Love, Lust & Friendship Read online

  He grinned and dragged himself into the kitchen to the fridge. Which was annoyingly close to the kettle.

  “I’d love a coffee. Thanks, Sonny,” he said, nudging my hip with his as he rummaged in the freezer.

  I nudged him back a little less peaceably as Aunt Jelly took over the chorus for Jessica Simpson’s ‘I Think I’m in Love with You’. “No one calls me Sonny anymore, Ranger Dan.”

  I’d been Sonny briefly when I was about eleven and I’d decided that Addy was stupid, but it was short-lived and had only made everyone call Ander ‘Cher’ – not that he’d minded at all and it was the reason he did such a stunning rendition of ‘Believe’ that he pulled out at least once a party. Some people just didn’t realise that jokes got old. Mind you, it had been years since Topher had wanted to be a wildlife officer like Ranger Dan.

  “No one should listen to this song,” he muttered, throwing a look over his shoulder to where Aunt Jelly was singing – loudly but only slightly off-key.

  I snorted and looked as well; at least she was happy. “I’m not making coffee. Make your own.”

  “Oh, please, Addy…” he pleaded, ribbing me with his unnecessarily naked shoulder as we looked into each other’s eyes.

  My chest did that annoying flutter thing which was only exacerbated when he bit his lip and waggled his eyebrows at me enticingly.

  “You know you want to,” he said with another couple of eyebrow wiggles.

  I had to bite my lip so I didn’t laugh and encourage him. “No. I don’t. You make a better coffee anyway.”

  It was basically impossible since the Hendersons had a pod machine, but he was more amiable when his ego was stroked.

  I found mugs and tea bags for the teas I was making.

  “Oh, now that’s just not true,” he said as he found the banana and dropped it on the bench next to Aunt Jelly.

  “Zooper Dooper!” Ander called.

  Topher smiled, got one out, threw it to his ecstatic little brother, and then turned back to me. “An insincere compliment is ten times worse than none at all, Addison.”

  “I guess when Saint Basils’ Most Wanted gives you dating advice you should take it, huh?” I asked, as Aunt Jelly moved onto that Billy Joel one about rock and roll and Ander joined in enthusiastically – Ander loved singing, and thankfully he was better at it than Aunt Jelly.

  Topher chuckled roughly. “I give more than advice, Ads.”

  “Oh, you’re offering lessons now?” I asked, feigning interest, as I got more cups out for the coffees anyway – Ander was going to want one, too.

  His eyes sparkled as I looked into them. “To any who’d like them.”

  “And how much will that cost me, Christopher? Is my dignity enough? My virginity maybe? Or, would the slow, agonising wearing down of my sanity over all these years cover it?”

  He smirked and pulled the milk out of the fridge. “Addy, for you, I’d waive my fee out of the goodness of my heart. Call it a community service.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Wow. Thanks, Toph. Tell me. Does that schtick ever work for you?” I turned to him as I started pouring water into the tea cups.

  He gave me a knowing half-smile. “When I want it to, anything works for me.”

  I couldn’t help the completely undignified snort that escaped me and he laughed.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That is… No. That was awful. The 90s called and they want their teen movie dialogue back.”

  He chuckled and leant his lips to my ear. “You can admit it works a little,” he whispered.

  Goose bumps chased each other across my skin and his breath was warm on my neck. I turned to frown at him, getting a niggling of that unfathomable annoyance again when I looked at him.

  “The only thing about you that works on me is when you make me coffee, Topher,” I said evenly, but I smiled.

  He was smiling, too. “Do you need a coffee as well as a tea?”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not consent, is it?”

  I snorted. “Fine. Yes. Thank you.”

  “So, are we ready for next week?” Aunt Jelly asked, turning around and holding up the full muffin tray proudly.

  “No,” the three of us answered.

  Ander and I looked at Topher accusingly.

  “You didn’t have to come back,” Ander reminded him.

