Friend Zone Page 4

  Jack was about to open his mouth to say he’d changed his mind, when a slow burning started in his stomach and his vision fogged. It was as if all the alcohol in the Jell-O shots suddenly released into his system. Jack staggered sideways and dropped a heavy arm around the nurse’s shoulders, all thoughts of redemption forgotten.

  Seven

  Alice

  Now that she was walking home alone with Peter, with Jack out of the picture, Alice didn’t feel so bold anymore. What was she doing with a guy she knew nothing about? Was making Jack jealous really worth it? She doubted Peter could give her much more than that. If half the stories Jack had told her about him were true, Jack was practically a monk compared to Peter.

  Alice wished she knew what his face looked like without all that blue paint. Not knowing was bothering her more than it should.

  “You’ve gone all quiet on me,” Peter said.

  “I can’t help but think I’ve no idea what your face looks like.”

  “We can solve that tomorrow. For now, you can stare at my pretty eyes.” He batted his lashes at her.

  Alice chuckled. “Is there going to be a tomorrow?”

  “I hope so. I’ve promised to explain how to play basketball, remember?”

  “You mean a practical lesson?”

  “If you’d like. The coach has left me the keys to the Lavietes Pavilion; it’s really cool when it’s empty. We could take a couple shots.”

  “You want me to actually play?”

  He stopped and grabbed Alice by the waist, pulling her in front of him. She stiffened, worrying about the paint getting all over her jacket. Then she dismissed the concern; the waterproof fabric wouldn’t be hard to wash.

  “I’d love to play with you,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes. The intensity of his stare dazzled her. “Can we call it a date?”

  “Your eyes really are pretty,” Alice teased. “So I’m going to say yes.”

  He leaned in to kiss her. Alice didn’t care if this was a mistake; having Peter kiss her was great, and Jack could go to hell for all she cared right now. This is not you, he’d told her. But this was exactly her! She was a woman who liked to be kissed by handsome—allegedly—men. She wasn’t a nun.

  A cold blast of air blew in from behind her, making the hair on her nape stand up and sending a shiver down her spine.

  “You’re trembling,” Peter said, pulling back and massaging her arms with his hands.

  “It’s cold, and I’m not exactly covered up.”

  House parties required bringing only the minimum wardrobe. So Alice was standing in the cold of November wearing a flimsy jumpsuit, an older, not-warm-enough jacket, and no gloves, hat, or scarf.

  “Yeah, me neither.” Peter, with his bare legs, was even more poorly equipped for the chilly air. “Let’s get you home.”

  They walked in silence for another ten minutes until Alice stopped in front of her building. Next to her, Peter kept hopping from one leg to the other. The exposed skin under his shorts sent a shiver down her back.

  “This is me,” Alice said. “You want to come in? We have a coffeemaker in the hall,” she added, to make it clear this wasn’t an invitation to her room. “I could make you something hot before you have to walk home.”

  “Yeah, that’d be great. I’m freezing.”

  Inside, she made a pot of decaf, which they drank seated at one of the tables. Alice would have preferred the cozy armchairs by the fire, even if it wasn’t lit, but she was afraid Peter would stain them. Plastic chairs were easier to wipe clean.

  They chatted, enjoying their hot drinks, and Alice soon lost track of the hour. It wasn’t until Madison staggered in the front door, barely standing, that Alice realized how much time had passed.

  She threw Peter an apologetic look. “I think I’d better go take care of my roommate before she wrecks our apartment.”

  “Yeah,” Peter agreed. “She looks pretty wasted.”

  Madison was having a silent argument with the elevator. She kept pushing a button that wasn’t really a button and started to rage when the little lights signaling the elevator was on call wouldn’t light up. Madison increased her efforts, stabbing the plaque with her finger.

  “Yep, she does.” Alice nodded.

  “This dried-up paint is making it painful to talk, anyway,” Peter added.

  “Is kissing painful too?”

