Lizzie

"Hey Lilly. I'll be ready in half an hour." Lilly smiles at me on the vid call.

"Fantastic. Just checking in with you, Lizzie, to make sure you're still coming out with us girls later."

"Absolutely. What should I wear?" I'm a bit nervous about going with them all to the house party; usually I refrain from these. I'm not as ambitious about dressing as the others, especially not like Tammy. She's a regular short-skirt, open-blouse type of girl. That's not my style.

"Wear something casual. I'm wearing this." Lilly says, then moves back a bit so I can check out her outfit. She's wearing frayed cut-off shorts and blue denim.

"I love your halter top. I'm so into hearts."

"I know, I just love it. Picked it up from D&G last weekend. Something like this would suit you." I love Lilly; she's so adorable and sweet and always has something nice to say to everyone.

"Yeah, maybe this weekend I'll go shopping. I'm just finishing up my assignment, then I'll get ready."

"You want me to come and pick you up so you can have a drink?" I don't think I will be drinking; it's a school night, and besides that, I am not a drinker. I've seen what it does to Brandon when he's had too much, and we're underage strictly speaking. Sure, I know everyone in senior is doing it, but that's up to them.

"No, don't worry about the lift. I've already asked my dad to take me. You know I don't drink, and I've not chosen a car yet."

"Girl, you have to get on that. You have no idea how liberating it is to have your own car." She says whilst wagging a finger at me. She's right, I suppose I ought to. Only I have Brandon, who ordinarily runs me around. Since we're always joined at the hip, I see no point in having my own car just yet. I passed my test months ago, but it's not high on my agenda right now.

"Brandon takes me everywhere since we hang out mostly together," I tell her.

"Yeah, about that. Are you sure you guys aren't going to be an item?" I shake my head vigorously even though I know I am blushing. Again.

"Why is everyone banging on about it? Jeez, we're just friends, and I bet when we go to our separate colleges it'll all change."

"That's going to be real tough, right?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"For sure, Lilly. Listen, let me get this done and catch up with you at the party." She air-blows kisses at the screen; I return some and then end the call.

I really do not want to think about Brandon and me being separated when we go to college, but I'm going to Texas, and he is staying here in Cali to attend San Diego, where he will play for the Aztecs.

It pulls at my heart as I think about the girls he will see and date, the cheerleaders who will make a grab for him. I have a lump in my throat and feel like bawling my eyes out. I love him so much it fucking hurts, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. When you're in love with your best friend, and he only sees you as that, it's a really tough shit situation to be in.

I swallow hard to avoid crying; I don't want to go to the party with red, blotchy eyes. It'll definitely turn Dexter off. I don't even know why I'm going. Someone like Dexter will surely already have a girl he's going with. They're probably going to be vying for prom queen and king. Dexter certainly could be crowned with his gorgeous looks, enigmatic smile and super-hot body. And yes, whilst he is all that, he isn't Brandon with his jet black hair, electric blue Travolta eyes and a dimple in his right cheek. And when Brandon runs his long fingers through his hair, it doesn't just turn all the girls on; it makes me have butterflies and a warm sensation that floods my body. I've got it so bad for him. I really have.

I've finished my assignment; we don't have to hand it in until Monday. I decide to tackle Brandon's tomorrow night or hopefully make him do it himself. Since we are supposed to be spending the evening together. Friday is usually our movie night, and we watch all sorts of corny romantic films that he appeases me with and watches with me. We take it in turns.

One week we watch one of my girlie movies and the next week, we watch one of his sniper or violent movies. It's a cute thing, and I look forward to them very much; I get to sit really close to Brandon as he puts an arm around my shoulders and drapes one hand over me.

The number of times I've wanted to pull his hand down to touch me, I can't tell you since I've lost count. But we used to just snuggle up like kids do, watching movies. Then when we were about fifteen, he started draping his arm around my shoulder. Every time I feel my heart zing, my whole body zings. I feel like fireworks are erupting inside and I have to remind myself not to turn to him and kiss him. His lips are full and luscious. They're bee-stung and remind me of Angelina Jolie's lips. I love them. I adore them. I want to kiss them.

Okay, so now I'm feeling slightly turned on. I remind myself to stop right now and start to find something to wear.

My closet is a walk-in with sensor lighting that throws off a warm orange glow as I enter the room. I have racks of clothes on both sides, and directly in front of me are shelves upon shelves of designer shoes. I always wanted a Carrie Bradshaw wardrobe when she lived with Big, in Sex and the City. Daddy, of course, had it installed and built, and I absolutely love it. I could stay in here all day, well and the library downstairs. That's also one of my favorite places in the house.

I select a pair of worn blue denim jeans frayed at the bottom, my white Converse pumps, and a skinny-ribbed black halter top. My hair is already in a ponytail on the top of my head, so I leave it. I'm not really big on doing fancy stuff with my hair; I'm more natural. If it's easy, I'll opt for it.

Grabbing my small Tommy Hilfiger bag off a hanger, I check myself over in the tall standing mirror in my closet, then head out of my room. My phone rings. It's sitting on my dressing table.

It's Brandon. Why is he calling me? Shouldn't he be at practice still? I flick the screen up.

"Hey, you." I say and smile.

"I thought I'd check in with you. Sorry for ditching you with my assignment." His dimple appears as he gives me that smile. The one that makes me mushy inside and send those butterflies swirling around my stomach.

"No problem. To be honest, I haven't done it. It's taken me all this time to square mine away. We can do it together when we watch a movie tomorrow."

"Thanks, Lizzie Baby." I giggle; I adore the nickname he gives me. "And be good at the party. Don't go flirting with any guys and getting a hickey. I don't wanna have to beat anyone up for touching my girl." Did he just say that? My Girl. Okay, okay, so I know he only means it as in his friend, but still. It sounded awesome.

"I'm going to kiss them all and get as many hickies as I possibly can." I laugh and see him scowl. Ooo, what's got into Brandon, I wonder?

"Just be careful. You can talk to Dexter, and that's it."

"Excuse me, who are you to tell me who I can and can't talk to?" Now he's pissing me off. I mean, we're just friends, so he doesn't have the right to give me this kind of crap.

"I'll catch up with you later, Lizzie. Have fun and be careful." I hang up and think, who the hell does he think he is? It's not on that he can go and get off with Jennie later tonight in his truck, the same one he drives me around in and tell me I can't speak to anyone.

Right! Well, I'm going to show Brandon.