  “And let down my people?” he scoffed and Ander and I rolled our eyes to each other.

  “You’re not the king, Toph,” Ander said.

  “No. I’m more like the president. Voted in and all that.”

  Ander opened his mouth but Aunt Jelly was faster. “Can we not argue when there are muffins to be cooked?” she asked, smiling at the two boys.

  They bowed their heads and nodded, both wearing matching conceding smiles.

  “Good.” Aunt Jelly put the muffins in the oven then turned to the boys and opened her arms. “Come on, then.”

  They both walked forward and let her hug them, reluctant at first, then all for it because – when it came down to it – they all loved each other.

  “Someone’s missing!” Aunt Jelly sang.

  “Babe,” Ander said as Topher waved an arm at me and said, “Get in here, Ads.”

  I hurried over and joined in, Aunt Jelly and I getting basically squashed by the two of them. But, that was what it was like to be an honorary Henderson. And, being an honorary Henderson was a thousand times better than being a MacGuire any day.

  Chapter Two

  Monday morning was assembly time, even on the first day back at school. Ander and I sat, elbowing each other, as the Principal droned on about whatever it was he droned on about, on the first Monday back, when very few of us were awake and less wanted to be wasting what was left of summer by sitting inside.

  Next to me, Derek was whispering something to Will and Tate further down. Meanwhile, I was using Ander’s sporadic elbowing to keep me awake; I was not a morning person and I was particularly not a Monday morning person. But, I jumped when a very loud, too-recognisable voice came over the PA.

  “Good morning, Saint Basils!”

  “Good morning…” Now, here the seemingly innate, carefully choreographed response of hundreds of students got sloppy as some people finished with “Hendo,” some with “Kit,” and Ander and I muttered “Christopher,” under our breaths much the same way Sheldon utters ‘Wheaton’.

  “Welcome back to another year,” Topher said in that sarcastically excitable way Matthew McConaughey had in…well every movie he was in. It was much the same way I expected he was going to start every Monday morning assembly speech for the rest of the year, as he raked his hair off his face in the way that was supposed to make girls throw themselves at him. And, I was glad it was Monday Morning Zombie-Mania in my brain so it didn’t go on vacation at the sight of that smile for once. “Ramp up the excitement, Basils.” Here, he did a drumroll on the podium. “The Year 12 jumpers will be delivered in week five, y’all!” Cue much applause as he threw his arms out, loudest from the Year 12 section of the assembly. “A reminder that sports start next week. I have recently been reminded that it’s good for your health. So, I’m meant to convince the Matrics to go out for something, too. Which means we all need to savour our last Saturday sleep-in for a while this weekend…”

  “Did you skip all caffeine this morning? Or, just the crucial bits?” Ander whispered, leaning over to me with a snigger.

  I dug my elbow into his side a little harder. “All of it actually.”

  “You know what you’re like when you– Ow!” he whined as someone behind us smacked him up-side the head and shushed us.

  I snorted and bit my lip as I turned around. A girl in the year below us looked very pointedly at me, then shot her eyes to Topher, then they were trained back on me with a glare.

  “Sorry, couldn’t possibly interrupt his majesty,” I whispered to her and Ander fought to contain a snort.<
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  She glared at me again and I turned back around in my seat and resigned myself to listening to Topher prattle on about the upcoming sports tournaments, and the formal committee plans, and the new parking lot, and the… God, it was boring.

  But, it was his job as Head Prefect.

  Our school did this thing where the Head Prefect was actually a Year 13. At the end of each year, the Year 12s and Year 11s would vote for whoever in Year 12 they thought would make the best Head Prefect the next year. Then, that student came back for Year 13, only doing one or two subjects for show really and otherwise using their time to lead the prefects and help the staff run the school wisely or some shit. Topher had won the previous year’s vote by a landslide. Everyone said it was unanimous, and I had to admit I would have voted for him; the lesser of two evils and all that.