  Peter cupped her face with his hands. “I’ll take the pain like a man.” He kissed her goodnight. “I’ll pick you up here tomorrow at two-ish?”

  “Sure. I’ll leave you my number just in case.”

  They exchanged contact information, and Peter gave her a quick peck on the lips before jogging out into the night. Alice didn’t envy him the walk—or run—home one bit.

  Alice joined Madison in front of the elevator. “Here.” She pushed the up arrow.

  “Was that a Smurf?” Madison asked.

  “Yeah.”

  There was a ding, a swipe of metallic doors, and they stepped inside the elevator.

  “I hate Smurfs,” Madison said.

  “I thought you were with one.”

  “No, I left for a second to get a drink and, poof, he disappeared with another girl.” Madison scoffed. “Story of my life.”

  Madison had a lot of confidence issues and a huge inferiority complex.

  “So, where were you all this time?”

  “Haley and I party hopped, and I drank too much.”

  “You don’t say. Where’s Haley?”

  “She met a guy and left with him.”

  Alice scoffed. “Another masked dude?”

  Haley had been obsessing for months over a guy she’d met at a Venetian Masquerade Ball. After dancing with him most of the night, she’d lost him without ever learning his name, or even what his face looked like.

  Madison shrugged. “If that does it for her.”

  As they reached their floor, Alice helped Madison walk to her room and helped her out of her angel costume. Her friend’s beautiful blonde hair was all ruffled and impossibly tangled. It’d be a bitch to comb through the next morning.

  “Did our plan work?” Madison asked as Alice tucked her into bed. “Was Jack jealous?”

  “I think so.” Alice smirked. “The Smurf downstairs was his best friend and favorite wingman. Jack didn’t seem happy when I left with him.”

  “Good for you.” Madison patted her on the arm. “Now I have to sleep. I’m really tired…” She closed her eyes and her head lolled to the side of the pillow.

  Alice kissed Madison’s forehead and retreated to her room. Blue tried to sneak out, but she snatched him up and closed the door.

  “Here.” She kissed him goodnight and dropped the bunny in his cage, leaving its door open so that if Blue wanted to take a night stroll, he could.

  Alice quickly readied for bed, but it took her a while to drift off to sleep. She didn’t know what to expect from her date tomorrow. Regardless of what Jack said, Peter hadn’t tried anything with her tonight. He couldn’t be the bastard Jack had made him out to be. And what about Jack? Had he gone home with Becky? Was he with her right now?

  As she tossed in bed, Alice tried to convince herself she didn’t care where Jack was or what he was doing. Or with whom.

  Eight

  Jack

  Jack woke up staring at a ceiling that wasn’t his own. He peeked under the bed sheets—he was naked, and his skin had returned to its normal color. The nurse had done a thorough job of cleaning him last night. She stirred beside him, and Jack sighed.

  This was the hard part. The wake-up call could go one of three ways.

  One: The girl he’d slept with didn’t care that this had been a one night stand with no possible future. (This was the best-case scenario.)

  Two: The girl did care, but pretended she didn’t to either save face or to try to convince him she was cool to date. Still good.

  Three: The girl did
care and was a crier and/or a screamer. Criers and screamers ranked equally bad on the scale of unpleasant, morning-after talks, beaten only by a combination of the two.

  Jack really wasn’t in the mood for a shouting match. His head was throbbing, and he needed another hot shower—alone this time. Maybe he could sneak out before she woke up. Pity he was trapped against the wall and not on the easy-escape side of the bed. He could try to climb over the nurse without waking her, but it didn’t seem likely.

  The nurse stretched. “Morning,” she said.

  Jack sighed again. Time for the talk.

  The girl got up immediately without trying to cuddle—a promising sign. She got dressed, and Jack did the same, taking in the whole room as he searched for the exit door.

  “Stop acting like a trapped animal,” said the nurse, who was no longer dressed as a nurse—she was wearing a pair of black leggings and a Harvard sweatshirt. “I’m not going to make a scene if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll make you a cup of coffee—if you want it—and send you on your way. No drama.”

