Page 13 of My Best Friend's Bully

I could work upstairs in my room until the burgers come, but this is my chance to break the ice with Jordan, to find out what’s truly going on between her and Cole, so I unplug my laptop and carry it downstairs to set myself up at the kitchen island. She looks up but says nothing, hunching over her notebook with a strained furrow wrinkling her forehead.

“It’ll freeze that way if you’re not careful.” She looks up as I point at my own forehead.

“Ugh.” She rubs her forehead and digs inside her backpack looking for something. She comes out with a pair of glasses. “Don’t you dare say anything,” she commands, sliding the plastic black-rimmed glasses onto her face.

The oval shaped lenses frame her large, round eyes making her look even hotter than she did before. They give her a secretary off-duty look that makes me want to push her up against the window right now. I let the fantasy pass, and instead, I give her a smirk.

“My lips are sealed.” I turn back to my computer, but it’s impossible to focus with her sitting there. I listen to her pen scratching across the paper and can tell by her soft rhythmic exhalation when she’s frustrated by something. Everything about her presence takes my attention away from my own work, and when the doorbell finally rings for our food delivery, I’m eager to jump up and answer it.

Chapter 7

Jordan

Iliftmyeyesfrom the text book I wasn’t even reading and let out the deep breath I’ve been holding as I watch him walk out of the kitchen.Was he actually being nice to me?I turn to FaerieBeast, scratching the top of her head. “What was up with that, hmm? Should we trust it?”

Faerie looks up at me with her bulbous marble eyes. The few times I’ve stopped by earlier in the week to wait for Cole, he wasn’t here. Only Ty, and there was nothing but cold and awkward between us. I’ve been coming every day after class to check on Cole, and every day is the same. No Cole, only Ty. I don’t care much for Ty’s company, but I care about my best friend and his well-being, so I endure the wait. The last couple of days, though, things have been getting easier between Ty and me.

“You’re not sure about him either yet, are you, girl?” She doesn’t answer, staring at me trying to figure out what I’m saying. “He’s not off the jerk list yet.” The front door shuts and Tyson’s footsteps approach the kitchen. FaerieBeast sets her head back down and I turn back to my notes as if I hadn’t spent my time sharing my inner thoughts with the dog.

“Food’s here.” He sets the bag down on the countertop with a heavy thud and sets the drink tray beside it, condensation beading on the white cup. “If you can eat all this, I’ll be impressed, think it weighs twenty pounds.”

He turns around to face the cabinets, hands on hips.

“I’ll get the plates,” I say, as he opens cabinet after cabinet searching for them.

He still hasn’t learned the layout of the kitchen. I’m thinking that when I’m not here, he probably doesn’t eat. I bet he does a hundred push-ups instead, every time his stomach growls.

I take down two plates and a handful of napkins and pull up a seat beside him at the island. There are only two chairs, and I’d never noticed it to be cramped when I’m sitting next to Cole. But sitting here next to Tyson is different. One move and I’ll be brushing against his arm. Something that always feels natural with Cole. I try to scoot my chair away without being obvious, but there’s nowhere to go, so I settle for digging into my food.

“Is that chicken?” I point at his pale burger. It’s suspiciously healthy-looking, with a pile of vegetables, grilled white meat, and a whole wheat bun. And what are those? Brussels sprouts instead of fries. Gross.

He nods, arching one eyebrow as he looks at my burger, which is dripping grease down the back of my arm as I lift it to my mouth. “I’ve got a sedentary job, remember? And I don’t do my best work when I’m loaded down with grease and carbs.”

“I can’t start my day without caffeine and carbs. Preferably in the form of sugar.” Without a hint of shame I stuff three fries into my mouth and wash them down with a sip of milkshake.

“How are you still alive?” He shakes his head in disgust. “Don’t they have a nutrition class at that fancy med school of yours?”

“I know the basics. I just choose to ignore them. If everybody ate like you, they wouldn’t need doctors like me.” I pop another fry into my mouth and raise my milkshake cup as if I’m toasting him. “What do you do for work that’s so sedentary you have to deprive yourself of life’s greatest pleasures?”

FaerieBeast appears at my feet, deciding that the smell of human food is worth leaving the warmth of her window seat cushion for. Tyson clucks his tongue and breaks off a piece of chicken for her. She takes it, wolfing it down, immediately staring into his eyes for more.

“I’m a programmer. I get paid to sit in front of a computer all day, basically.” He offers FaerieBeast a Brussels sprout, and I laugh when she refuses, turning her nose up in disgust. “You’ve passed your bad habits on to the dog.”

“Hey, I don’t only eat junk food. I like Brussels sprouts,” I protest. “Besides, if you knew anything about dogs, you’d know they’re carnivores.”

He skewers another sprout with his fork and holds it up for me to take a bite. “Oh really?”

I freeze, staring at the vegetable like it’s a poison chalice. Tyson gives me a blank stare and when I hesitate, a smirk forms at the corner of his mouth. Before he can gloat, I bend forward and snatch the sprout from the fork. He watches intently like a parent guaranteeing their child isn’t spitting their vegetables into a napkin as I chew and swallow it. He applauds with a slow, methodical clap… clap… clap… when I finish.

“I think we’ve made a big step today,” he gloats.

“My turn.” I grab three fries and hold them out for him, assuming he’ll pick them from my fingers. Instead, he leans down and takes them with his mouth, holding my gaze the entire time, so intently I have to look away. He chews twice and wrinkles his nose as if he had eaten something from the bottom of a toilet bowl. He follows with a grin from ear to ear.

“Idiot,” I say, flicking a pickle at him.

He dodges and FaerieBeast runs after it, quickly discovering it to be no more interesting than the Brussels Sprout.

“Now we’re even.” He rubs his belly. I can see the smooth, flat shape of his abdomen through the thin fabric of his T-shirt and find myself wondering how many abs I could count if I lifted his shirt.

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