Bitter End by Jennifer Brown

horses,” I suggested.
    “You can ride a horse in Dec—dammit!”
    “Take that, Zackhole!” Bethany screeched.
    “Take that, Zackhole,” Zack mimicked. “Bethroom,” he said, pulling out his old elementary school nickname for her. This conversation
     was only going downhill, and I started to get annoyed. I’d missed a date for this?
    “Zackass!” Bethany retorted.
    “What about bike riding?” I said irritably, but they kept arguing, as if I wasn’t even in the room with them.
    “Cowboy Ugly!”
    I tried again. “I think you can mountain-bike down Pike’s Peak.”
    “Zackwad!”
    “You guys,” I said, but they kept horsing around. “You guys,” I said again. Someone’s controller cord knocked a taco off the
     table onto the floor by my head. “Stop it! God!” I shouted.
    The couch went still.
    “I’m trying to actually be productive,” I said, my tone sharp. I could feel my pulse in my forehead. “You’re acting like little
     kids!”
    There was a beat of silence—the only thing I could hear was the ominous video game background music—and then suddenly both
     Zack and Bethany cracked up.
    “She’s right,” Bethany said. “You’re acting like a real Zack-off!” She burst into giggles, and there was more jostling.
    The doorbell rang, and I struggled to get upright so I could answer it. But I’d been upside down too long, and Zack was too
     quick. He tossed his controller into Bethany’s lap and leaped so he was sitting on my stomach, facing the back of the couch,
     where my feet were.
    “Little kid, huh? I’ll show you little kid.” He wrapped his arm around my calves, locking my feet into place, and started
     tickling them, which he knew I hated more than anything in the world.
    “Stop!” I squealed and laughed, pounding on his back,trying to pull my feet out of his grasp. All hell broke loose on the couch as Bethany came to my aid, lunging into Zack’s
     side over and over again, trying to knock him off me. I writhed, laughing until I could see spots in front of my eyes, like
     I was going to pass out, and continued smacking his back. I couldn’t breathe.
    Zack ate it up, just like Zack always did. If I said, “Don’t. Stop,” he would say, “Don’t stop? Well, if you insist…” If I
     begged, “Get off,” he would respond, “Well, I’ll try, but I really just think of you as a friend, Alex.”
    He was impossible, but at least I wasn’t mad anymore.
    Celia stomped in from the kitchen, chewing. “There’s someone at the door,” she said accusingly.
    “I can’t get up,” I said, between laughs. “This idiot is on top of me!” I banged on his back like I was banging on a door.
     Celia rolled her eyes at me and reached for the doorknob.
    “Idiot, huh?” Zack said, and started tickling me again, sending me into a new gale of laughter and squeals.
    I didn’t see who had come through the door until Zack stopped abruptly. I pounded on his back with the flat of my hand a few
     more times and then opened my eyes. Cole was standing just inside the front door, peering at us over the couch. He had his
     hands pushed down in his jeans pockets, his shoulders slumped.
    I felt even more blood rush to my face, and all of a sudden the room got very serious. I planted both palms on Zack’s back
     and pushed. “Get. Up,” I said through clenched teeth.
    He raised himself up so he was kneeling on the couchcushion and I
thunk
ed, headfirst, onto the floor, my legs slithering out from under Zack as I tried to right myself, pulling my shirt down and
     smoothing my hair with my hands. Bethany was still on her knees at Zack’s side. She snickered and shoved him with her shoulder.
    “Hey,” I said, ignoring the head rush I was getting from being upright. I walked around the couch. “I wasn’t expecting you.
     We were trip-planning.” Even as I said it, I knew how it sounded. Of course we weren’t trip-planning. That much Cole could
     see with his own eyes.
    “No problem,”