  Jack was surprised. He thought he’d seen it all, but this was a new level of unconcernedness. “I’ll take the coffee,” he said.

  “Milk, sugar, black?”

  “Black is cool.”

  The studio apartment was tiny. The bed doubled as a couch, and the kitchenette was stuffed in a small corner with barely a bar and two stools. Jack sat on one.

  The nurse placed a steamy mug on the countertop. “Here’s your coffee.”

  “Thanks, mmm…”

  “Becky. The name’s Becky.”

  “I knew,” Jack lied.

  She raised an eyebrow. “No need to pretend here.”

  Jack couldn’t help asking, “So, we’re cool?” He usually avoided these questions like the plague.

  “Yeah.”

  “How come?” And here he was asking one after the other.

  “I’m too busy with school to have or want a boyfriend. Alice told me you’d be perfect for a night of fun, so this”—she flipped a finger between them—“is it. Plain and simple. No strings attached.”

  Jack grimaced. “Great!”

  This should’ve been Jack’s dream morning-after speech, but somehow it depressed him. He felt used. Jack slapped his face with his hands to get a grip on himself; he was turning into a girl. What bothered him the most was that Alice had told this girl—Becky—he was one-night-stand material. It hurt, even if it was true. And why had Alice pushed Becky into his arms? After her stunt at the library, it made little sense.

  Yesterday afternoon she’d tried to kiss him, and he suspected there were feelings involved. He was sure it wasn’t by chance she’d somehow showed up at the same Halloween party just a few hours later. Had she wanted to make him jealous? He would have assumed that was the case, except the whole night she’d acted as if nothing had happened between them. She’d barely spoken to him, pushed him to hook up with another girl, and then she’d left with Peter.

  Jack’s blood boiled. If this was all a perverse plan to make him jealous, it was working. The thought of Alice and Peter together made his seat too hot. He’d never been jealous of Alice’s boyfriends, but for some inexplicable reason, Peter was different. Jack had to know what had happened, or, hopefully, what hadn’t happened between them last night.

  He finished the coffee and stood. “Well, Becky, thanks so much for the coffee”—Jack stroked the back of his head with one hand, embarrassed—“and everything else. I’ll get out of here.” Jack peeked out the window; he had no idea where Becky lived, or how they’d gotten here last night. “Err… Where’s ‘here?’”

  “We’re on Litchfield street. It’s a quick walk to campus.”

  “I’m making it a morning run.” He was still wearing his sporty shorts and an old sweatshirt. Mornings in Cambridge in November were viciously cold.

  Becky stared, unimpressed. “Even quicker.”

  She walked him to the door and opened it for him; she was kicking him out. It was a weird novelty for Jack.

  “Do we hug goodbye?” he asked.

  “Sure.” She gave him an unconcerned hug and waved him goodbye.

  Jack jogged home. He beat his roommate to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower followed by a huge, alcohol-draining breakfast. By the time he was done, it was already mid-morning. It was time to make a call. He scrolled through his contacts with his thumb and tapped on Peter’s name.

  Peter picked up on the second ring. “Sullivan, my man, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Captain, you up for a one-on-one game later?”

  “Can’t do,” Peter answered, and alarm bells went off inside Jack’s head. “I have a date,” he added, confirming his fears.

  Jack oh-so-casually asked, “Someone I know?”

  “Yep, that girl from your concentration, Alice Brown. I’m giving her a behind-the-scenes of the Lavietes.”

  Jack ground his teeth and tried to speak in a normal voice. “You guys hit it off, then?”

  “Nah.” Relief washed over Jack as Peter continued, “Turns out the blue paint was great to attract the attention, but a big turn off for the ladies. How did it go with your nurse?”

  “I had her bathe me first,” Jack replied smugly.

  “Ooooh, my man!” Peter hollered. “I should take that page out of your book. You’re a genius.”

  “So you went to bed early? It wasn’t even midnight when you left.”