  Finally, Topher finished up with a “peace out, Basils” to unnecessarily raucous applause, then a couple of teachers did their thing, and the start of school uber assembly was over and it was finally time for Recess.

  I dragged myself out of my chair as everyone around me did the same and suddenly I was standing in a forest. This was what largely contributed to something Ander and I called Short-Ass Syndrome (or SAS). And, it’s what happens when your friends are all like six foot or more and you’re barely scraping 5’5”.

  “If I’d known in junior school,” I muttered for the millionth time as we all started heading out.

  “Then, you’d still love us anyway,” Ander, Derek, Will and Tate all chorused with a chuckle and I muttered a few unsavoury things at them. Derek laughed and squeezed my shoulders companionably before turning back to say something to Will.

  And look, one good thing about having comparatively super tall friends was that I never got squashed in a crowd. They always made sure to keep me from being trampled.

  “You know, I was the tall one once,” I grumbled, remembering the good old days before they’d started growing at an alarming rate and didn’t show any sign of stopping.

  “Yeah, but then we had to go and get all sexy and you stayed all cute,” Tate teased, ruffling my hair.

  I swatted my hands at him. “Watch who you’re calling cute, dipshit. And, who says you got sexy? From where I’m standing, you’re just gross boys.”

  “Just because there’s only one kind of sexy you’re into and he’s–”

  “Do not want to hear that,” Ander laughed, throwing a smile and a chastising finger at Tate.

  “What?” Derek scoffed sarcastically. “You don’t want to hear about Addy and Kit?”

  I shuddered. Much like Ander, it was a great source of amusement to my friends that my brain went a little wobbly around Topher now and then. Not that he was the only one it happened around, nor was I the only one who caught a case of wobbly brain around certain people, so it’s not like there wasn’t plenty of teasing to go around between the five of us. And, most of the teasing only occurred when the person being drooled over was not an actual crush, more an object of lust. If there were feelings involved, teasing was (generally) off the table.

  Ander waggled his finger at Derek. “There is no Addy and Kit to hear–”

  “Hey!” the butt-head in question called as he made his way in our direction, the crowd easily parting to let him through. And it was definitely not just the prefect’s blazer that had people throwing themselves out of his way.

  I ignored him as much as I usually did. Because Topher may not have noticed, but we also had an image to maintain and being seen with popular jerks like him kinda made that impossible.

  “Hey!” Topher called again and we looked at him out of pure habit to find he was actually looking at us.

  “Hey yourself,” I answered and made to keep moving because I expected that he was just acknowledging us in passing as he was occasionally known to do.

  “You still need a ride home?” he asked me and I stopped dead.

  “What?” I looked at Ander accusingly. “What’s wrong with our baby?” It had been fine mere hours ago.

  He shrugged self-consciously. “Nothing. I just… I thought I’d sign up for AV club this year. They meet Mondays and Wednesdays. I hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet,” he said pointedly to his brother.

  I rolled my eyes, knowing the reason Ander wanted to do AV club and knowing I wasn’t winning any argument against said joining. “So, Toph’s supposed to take me home?”

  “Yes,” both brothers said at once, then glared at each other. Because how dare they have anything in common!

  “Did you bring the Camaro?” I asked as we were jostled a little from kids going around us – saying hi to us and Topher – and I felt Ander’s hand steady me. “And, can I drive?”

  Topher rolled his eyes, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but talking to us despite the fact he’d come up to us. “Yes, but no.”

  I gaped at him. “Why not?”

  He looked around and sighed. “I don’t have the plates. I’ll see you in the carpark after school.”

  “Hey, Hendo!” someone yelled and Topher looked more than happy to shift his focus to cooler people.

  “And, when pray tell did you decide to join the AV club?” I asked Ander as Derek mouthed off to someone who’d been about to run into me. “I want names. I want places. I want dates.”

  “Ander Henderson. His shower. This morning.”

  Of course, the one morning in however long I hadn’t slept at his place. That made me resolved never to let him get ready for school on his own again. Dude could obviously not be trusted to make sensible decisions.

