Excerpt below:
“Jonathan, while I’m very flattered, I think you should know, I think we’d be…” Marcy began.
Oh, please, I thought. Please don’t say it…
“We’d be better off as friends,” Marcy concluded.
She said it. She actually said it. The words any guy wants to hear least the in world.
“Best friends. BBFs forever! You know?” she added. The words sounded like pity to me, and pity only made it worse.
“Sure, thing. I understand,” I said, bowing my head, defeated. How many times I had hears a similar speech from a girl I’d liked? Far too many. “I’ll… be getting out of your hair, then,” I said, as I got to my feet.
“Jonathan? You’re not leaving, are you?” Marcy asked, with a surprising burst of emotion in her voice.
“Well. I mean… I guess not?” I hedged. “But, I thought you said… you just wanted to be friends…”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Marcy asked. “Don’t you have any close friends of your own? Friends who are closer than lovers?”
“Well…” I hedged. Closer than lovers? How would that even work? “Not… really, no.”
“No?” Marcy asked, pouting a little. Damn, those lips were sexy, I thought. I tried to shove that thought out of my mind – I wouldn’t get to kiss them anyhow, so what was the point? But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Marcy was cute and chubby, with a warm smile, with wavy brown hair, rich hazel eyes, and creamy pale skin. I know a lot of other guys might not have been so impressed, but to me, Marcy was just perfect.
“Guys have… buddies, you know. Not BFFS. We don’t, you know, pour our hearts out to each other and paint each other’s nails or anything like that,” I said with a little chuckle.
“That’s a real shame, you should try it sometime,” said Marcy.
“I… don’t think any of my friends would be up for that,” I said, laughing again, this time my voice sounding a little more strained.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Jonathan. You do have a friend who’d be up for it,” she said, winking a little.
“I… I do?” I asked, struggling to think who it might be.
“Of course! It’s me you big silly,” Marcy said, playfully slapping at my leg. The skin tingled a little where she had touched me, and I shifted the way I was sitting. If she touched me again, I was worried I’d start to develop a visible…