” I say. “They probably had pizza.” I look at Stevie and raise my brows. “You ready to go?” Her blonde hair hangs over her shoulders in loose curls, contrasting against the black dress she wore for our graduation ceremony earlier today. She’s got some sort of gloss on her lips, but I don’t let my eyes linger there for too long. I might lose my nerve if I do, and I’ve been working up my courage for, well, most of my life.
Stevie has had a huge crush on my older brother for years. Austin’s around a lot less now that he’s in college, and I’m hoping her feelings for him have had time to dull—or, better yet, that they’re six feet under. Either way, graduating has made me feel like it’s time to grow up. I don’t want to be in this same place four years from now when we’re graduating from college. It’s time.
“Yep, I’m ready!” Stevie pushes her chair out and grabs her gym bag.
“You guys are in for a treat at that party,” Mom says as she pierces a piece of chicken with her fork.
I cock a brow. “And you know this how?” It doesn’t surprise me, honestly. She’s always been an involved parent, serving in the PTA and volunteering to come on field trips since I was in elementary school.
She just smiles and chews her food. “Have fun and don’t stay out too late.”
“I’ll keep him in line, Mrs. Sheppard,” Stevie says, reaching to tousle my hair.
I dodge the attempt, using my hand like a shield to protect my greatest asset.
“Did you bring a swim cap to protect that mop?” Stevie asks as she steps onto the porch.
I sweep my fingers through the brown hair sitting over my forehead. “I would never subject these tresses to that kind of barbaric treatment.”
She opens the door of the minivan and sits shotgun. “You count scissors as a tool of torture but not chlorine?”
“Shh.” I shield my hair from her words. “Not so loud. My hair has nightmares about scissors.”
We head for the city pool, where most of our fellow Sunset Heights Hawks graduates are already hanging around. There’s a table of food and drinks beside the pool and a bunch of music equipment set up for a DJ. Maybe the music will set the scene for later—a romantic song or two to help Stevie see the potential we have.
