Chapter Seven
Jules
As easy as it was talking to Holly on the coach, this is a whole new playing field. The moment Layla said it was a date, everything changed. Na?ve Jules - two guys, two girls, duh.
Zander and I caught the bus into town, where we waited for a good fifteen minutes for our friends to arrive.
They turned up just in time, surrounded by a cloud of cheap perfume and hairspray.
Layla instantly wrapped her arms around Zander’s, shuffling alongside him in her heels and mini-skirt, as they turned to head inside the cinema.
They look good together, there’s no denying it.
The thought makes me feel uncomfortable, though.
If Zander gets with Layla, what will happen to us?
Will he spend all of his free time with her?
Will I go back to spending Tuesdays and Fridays alone?
I heard that’s what happens when girlfriends come on the scene.
There’s a saying that I’ve heard some of the girls at school say…
‘chicks before dicks’ or something like that.
It looks like this could be the end. Zander’s dark hair and broad frame are in stark contrast to Layla’s fairer curls and short stature; they fit the typical ‘bad boy/popular girl’ stereotype.
The thought makes me chuckle. Zander is far from the brooding type– the guy still likes to play Pokémon on the weekends.
“Hey,” Holly’s voice draws my attention back from the pair and my brooding.
I had forgotten she was even there for a second; he’s always had this way of invading all of my thoughts and stealing my attention.
A shy smile decorates her face as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Holly is… Nice. She seems like the kind of girl every Mom would love for her son to bring home.
Her kind face and warm eyes are welcoming, and suddenly, I forget why I was so nervous.
Maybe if things start to get serious between Zander and Layla, Holly and I could give it a shot, too.
At least that way we both get to keep our friends. Win-win.
“Hey, are you looking forward to the film?” We walk side by side into the foyer, a few steps behind Zander and Layla– who, by the way, will not stop touching every available inch of him.
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for so long to see it, but I’ve never had anyone to go with. Layla only agreed because Zander would be here,” her voice is tinged with disdain at her friend’s shameless motives.
“Yeah, he kind of has that effect on people,” I laugh softly, trying to make light of the situation. “What’s your snack of choice?”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to–”
“Holly, just tell me what you like so I can beat Layla in the friendship department.” She smirks and shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest. Her cheeks look like little cherries when she smiles; all plump and red.
“Umm, I like nachos…”
“Ohhh, you’re one of those…”
“What do you mean?!” Her hand lands on my arm in a playful slap, but she doesn’t remove it. Instead, she wraps her fingers lightly around my bicep and looks up at me, waiting for my reply. Placing my hand over the top of hers and making a show of looking around for privacy, I lean in close–
“The ever elusive cruncher… Most people think they’re a thing of make-believe, along with the packet-rustlers, but it looks like I have proof now– SECURITY!
” Holly shoves me away playfully and tries to cover my mouth with her hand.
We both fall into fits of laughter as the confectionery queue gets shorter.
“What can I get for you?” The attendant asks.
Glancing at Holly, I watch as she bites her lip in an effort not to laugh.
I can do this. Talking with new people has always been difficult, but with Holly, it doesn't seem so bad.
Maybe it's because we have similar interests: anime, comic books, and a growing irritation with Layla and her over-the-top display of affection toward Zander.
I tell myself that speaking to the cinema attendant is the reason my skin heats and palms sweat.
I always worry that I'll say the wrong thing or say too much. Swallowing past the unease, I reply–
“Nacho’s for the crazy one here, and a regular salted popcorn, please.” Holly’s head whips around to me, her mouth wide open in shock.
“And you say I’m the crazy one?! Who even likes salted popcorn?” I can’t help the grin that spreads wide across my face as we take our goodies and head toward the screen.
The name of the movie should have given it away, I suppose, but I’m sandwiched in between Zander and Holly, with no chance of a stealthy escape. I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to avoid the inevitable jump scare the music is building towards, when warm air tickles the side of my face.
“You okay there?” Zander whispers, leaning in close. I can smell the spice of his aftershave, and the wax he ran through his hair, as well as the sickly-sweet remnants of Layla’s perfume, as his chest presses against my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?” A shiver runs through my body at the teasing lilt in his voice.
“Yeah, Zan. I’m fi–Oh fuck!” My body betrays me as the music pitches and erupts.
The screen fills with the most grotesque image, and my hands grab onto whatever they can reach.
Something immediately clamps down around my wrist; it’s tight and unforgiving, increasing the pounding of my heart.
Scanning the space between mine and Zander’s seat proves to be pointless; it’s too dark.
I tug once… twice… But the pressure increases, making my fingers tingle.
An uncomfortable yet familiar feeling washes over me, the same one I get whenever I’m met with the dark, wide eyes belonging to my best friend.
His complexion looks pale against the darkness of the room, and his lips are pressed together in a flat line.
He looks furious and panicked, reminding me of a cornered wild animal.
Finally, the pressure on my wrist starts to ease as the visibility increases.
The sudden light flooding the room displays my fist clenching the side of Zander's thigh, and his hand encasing my lower arm.
His gaze never falters, even as I uncurl my fingers and start to withdraw my hand.
My throat works a dry and rough swallow, and the world around us seems to disappear when his thumb draws light circles over my wrist. The noise from the sound system is now a distant hum, the people around us blurring and fading.
