Livvy sighs, her gaze glued to the field. The boys are running through drills and I’m struggling not to seek out Tuttle. But of course I do. He’s like a magnet and I’m steel and I’ll be forever drawn to him.
What a depressing thought.
“I do miss her,” she finally admits, turning to look at me. “But after everything that’s happened, how can we get our friendship back?”
“It’s not like it’s gone forever,” I say gently. “You still talk to Dustin and he’s betrayed you just as much as Em has. Maybe even more so.”
Oh yes, I dared to go there. Livvy’s eyes flare and I see the anger. Is it anger at me for reminding her of Dustin’s part in all of this? She shouldn’t forget. Forgiving him is somehow easy, but forgiving Em isn’t?
“I’ve known him longer,” she murmurs. “It’s harder to let him go.”
Because she wants him, though she’d never admit it to me. She wants both boys, but that would never work. I’m not going to say that to her. She needs to figure it out on her own.
“It should be hard to let Em go, too, Liv. I think she’s suffering without your friendship.” Something tells me she’s been suffering for a while, and it has nothing to do with Livvy or Ryan or Dustin.
“I’m suffering too. We’re all suffering.”
“Then be the bigger person and make it better. Reach out to your friend. Tell her you miss her. Try your best to forgive her.”
“It’s not that easy.” Livvy frowns and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look sadder. All the anger is gone. She just looks…defeated. “I’m scared,” she whispers. “Em knows all of my strengths and weaknesses. She knows how to hurt me with a look, a few chosen words, a deliberate move. And since I’ve come back home from my dad’s, she’s hurt me over and over, and she doesn’t seem to care. I don’t know if I can trust her again.”
“Then take it slow.” I nudge her side with my own. “Ease into it. But don’t just shut her out. I think she’s hurting more than she’ll ever admit.”
“Don’t forget how she tried to sabotage our relationships, Amanda. That photo she posted on Instagram was aimed at us. She’s jealous.” Liv shakes her head. “And she ratted me out to my mom about Ryan’s party. You might’ve not got in trouble, but I was grounded for a week! That’s all Em’s fault.”
“Maybe if you guys can talk it out, it won’t happen again,” I suggest, trying to sound positive. Don’t know how long I can maintain it, though.
“Please,” Livvy mutters, shaking her head.
She’s quiet for a while and so I remain quiet too. I watch the boys play, the constant whistle blowing from Coach Halsey making me wince. He’s running them especially hard this week, what with this Friday’s homecoming game. And there’s nothing worse than losing that game. You not only disappoint the entire school, you let down the alumni as well.
Tuttle’s on fire, though. He throws the ball with expert precision, a spiral in the sky, I can almost hear the whoosh as it flies through the air. I have to admit Ryan catches just about every one of those passes and does his damnedest to run it into the end zone. He’s a great player. Together they seem almost unstoppable.
“Okay, I’ll try to talk to Em,” Livvy finally says minutes later, a long sigh escaping her. “I’m probably making a huge mistake, but I’ll reach out to her for you, okay?”
“Good.” I smile and nod, feeling like I actually accomplished something. But Livvy’s giving me a weird look, and my smile instantly fades. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know why you’re trying to heal my friendship with Em or whatever. The two of us became friends because I’m not really hanging out with her anymore.”
“Can’t we all be friends?” Nerves bubble in my stomach. I never thought of it that way. What if Em and Livvy really do reconcile and cut me out of the relationship altogether? I would have no one to blame for that happening but myself.
“I want us to,” Livvy says slowly. “But sometimes…Em can be really possessive.”
“Well, she’s just going to have to learn how to share,” I say with a faint smile.
Livvy nods, returning a similar almost-smile before she resumes staring at the field. “Oh my God, Ryan is so awesome.”
“Yeah,” I say distractedly. Worry nags at me for the rest of the time we sit on the bleachers, though. What if it’s not that simple?
But when is any of this ever simple?
Friday night. I’m working. I’m not at the homecoming game. The rally right before school ended was a study in torture. All of the homecoming nominees were brought out to the center of the gymnasium and Lauren Mancini stood next to Tuttle, beaming like a beauty queen and adorable in her cheer uniform, her ponytail bobbing as she smiled and waved at everyone.
Tuttle just stood there, stoic and handsome in his jersey and jeans, his gaze scanning the crowd as if he was searching for someone before he gave up.