More than Friends - Monica Murphy (6 page)

I show up at Yo Town promptly at four. Sonja is there to greet me and leads me into the tiny office in the back of the building, where she has me fill out a bunch of paperwork, hands over my official Yo Town T-shirt, telling me she has to go, but that she’s leaving me in good hands. Then she sends me back out into the shop so I can be trained.

By Blake.

“This job is pretty easy,” he tells me as he has me run through a few practice transactions on the register. I pick it up pretty fast, which fills me with relief. The scariest thing to me was the cash register, but it’s fairly simple.

“Then why do you hate it so much?” My Yo Town T-shirt is pale pink and Blake’s is black. I notice those are the theme colors of the store. There’s pink and black everywhere, including the cups people use to get their frozen yogurt.

And see, that’s the easy part of this job. I don’t have to dispense the yogurt. Or put on the toppings. The customers do it themselves and bring their yogurt to us, where we weigh it and collect the money. Easy peasy.

How hard can this job be?

“Because my parents make me work here.” He smiles faintly, though he’s not looking at me. “When you’re forced to do something, you always end up hating it, you know?”

Right. For example, how I’m forced to be Tuttle’s partner in English. I hate it.

Well, I’m
supposed
to hate it.

“You ended up finding a partner for the project in English, right?” I ask him.

“Oh yeah.” He nods. “Celeste Marshall. I’ve worked with her before. She’s really smart. Not that you’re not smart, but Tuttle snagged you up first, so…”

His voice drifts and I slam the register’s cash door shut, startling him. I hate that he brought Tuttle up, yet I also feel responsible for it. I’m the one who opened my big mouth.

“I’m sorry about that. I really wanted to be your partner,” I reassure him gently.

Blake shrugs, his cheeks coloring. “It’s no big deal. Next time, right?”

I hope there’s a next time. I feel like I need to make it up to him.

Once we’re finished with the cash register lesson—including me ringing up a real pair of customers who came into the shop—he brings me to the toppings bar. Pointing out what everything is, he explains I need to make sure to keep everything well stocked. Replenishing the toppings as often as I can is crucial to keeping the toppings bar in good shape. The more they pile on their frozen yogurt, the heavier their cup weighs, and the more we can charge them. Though summer is dwindling, which causes the frozen yogurt business to slow down—at least according to Blake.

“Hours will eventually be cut by mid next month, if not sooner,” Blake explains as we walk back to the storage room. “Business drops once summer is really over, and by the end of football season, it really dies off.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s too cold to eat frozen yogurt,” he says, his voice definitely carrying a
duh
vibe.

“You can still eat it inside,” I point out. “It’s never too cold to eat delicious frozen yogurt.”

Blake studies me like I’m crazy. I sort of am, but frozen yogurt really
is
delicious and my stomach is growling, which is embarrassing. “If you can convince people of that and increase business during the winter months, my mom might kiss you.”

I make a face. “I’m not into that sort of thing.”

Blake’s cheeks blaze up. His face is so red I feel instantly sorry for him. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters.

“I know. I was just teasing.” Could I be more awkward? Reaching out, I touch his arm and smile at him but he won’t even look my way. The buzzer indicating someone just walked into the shop goes off and he’s gone in an instant, not looking back at me once as he scurries out of there.

Guess he was just saved by the bell.

Smoothing a hand over my hair, I walk back out into the front of the store, my mouth dropping open when I see who’s standing in front of the frozen yogurt machines, contemplating the flavors.

“Oh. Hey,” Emily Griffith says distractedly, barely glancing in my direction.

White-hot rage rises inside of me as I walk over to join Blake behind the counter. I want to sock her in the mouth. Punch her in the stomach. Slap her face as hard as I can. And I’m not one prone to violence, but this chick makes my blood boil.

Worse? She doesn’t even realize it.

“You don’t have salted caramel anymore?” Em whines at Blake.

“We’ll get it back soon,” Blake reassures her with a friendly smile.

All she does is make a face as she shoves her cup under the nozzle and adds birthday cake flavored frozen yogurt to it. I watch as she examines the toppings bar, then dumps chocolate chips, M&Ms and chocolate sprinkles on top of her yogurt before bringing it to the counter.

Blake never moves away from the cash register, and I scowl at him. “Let me ring her up,” I say.

“I’ve got it.” He never takes his eyes away from Em as she stands in front of us looking positively bored. She even yawns. Doesn’t bother covering her mouth either.

Again, I want to punch her. And I promise I’m not a violent person.

“I need the practice on the register.” I hip-check him and bump him out of the way, flashing an extra big smile at Em. My mom always said to kill them with kindness, so I’m going for that approach. Besides, she has no idea what she did to Tuttle and me.

Or does she?

“Will that be all?” I ask Em with a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Looks like it, don’t you think?” she says sarcastically.

Gritting my teeth, I set her yogurt cup on the scale, stick an orange spoon in it since orange is my least favorite of the plastic spoon colors available, and I punch in the price. She hands me a five and I hand back her change, telling her to have a nice day.

For the first time since she walked in here, she actually meets my gaze and recognition dawns, the dollar bill and loose change spilling from her hand and landing on the counter. “Amanda Winters.”

“Emily Griffith,” I return.

“So. How’s Tuttle?” She smirks.

“I wouldn’t know, considering I really don’t talk to him,” I say coolly, lying through my still gritted teeth.