He’s all I can see. All I can feel. And everything my body is screaming, I need to hold on to. He’s always been my best friend, my protector, but in this moment, he’s morphed into something new and unfamiliar.
“I can’t believe you enjoyed that, Holly,” Layla whines from in front. She’s done nothing but moan the entire journey home about the movie. “You’re not picking the next one.” Next one?
“I actually thought it was pretty good,” Zander pipes up, shooting Holly a quick wink over Layla’s head. There he is, the protector.
“Well– w-what I meant was, it could have been better. I suppose it wasn’t a total write off.
” I watch as she shuffles closer to Zander, pasting an innocent look on her face as she presses herself against his side, boobs and all.
“I just wish you had warned me how scary it was…” Her bottom lip juts out, and her eyes widen. Is he really gonna fall for this?
I probably shouldn’t be watching their interactions, but morbid curiosity takes over. It kinda reminds me of a David Attenborough documentary– the ‘mating’ specials.
“Ahh, come on, don’t be a wuss,” Zander dismisses her behaviour with one simple line. I almost feel bad for her; it’s not like him to be so abrupt with people. The empathy leaves as fast as it came when she pushes her hand into his, weaving their fingers together.
I don’t miss the way Zander’s eyes flick down, nor do I miss the way his body slumps, defeated and resigned against the seat as their hands lie limp between them.
His gaze shoots up to meet mine, like we’re both thinking the same thing, only I’m sure we’re not.
He looks at me almost questioningly, like he’s asking if I’m ok with Layla wrapping her hand around his.
Spoiler– it's a hard no, but I don’t know why it's annoying me, which means there’s nothing I can do other than look away.
Aside from my Mom, Zander is the only other person to ever hold my hand, and I kind of like it that way.
It’s been a long time since we had that kind of contact, but I can still remember.
I recall the way his skin felt soft and pillowy whenever I squeezed, and how his fingers would randomly twitch and spasm against my own.
Holding hands with Zander was like completing a circuit– neither of us lighting up until we were joined.
The bus stops at the end of my road, and we all pile off. Holly lives a few rows behind, so we start saying our goodbyes.
“Maybe we can do it again, sometime? There’s another remake releasing in a few weeks…” She glances over at Layla before adding, “Maybe it could be just the two of us.”
Do I say yes? No? All I know is the thought of going anywhere without Zander doesn’t appeal in the slightest, but I can’t bring myself to knock her confidence by saying so.
“Yeah, sounds good. Until next time, then?” My brain short-circuits as my hand shoots out between us. A handshake, Jules?
“Umm, yeah. Next time.” Holly gently places her hand in mine, it’s small and delicate and feels all wrong against mine as we stand frozen to the spot. It’s by far the most awkward few seconds of my life.
“So, do I get a kiss goodnight?” Layla’s voice drifts through the tension as I step back from Holly.
Zander doesn’t reply, at least, not with his voice.
I can’t look away as he takes a step closer, and closer, not stopping until the tips of their shoes are touching and their chests push against each other with each breath.
My eyes focus on every subtle shift of his body– how his hand slowly reaches up and cups the side of her face, how his nose slides against the side of hers, before their lips eventually meet.
I hear Holly faintly clearing her throat beside me, but I can’t pull myself out of the trance I’ve fallen into– watching as Zander’s jaw tenses with every move of his mouth, how his lips stick to hers, before pressing harder each time they reconnect.
He keeps a firm grip on her face, his thumb gently stroking against her cheekbone, reminding me of how it felt against my pulse back in the cinema only an hour ago.
My face is growing hotter and hotter the longer I watch.
It doesn’t feel like a rational response, but when it comes to Zander, my jealousy knows no limits.
I’m selfish with him. I crave his time and his presence just as badly as I crave the air around him.
It hasn’t been as prevalent until this moment.
The disruption to our little bubble has only just started, yet it feels like I'm standing in the ruins already.
“I gotta go…” Zander says into her mouth as she leans forward for more.
“Just one more…” She pushes forward again.
“Lay–”
“Alrightttt, come on, before we’re locked out,” Holly interrupts, physically dragging Layla by the arm. I know I shouldn’t, but part of me wants to thank her for putting an end to it.
“Text me!” She hollers from halfway down the street. Zander just smirks and rubs his swollen lips with his thumb. He doesn’t say anything; he just walks in silence, his mood seeming to decline further with every rub of his lips. Is he trying to rub off her kiss?
“I thought she was gonna swallow you for a second there.” It’s meant to be a joke, but I recognise it for what it truly is– ugly and spiteful. I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth, yet another thing to add to the list of unfamiliars tonight.
When we got back to my house, I left Zander to fill Mom in on all the details.
I could hear him from the bathroom telling her all about the film, what snacks we all chose, and how I practically wet myself at the jump scare.
What he left out, however, was the way his body reacted to mine; the unsettling yet hypnotising stare down, the way his thumb caressed my wrist, and how he didn’t let go, even when my heart had settled back into its regular rhythm.
I don’t wait for him to come to bed. Instead, I get changed, flick off the lights, and bury myself under the blanket.
Half an hour passes by before I hear the creaking of the door, although it feels longer.
Being alone with my conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions seemed to slow time.
But I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to look at him without thinking about the way he kissed Layla.
I don’t know how to stop my face from showing him how it made me feel.
And I certainly don’t trust my heart not to recognise him as anything other than what he’s always been; my best friend.