“Who’s that?” Chris asks.
I glance over and because I don’t want to lie, I tell him, “no one,” which is probably worse.
Chris frowns but doesn’t say anything more about it. He drives us out of the school parking lot, then pulls over and lets me take the wheel. I was nervous at first driving his car, but he’s good about helping me relax. He doesn’t get pissed at me when I make mistakes. I clipped a mailbox once taking a turn too close, and he just laughed his ass off.
We’re on the bridge going over the intercoastal to the beaches. Windows down, hair blowing in the breeze. Perfect, until Chris ruins it by saying, “You and Dave have been hanging out a lot.”
I think back to the story Dave shared earlier that day. I haven’t said a word about Dave to Chris. And at school Dave and I hardly even talk to each other, so where is Chris getting his information?
“How do you know?”
“Find My Friends.”
We installed that app when I first got my cell phone a couple of years back. I checked it a few times when Chris was in California, just to see how far away he was, but I haven’t looked at it since then. Kind of strange that he has. And how does he know where Dave lives?
“I asked him if he had any decks for sale,” Chris says, then waits for me to respond. When I don’t, he says, “He didn’t.”
“You ask him to cut your hair too?” I don’t like Chris checking up on me, especially when I have something to hide.
“Why are you lying to me?”
“About Dave selling decks?”
“About everything.”
We exit off the bridge, and I pull over into a beach access and park the car, grab my stuff from the back seat, including my deck. I so don’t want to have this conversation with him. Chris has a way of getting me to spill my guts.
“What the hell, Theo?” Chris grabs hold of my arm and squeezes. He’s strong. Even though I’m pissed, I kind of like it. I never back away or flinch when Chris touches me. I like his grip. So messed up, I know.
“We used to tell each other everything,” he says. “Now you act like you don’t even know me.”
“It’s not that.” Chris takes everything so personal. I dump my stuff on my lap. The car’s still running, so I turn it off.
“What is it, then? Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Because of what happened in—”
“No,” I interrupt him. Chris can’t have it both ways. He can’t have me as his ever-faithful lap dog and expect me to just sit around and watch him hold court with every hot babe that struts through Sabal Palm High. It’s not fair. I’m friggin’ lonely. Dave is there, and he’s into me. He’s not Chris, but he’s not nothing either.
“Maybe I’m too dependent on you, you know?” I say to him. “Like, for the past five years, it’s just been you and me. And I do whatever you tell me to.”
“You don’t do whatever I tell you.”
I give him a look. We both know Chris gets his way more often than not.
“So, Dave is like, Chris 2.0?” He winces as though the thought physically pains him. As if.
“No, he’s not. Dave is just a guy I hang out with. He’s funny and we… get along. You can’t be the only person in my life. You have your surf friends and your family and your girlfriends and I… I just have you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I hate getting emotional in front of him. Makes me feel like such a baby. Chris stares at me. He no longer looks angry; he looks hurt. His gaze drifts out to the water. His lower lip juts out, tempting me still. What would Chris do if I just leaned over and pulled him in for a big, fat kiss? With tongue. Probably freak out.
“You can drive us home,” Chris says, completely deflated and still not looking at me. He cleans a patch of dust off the dashboard with his finger in a slow spiral. “I’m sorry for giving you shit. You can hang out with whoever you want. I won’t bother you about it again.”
I want to say something to make him feel better, but I don’t know what, so I toss my stuff in the back and take the shortest route home, trying to concentrate on the road and not on Chris, who stares out the window the whole way with his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking sad as hell.
The exact thing I wanted to avoid is happening—I’m losing my best friend.