  “And, you didn’t tell me on the way to school, because…?”

  “It was the usual level of Monday Morning Zombie-Mania in there. Look, I told Toph as I walked out this morning and I thought I’d have a chance to tell you before His Heinous deigned to talk to us.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t actually annoyed I’d have to get a ride from Topher – especially not in Topher’s Camaro. I was actually annoyed that Ander was setting himself up to get his heart broken by stupid Tess March. The boy hadn’t learnt by now that all crushes sucked, and still let his heart lead him on wild goose chases which ended in us binging Aunt Jelly’s old-school rom-coms with tubs of ice cream. Not that I hated Aunt Jelly’s rom-coms or ice cream; I’m not a monster. I just wished Ander wasn’t the hopeless romantic of the two of us who never learned.

  “Ads, if you don’t want me–”

  “Nah, babe. It’s fine. You play with your fandangled moving pictures.”

  It wasn’t up to me to decide who he crushed on. It was my job to be by his side through the highs and lows and let him do him. If it went well, I’d celebrate with him. If I had to clean up after, then I’d do that too with no judgements. It was an unspoken rule of Best Friend 101. And, if any of my crushes ever went past the one or two kisses stage, then I knew Ander would return the favour.

  “We’ll see you losers in a minute,” Tate said absently as he and Will went one way to their lockers.

  “Later,” Derek said as he went another to his, ruffling my hair before he left.

  “Dude!” I yelled after him incredulously, then gave Ander a smile. “And, then there were two.”

  Ander scoffed as he put his arm over my shoulder and we headed for our lockers. “It will always be us two.”

  I nodded. “True that.”

  “So, I’m thinking cornflour,” he mused

  I thought about that, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “They use that to make fake blood, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Why have we not thought about that before?”

  “I dunno. Was it because you were stuck on the self-raising flour thing?”

  I snorted. “So, the idea of making a Topher muffin was a bust.”

  I’d gone through a phase – after Aunt Jelly had taught us how to make cupcakes – where I’d used self-raising flour instead of plain for my tacky bombs becau
se I’d thought the summer heat would cook the tacky mix and turn Topher into a walking muffin I could then tease mercilessly. My plan had been a bust, but I’d teased him anyway. And, Ander and I had spent most of our time since on getting the ratios perfect.

  But, his idea of cornflour seemed like a good one.

  “It could make it slimier,” I said, thinking just how slimy it might be.

  “Slimier is always better.”

  I nodded as we stopped at our lockers. “It is.”

  “Who would we test it on?” he asked and we looked at each other.

  Our smiles grew in tandem; eight years of best friendship gave you a ridiculous ability to read the other person’s mind.

  “Topher,” we said in unison with a nod.

  “He might kill us,” Ander said, pulling open his locker.

  “Then we go out in a blaze of glory,” I said, opening mine; sitting right next to his the way it had since the first day of Year 8.

  We did our secret handshake before we grabbed some food, slammed our lockers at the same time, then headed out to meet the guys at our spot.

  “Addison?” I heard a call and looked around to see our Bio teacher Mr Rawlins.

  “Hey, sir,” I said with a nod.

  “That a new belt, Addison?” he asked and I looked down, for a moment forgetting which one I was wearing.

  It was indeed a new one. Our school was pretty reasonable in their expectations for a private school. We got to wear almost any accessories we wanted as long as we couldn’t hurt anyone with them and they weren’t offensive. Usually, Ander and I wore matching black studded belts. But, I’d thrown on my red tartan one with my pants that morning considering I’d left my black one at his house.

  Our school colours were dark purple, blue and yellow if you went by the girls’ skirt pattern – or some paler version if you looked at the girls’ summer dress (too many choices? Yes, yes there were). But, we also got the choice of navy pants to go with either the white or pale blue shirt, so the tartan belt had seemed less like a bad choice to my Monday Morning Zombie-Mania brain.