“Funny, I heard you two were sort of an item. But maybe that was only in your imagination?” She raises her brows.

I imagine leaping over the counter and taking her down to the ground. Wrapping my fingers around her neck and choking her out, Blake cheering me on. I glance over at him, see the lust and adoration in his gaze as he stares at Em, and I know he’s a lost cause.

“Funny, I heard you were passed around the locker room after the last home game. But maybe that was the truth?” I raise my brows just like she did.

The flicker of hurt on her face, in her eyes, is there and then gone in a flash. She swipes her yogurt from the counter and stomps out of Yo Town, leaving her change behind on the counter.

“Put it in the tip jar,” Blake suggests, completely unfazed. Did he not just hear the awful things we said to each other?

A heavy sigh escapes me. I should’ve never said that to Em. It was mean and ugly and I sort of lost myself in the moment. Now I feel guilty as crap. “Go ahead. Do you mind if I take a break?”

“Sure. You get fifteen minutes.”

That’s just enough time to drown my sorrows in a giant cup of watermelon sorbet.

L
ivvy jumps into my car the next morning, fully decked out in a PINK sweatshirt with matching leggings, her makeup perfect and her long, dark red hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She looks great.

“I thought it was pajama day,” I say once she shuts the door and drops her backpack at her feet. Every day has a theme for homecoming week and I decided to have some spirit. Who wants to turn down the chance to wear pajamas all day?

“It is.” She grins. “I wear this to sleep all the time.”

“You do not.” Her outfit looks expensive and brand new. I’m lucky to snag a PINK shirt at a thrift shop, though there was that one time last Christmas when my grandma scored me one of those special holiday only T-shirts Victoria’s Secret puts out that’s more on the cheap side.

“I do! Well, maybe not this exact outfit.” Her grin fades as she takes me in. “You look…”

“Comfortable?” I offer hopefully. I’m wearing my favorite plaid flannel pajama bottoms I bought at our local Rite Aid because they’re in our school’s colors and a dark gray hoodie that’s covering an old T-shirt my brother gave me after he cleaned out his closet before he left for college. It’s soft and cozy, just like the hoodie, and I wear them all the time.

“Definitely comfortable.” Livvy flashes me a bright smile. “You look cute. I like the braids.”

I put my hair in two French braids because it was still wet from my shower and I didn’t feel like blow-drying it. “Thanks.” I chew on my lip, yesterday’s moment with Em still weighing heavy on my mind.

“How was work?” Livvy asks as I pull my car onto the street and head for school.

Taking a deep breath, I tell her everything. How awkward Blake and I were working together, how Em came into the store and I said awful things to her. When I finish, Livvy looks…

Impressed?

“I can’t believe you said that to her!” Liv shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “She sort of deserved it.”

“I’ve never heard that rumor, though,” I stress. “I made it up. Just to hurt her.”

Liv shrugs. “It might be true. You never know.”

I’m sort of incredulous. This is her former best friend—and it wasn’t that long ago that they were actual best friends. Sort of like me and Tara, though our falling out happened even before Em’s and Livvy’s. I haven’t talked to Tara in what feels like forever, and sometimes I still miss her. And that’s part of the reason I’m dealing with all this guilt over what I said to Em yesterday.

“I should’ve never said such awful things to her, Liv. I don’t care what she’s done or how she’s hurt you or even me. And I said it in front of Blake. I don’t really know him, and I definitely don’t trust him. What if he tells a friend what happened, and then the friend tells someone else, and then it spreads like wildfire all over campus?” My worst nightmare, knowing I was the instigator of a horrible, untrue rumor.

“That won’t happen.” Livvy waves a hand, dismissing my concern. “There are so many rumors swirling around Em right now anyway, it’s just another one to add to the list.”

I pull the car over on the side of the road, put it in park and turn to stare at my new friend. We might’ve known each other for years, but these last few weeks are the first time we’ve spent any amount of time together. I’m unsure if I can trust her either. “I don’t know if you’ve always been like this, but no wonder you and Em aren’t friends anymore. It’s like you don’t even care about her.”

Livvy’s expression turns hard and her eyes narrow. “I did. I
do
care about her. There’s just…so much that’s happened between us. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her.”

“She probably feels the same way.”

Liv’s jaw drops. “What do you mean?
She’s
the one who had sex with Dustin.”

“And you’re the one who keeps fooling around with Dustin on the side,” I point out. “Even a few nights ago you did, Liv. Since when is it okay to toy with his heart?”

“
Toy
with his
heart?
Are you serious right now? I think you’ve read too many romance novels.”

I blink at her words. That was sort of rude. “Don’t forget Ryan in all of this. You’ve been dishonest with him too.”

“I overreacted to that stupid picture Em posted, you know this!” The words explode out of Livvy like she’s been holding them in for years. “I know it was wrong, what I did with Dustin. What do you want me to do? Tell Ryan?” She stares off into the distance, crossing her arms, and she’s blinking rapidly. Like she’s trying to fight off tears.

“Maybe you should be honest with him,” I start, but she turns to glare at me, her eyes shiny and her lips tight.

“You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like, dealing with toxic relationships,” she practically snarls.

“Ha! Are you kidding me right now? I caught my best friend with my boyfriend and they were actually having sex. Naked, penis-in-vagina sex. I saw it with my own two eyes, Olivia! I know exactly what it’s like! I’m way too familiar with it,” I say bitterly.