We Used to Be Friends by Amy Spalding

Author:Amy Spalding
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2020-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

Dad’s standing in the kitchen when I walk out of my room on Friday night on my way to a party at a junior’s. I mean, free beers are free beers. I did my best to get James to join us, but I guess I’m not that surprised she wasn’t interested. Hopefully I at least seem like a caring friend who won’t ever screw up again.

“Do you have a date?” I ask him, because he’s wearing a shirt I think is new, and he smells like aftershave.

“Diane’s friends are having some thing,” he says. “I’ll have to make conversation with a bunch of people in the South Bay.”

“OMG, be nice, Dad,” I say, because Dad’s often said he doesn’t understand why anyone would live so close to the ocean.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says. “You going out with Quinn?”

“Well, we’re going to a party. It’s always, like, the same people, but hopefully it won’t suck. If it does, we’ll just go get tacos or something.”

“Always a good backup plan.” He pats my shoulder. “Be safe. Don’t drink and drive.”

“We’re just walking,” I say. “We’ll be careful. Haven’t you noticed that Quinn’s, like, a very smart and careful person?”

“She’s a lot better than that joker you went out with before,” he says. “That’s for sure.”

“Dad, can’t you like her not just in comparison to Matty?”

The doorbell rings, and Dad gets it. “Come on in, Quinn.”

She walks in and grins at me. Her hair looks extra tall and swoopy, and she’s wearing a black leather jacket over her flannel, like an old-timey heartthrob. I clench my hands into tiny fists so that I don’t accidentally start running my fingers through her hair in front of my dad.

“Have fun, girls,” Dad says. “Quinn, you’re careful when you’re out with my daughter, right?”

“Dad.”

“Yes, sir, of course,” Quinn says, like my dad’s not being weird when he super clearly is.

I grab her hand and say good night to Dad before dragging Quinn outside. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She leans in and kisses me, slow and hot and intense. She can just do that, out of nowhere. My breath feels gone.

“My dad’s about to leave.” I slip my hands around her waist, under her jacket, over her warm soft flannel. “We could sneak back in.”

“Is it really sneaking if you have a key?” she asks me, but I know that it’s a yes. We hide out around the back and wait until Dad’s Subaru leaves the driveway, turns left on Clark, and disappears into the night. Of course, I have a key and this is my freaking home, but I feel myself heating up over the idea of sneaking in with Quinn. It’s like we’re getting away with something, when in truth I always feel like we are. How can it (mostly) be so (mostly) perfect?

It’s a rush to get to my room, to manage to not pull each other’s clothes off before they can be safely discarded on my bedroom floor. But then it’s slow, as Quinn holds me and practically dares me with just a look to take my time.

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