  “No, the kitten kept me up talking until her roommate came home wasted.”

  Jack stared at the phone, not sure he’d heard right. “You were up all night talking?”

  “Yeah. Your friend was cool, and the paint was too weird anyway. We’ll see how it goes today.”

  Jack was tense again. “What, do you plan to have sex on the court?” he snapped. “If the coach catches you, you’re dead.”

  “Not on the court.” Peter chuckled. “Maybe later. Anyway, your Alice seems more of a slow burner.”

  Exactly, his Alice. “And you’re okay with waiting?”

  “I kind of like this girl.”

  Why, of all girls, did Peter have to walk the line for Ice? “That’s a first.”

  “Who knows, my man; maybe she’ll take one look at my face and decide I’m gross.” Jack doubted it. “She kept saying she was bothered she couldn’t picture how I looked under all the paint.”

  “I’d run for the hills if I saw your ugly face,” Jack joked.

  Peter laughed. “All right, buddy, I’ve gotta run too. See you tomorrow at practice, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Later.”

  Peter hung up.

  Jack stood up and hurled his phone at the bed. It bounced off and landed on the carpet unscathed. Jack kicked it under the bed. What the hell was happening to him? Peter was behaving, and it made him angry instead of relieved. Why was he so mad? Who was he mad at? Alice? Peter? Himself?

  On impulse, Jack picked up his gym duffel bag and decided to go to the MAC and work off some steam. Staying home and brooding definitely wasn’t an option. Instead, he’d do some cardio to sweat out the hangover, and maybe also some weight training. Homework would keep him busy for the rest of the afternoon. Jack couldn’t afford to fall behind, not with the basketball season kicking off next weekend.

  An evil grin spread on his lips as Jack studied the practice schedule hanging over his bed. He wouldn’t have much idle time in the coming months, but neither would Peter have much time to woo Alice. Aha!

  Nine

  Alice

  Madison staggered into Alice’s room, dragging her feet behind her, and sat on the empty bed. “I’m never going to drink again.”

  Alice stopped leafing through her closet to look at her friend. “That’s what every college kid says after a great Halloween party.”

  “Meh, the party kind of sucked.”

  “Agreed.” Alice nodded. “At least i
t got me a date.”

  “About that. What’s your plan here?”

  “Actually, I don’t have one.” Alice resumed her shuffling of clothes. “Thinking I could make Jack jealous was stupid.”

  “I thought it worked.”

  “Yeah, me too, until I read this.” Alice abandoned her closet again, took her phone out of her jeans’ pocket, and handed it to Madison. “It’s the first message on WhatsApp.”

  Becky had sent her a too-graphic text about her showering activities with Jack.

  “Ew,” was Madison’s sole comment.

  “I know,” Alice sighed. “Jack definitely wasn’t heartbroken about me going home with Peter.”

  “So you’re dating his friend now? Doesn’t he have the worst reputation?”

  “He does, but so far he’s been nice.”

  “You like him?”

  “Too early to say.” Alice shrugged. “Let me see his face first, without all that blue paint.”

  Madison tapped the phone. “Want me to find the Crimson roster pics on their website?”

  “Actually, I prefer it to be a surprise.”

  “And if he’s ugly?”

  “I don’t think he is.” Alice smiled a secret smile. “Anyway, a face alone doesn’t do it for me. I need to feel a connection, a spark.”

  “But isn’t he your typical athlete jerk?” Madison insisted.

  “Can’t say yet.” Alice closed the room door before Blue could make a run for it. “I agree with you. On paper, his CV is bad, but last night felt so easy talking to him. It felt right.”

  “You’re giving up on Jack then?”

  Alice wasn’t sure; the text from Becky had churned her stomach. Her feelings toward Jack right now were more violent than loving.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Jack isn’t stupid. He knows yesterday wasn’t just about a rebound, no matter what I said afterward. If he wants to make something out of it, he knows where to find me. In the meantime, I’ll live my life.”