Lizzie

I lay awake most of the evening, and now I feel like total shit. The thought of Brandon being with that girl made me feel literally sick to my stomach. I tossed and turned, read the same page of my book at least three times, and in the end just put it away. What was the point? Sometimes I wonder if I should just come out and tell him and get it over with. Maybe he likes me the same way, and he's too scared to say anything. Neither one of us would want to risk our friendship.

Only I know the way he sleeps around and dates lots of different girls, that Brandon just doesn't see me like this.

It's nine, and he's coming over in an hour. I should at least haul my sorry ass out of bed and see if Nina has made breakfast. My stomach is making weird noises, clearly telling me it wants to be fed. Only, I still feel nauseous knowing that Brandon would have been with that leggy girl from the game, the way she was fawning all over him, made me want to slap her.

It's not like I'm not used to seeing girls throw themselves all over him. He is a jock after all, and the most popular guy in the school. If he had a dance card, the line would be all around Cali, that's how many girls want a piece of his cute ass. And trust me when I say it's cute because it's the best ass you've ever seen. Brandon's butt is high and tight from years of football, spending time in the gym, running and basically training almost non-stop between class and spending what time he can with me. He wants to be the best NFL player of all time. When Brandon puts his mind to something, he puts his mind to it.

I stretch my arms above my head, let my legs stretch in the opposite direction, then throw my duvet off me, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and drop my feet into my fluffy pink slippers. They feel cozy and comforting.

As I open my bedroom door, I can already smell breakfast wafting up the stairs. Great, Nina has been busy cooking away. I pad down the stairs, rubbing my sore eyes from lack of sleep, still wearing my pajama shorts and a t-shirt that used to belong to Brandon when we were about fifteen. Okay, so it's a bit tight now since I've filled out my breasts, but I love it. It's like having a warm blanket wrapped around you in the cooler months of Fall.

"Good morning, Miss Lizzie," Nina says with a broad smile on her warm and loving face. I love her; she's the best nanny, cook, and housekeeper in the world. She's like a second mom to me. If I had to choose a different mom, it would definitely be Nina. She's wearing her grey dress uniform with a starched white collar and cuffs on the short sleeves. Over which she has on her usual white pinny, edged with white lace. She reminds me of Jennifer Lopez from Maid in Manhattan, with her olive skin, dark hair tied in a smart bun at the base of her neck and large gold hooped earrings.

Nina comes from Mexico but has lived and worked here in the US for over fifteen years. She must be late forties, but to look at her, she could easily pass for an early JLO.

"Morning, Nina." I pull out a tall stool at the breakfast counter and sit my butt down, crossing my legs as she plates up for me and passes a stack of pancakes to me. I reach for the Maple syrup and pour lashings of it on the stack, add some blueberries, and begin to eat. "Mmm, this is divine," I tell her. I get another smile. Nina always smiles. I mean, like a lot.

"Will you want me to make you lunch today, or do you go out with friends?" She asks, busying herself at the sink with the Wedgewood cups and saucers that daren't go in the washing machine.

"Erm, not sure, Nina. Brandon's coming over at ten, and we'll decide then." Actually, I'm not feeling like going out to be honest. I spent most of yesterday out at the mall and then the football game, and I'm liking the idea of a home day curled up with my books in my large easy chair in dad's library. That's my library, I mean, since dad had it especially custom-made for me.

"I will make something then, if you want it, you can have it. I'll make a nice tuna salad and bake some fresh bread."

"Sounds delicious. Thanks, Nina." I continue to eat my breakfast and scroll through my mobile as I stuff food in my face. Jeez, I didn't realize just how hungry I was.

There's nothing going on in the WhatsApp group chat between Lilly, Denver, Tobias and Tammy. Brandon isn't on it, he took himself off it because he said he was getting fed up with the random chit chat about nothing but shit. He said that if there was anything important to bring him in on, it would be on a need-to-be-there basis. He's so full of himself sometimes, it makes me want to laugh out loud.

I scroll through TikTok, but nothing grabs me there either, the usual girls showing you how to do some random dance or apply makeup. It's like they've got nothing better to do, yet they get so many views it's staggering. Not as many as Brandon gets. He doesn't have time for WhatsApp chats, but he seems to have a lot of time for his TikTok page. Usually, videos or pictures of him at games, in practice, in his kit, and always when our team wins a game.

Then, like the one I'm looking at now, there are many vids of him with other girls. I stop eating my pancakes. The sickness comes back into my stomach as I watch that girl from yesterday sitting on his lap at the Maple Bar. The fucking bitch. I want to tear her hair off her head and scratch her eyes out.

She's all kissy-kissy with him, but I can see that Brandon looks bored. Yeah, bored. He doesn't seem interested in her trying to kiss him all the time. Why he didn't just knock the damn phone out of her hand is beyond me. At the end, he does manage a smile, but his eyes aren't looking into the camera; they're not even looking at her. It's one of Brandon's classic bored looks where he knows he needs to smile just enough for people not to think he's an arrogant prick but not enough to give away too much emotion about something he really doesn't give a shit about.

"Eat up, girl, you will waste away," Nina says and takes the mobile from me. It makes me smile. It hasn't been the first time I've had my phone confiscated. But what can I say? I'm your average teenager who is mildly addicted to social media.

My page is crammed with bookish content or sewing projects that I have been working on.

There's a knock at the door, and I glance up at the large, round wall kitchen clock. It's only half-nine. "I get it," Nina says, already marching away from the kitchen and down the hallway to the door.

"Hey, Nina. How you doin'?" Shit, fuck, damn. It's Brandon. My hair is still in a mess, it's the worst bed hair you've ever seen, and I am in my tiny shorts pajamas. Sure, Brandon has seen me like this on many occasions, only now I feel really self-conscious.

"Lizzie baby," he says in that silky voice of his that makes me turn to mush. Butterflies zing in my stomach, and my nipples go erect into little buds at the sound of him and, of course, the sight of him. His black jeans hug his toned legs and slender hips. They're slung low, and I can see between the gap of his black Versace tee and his waistband that small amount of flesh.

There's no missing that he has the sexiest v to his cock going on. My nipples strain against my flimsy tee and my tits feel tight. Good Lord. How fucking embarrassing. I watch as Brandon checks me out. I blush and get hot with anger for him looking at me that way, and for me getting so hotly turned on just by his voice and the way he looks. This is a fucked up situation.

"Pleased to see me?" His voice is mocking me.

"Oh shut the fuck up," I tell him and push my plate away. "I'm done, Nina, it was delicious. Thanks for cooking me breakfast." I grab my phone from the counter where Nina left it, stomp off towards the grand staircase, and huff all the way to the top. Very conscious that my best friend is right behind me, no doubt watching my ass. He's a guy after all, only it's all so damn wrong.

"You've got an assignment to finish, Brandon. I suggest you do that instead of taking the piss out of me." I am mad as hell at him, and it's not even ten o'clock yet.

"Yeah, baby. Don't worry. Get your fine ass in the shower, and I'll crack on with it."

"

Stop with the baby business. You're such a jerk. I saw that dumb TikTok video." Now I'm searing with jealousy as I think about that bitch kissing him yesterday. Her of the pushed up tits and fake smile just wanting a piece of Brandon's ass. I bet if he had braces and wasn't the best player in the school, she'd not even glance twice at him.

"Don't be like that. She was just a girl I met. Ignore it," he says as we enter my room and Brandon throws himself on my bed with his head resting on his arms behind his head and his long, very long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles.

My panties are wet, and I am mortified. MORTIFIED. How am I going to get through growing up with the worst crush on my bestie?

HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO IT?