Forever, Again

Sara shook her head at me. “Come on, Amber. You guys are barely smooching in the hallway anymore. What gives?”

I pulled on my fuzzy slippers and refused to look at her. I loved Sara, but as graduation was approaching, she was turning into someone I barely recognized. All she did was spend a lot of her time wasting it. She seemed to have no ambition beyond where she could get her next buzz. The choices she made were starting to really worry and upset me, but I’d been setting aside both my opinion and irritation in favor of our friendship. I tried to remind her about how much potential she had, how much I believed in her, but, lately, it was falling on deaf ears.

“Nothing gives,” I said lightly, in answer to her question. Then I pointed to the clock on the wall. “Come on, if we want to watch the movie before my parents get home, we’ll have to start it now.”

My parents had just gotten a brand-new VHS player and Daddy had taken me to the video store earlier to rent Grease—one of my favorite films. Sara and I had planned a pajama party to watch it as my parents were going to be out late. Spence was hanging out with his friends that night, too.

Well, most of his friends. He and Jamie still weren’t speaking since their fight the week before. And no matter how much I asked about it, Spence wouldn’t tell me what’d sparked the fight or the one before that on his porch. And I didn’t think the first fight was a continuation of the previous thing. There was something else that’d been added to their feud, but whatever it was, Spence wouldn’t tell me. He’d become even more distant with me in the ensuing days, and I was terrified he was about to break up with me.

The doorbell rang just as Sara and I were getting settled on the couch. I opened the door to find Britta standing there, triumphantly holding up two six-packs of beer.

“Ta-da!” she said, dancing into the living room.

“Oh my God!” Sara squealed. “You got it?”

“Told ya I’d come through,” she said, handing off the package to Sara, who promptly popped open one of the cans.

Sara took a big swig. “Oh, man, that’s good!” she said.

I made a disgusted face. I didn’t like beer, and I didn’t know how Sara could stand the bitter, awful taste. She offered me one of the cans, and I shook my head. “No thanks.”

Britt gave Sara a look that said, Told ya so. It irritated me.

“I’ve got rum,” Britt said, her eyes glistening with mischief. Opening her jean jacket, she pulled out a fifth from one of the inside pockets. “Diet Coke in the fridge?”

“Yeah, but don’t go crazy, Britt. My parents are coming home soon.”

“I thought they were out till, like, eleven?” Sara said. I wanted to punch her.

“Sometimes they come home early.”

“God, Amber, will you lighten up?” Britt said. “You’re always Little Miss Perfect. It’s annoying.”

My chest tightened, my face got hot, and my eyes immediately misted. I turned away from Britt and Sara so they wouldn’t see. I knew I was pretty anal, but I’d been that way since I could remember, and it hurt my feelings to hear one of my best friends say something so mean. Still, I didn’t say anything in reply. I was barely holding it together these days anyway, and if I lost it in front of these two they’d bug me until I confessed all my fears and worries about Spence and me.

The truth was that I didn’t know where we stood anymore. I couldn’t get Spence to give me a straight answer about the scholarship from Mrs. Bennett. He kept insisting that she was still coming through with the money, but he never met my eyes when he said it. There wasn’t an easy way for me to find out, either. I certainly couldn’t ask Mrs. Bennett.

Or maybe I could? Maybe when she came in for her next hair appointment I could casually thank her for helping Spence out, and if she told me she wasn’t, then I’d know.

I had no idea what we’d do if she didn’t give him the money. I’d dropped off the financial aid package that his mother needed to fill out months ago, but so far, she hadn’t done it, and Spence refused to pressure her about it because his mom had issues. Emotional. Mental. The works.

“Hi, Bailey!” I heard Britt say. I softened a little toward her when I saw her plop down to her knees and snuggle with my dog. I was going to miss Bailey so much! But it was only for a couple of years. Mom and Dad promised me that they’d get her to California for my junior and senior year—provided I found available housing that was dog-friendly. By then, Spence and I could be living together. If we were still together, that is.

“So, what’s going on?” Britt said, getting up to saunter over to the love seat with her rum and Diet Coke. I wondered if those were the only calories she’d had all day.

“Not much,” I said, flipping on the TV and reaching for the video, still in its plastic holder. “We were just about to watch Grease.”

Sara made a pffing sound. I noticed she’d already downed the first beer and was working on the second. Turning to Britt, she said, “Little Miss P won’t tell me what’s going on with her and Spence.”

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