More than Friends - Monica Murphy by Monica Murphy Page A

anyone.” I start walking and she follows. “So, um, did you talk to Livvy? About me?”
    I’m surprised she’s asking. She’s not one for forthright and truthful. “We talked about you on…Wednesday, I think it was? Maybe Thursday.”
    “Oh.” Her face falls. “I haven’t heard from her.”
    “Give her time. She’s trying to work up the courage to reach out to you.” I don’t know if that’s the case. It sounds bogus, especially because Livvy’s been on lockdown for the last week. Her mom relented and let her go to the homecoming game, but she wouldn’t let Livvy go to the dance, which crushed her.
    But she got her phone back this morning and all restrictions are lifted, so hopefully she’ll be in a better mood. Girl was grouchy this weekend.
    “I thought she was just busy with Ryan,” Em mutters under her breath. Her expression brightens when she catches me looking at her. “I went to the dance and Livvy wasn’t there. Neither were you.”
    “I was working. Liv was grounded.”
    “Oh.” Em’s cheeks color and I hope she’s remembering that she was the reason Livvy was grounded. She ratted Liv out to her mother that we were staying the night at Ryan’s house the weekend of his birthday party, unsupervised. When Livvy’s mom showed up to take her home, I wanted to die. All I could think about was my mom or dad finding me like that—a disheveled mess after sleeping in the same bed with Jordan and wearing only his T-shirt.
    My skin warms at the memory.
    “Tuttle didn’t even have his homecoming after party. It was so weird.” Em sends me a look. “Were you two together or what?”
    “We weren’t together.” I shake my head. “I know nothing about a party.”
    “I figured you and Tuttle might’ve become the party,” Em says, grinning. “Or had your own intimate party.”
    “Ha. Funny,” I say with full on sarcasm as I slow to a stop in front of my homeroom door. Em stops with me. “Listen, you have a lot to make up for too, you know. You’ve done some shitty things, and Liv’s hurt. I know she’s done some awful things too, but the both of you can’t go on damaging each other like this.”
    Em scowls, clearly irritated. “Who died and made you peacemaker?”
    I roll my eyes and start to head into my class. I don’t need to put up with this.
    Em chases me inside, coming to a halt directly in front of Cannon Whittaker’s desk. “Oh. Hey.”
    “Hey.” He hardly looks at her. The best linebacker at our school, Cannon is a huge guy who barely fits behind the desk he’s currently sitting in. He has a player reputation like all the other guys on the football team, but he’s never been anything but nice to me. Not that we’re in a lot of classes together or that he’s ever shown any interest, but still.
    “Well.” Em turns, flashing me a bright, almost manic smile. Her eyes are wide and unblinking and I wonder at the quick transformation. “Thanks for the advice, Amanda. You’re such a big help, as always.” She wags her fingers in Cannon’s direction. “Bye,” she says before she runs out of my homeroom.
    My gaze meets Cannon’s. “Are you guys friends?”
    He snorts and shakes his head. “No.” His cheeks go red. So does his neck.
    Hmmm.
    The day drags. I blame it on being a Monday. There’s a pop quiz in my government class, but I think I mostly ace it. Lunch turns into a nightmare. An unexpected heat wave has made people cranky—myself included—and all the seniors decide to grab food off campus. I planned on getting something quick at a drive thru somewhere by myself but decide I don’t want to deal with the traffic jam headache.
    I’m making my way out of the parking lot when Jordan Tuttle’s Range Rover pulls up alongside me. The tinted window rolls down, revealing there’s no one else in the car.
    Just Jordan.
    “Where you going?” He’s wearing sunglasses, but he shoves them on top of his head so I can see those pretty eyes of his.
    “Back to the