A Friend Like Me

I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll Be There For You - The Rembrandts

Joe and I stood at the entrance of the diner, shivering.

We were so soaked, it looked like we both jumped into a swimming pool. I had already even wrung out the ends of my shirt and hair.

“All the pay phones are down because of the storm,” the waitress in formed us. “You can sit yourself,” she added quickly, going off to get the order of another customer.

I groaned, giving Joe an icy look. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault?” Joe repeated. “You're the one who was speeding!”

“You were distracting me.”

“Whatever, Ava. I'm gonna be alone for a while – to the bathroom.”

I rolled my eyes and headed to the bar to get a Coke.

“Hey sexy,” slurred a tan, dark-haired man sitting at the bar. “Lemme buy you something to drink.”

I stepped away from him. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Vodka over here!” yelled Drunk Man.

“No,” I protested. “I'll just have a coke and I'll pay for it myself.” I stepped to the side to get farther away from him, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

“Come on,” he said in my ear. “Just a little drink.”

I tried to pry his hand away from me, my heart racing. “No! Let go of me.”

His hand was starting to push away the wet material of my shirt as my eyes widened. “Wanna head to my place?”

I tried harder to tear his strong grip away from me, digging my nails into his skin and trying to bend back his fingers.

Except this guy is probably some evil version of Superman, because his grip didn't even loosen.

“No!” I cried.

“Let's go, then!” the guy said, and started to drag me towards the exit. “I'm Ace, by the way. I want to hear you scream it when you – ”

“She said 'no.'”

I looked back and saw Joe, his hand clenched in a fist, the veins in his arms protruding slightly.

Ace was distracted, his grip loosening for a second. I took the chance to get out of his grip and stood next to Joe, who stepped in front of me.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” Ace asked, glaring at Joe.

To my surprise, Joe put an arm around me, hugging me close to his body. “Yeah,” Joe said boldly, “I am.”

And that answer practically lit up my day.

He squeezed me softly, sending chills all over my body.

Ace squinted at Joe. “Hey,” he said, “now I know you. You're in that fag band.” To me, he added, “Ditch this guy. He's not really your boyfriend, is he?”

Joe's grip tightened around me. “Hey, back off, she's mine. Go…just go and leave us alone, okay?”

With that, Joe lead me away with him, his arm still around my waist. He walked us to a booth.

“Thanks,” I whispered and without really planning it, I pressed my lips to Joe's cheek.

I sat down at one side of the booth, Joe still standing there. He was still for a second, off in his own thoughts. He snapped out of it just as quickly, though.

“It's no problem,” Joe said quickly, blushing, his lips curled in a slight, dazed smile. “It's what friends do.” Adding in a concerned voice, “Are you okay, though?”

I nodded in response, looking for the menu and still craving that stupid Coke I went over to the bar for in the first place.

“Why did you even go to the bar?” Joe asked.

“I was thirsty,” I explained. “I wanted a Coke. Why'd you pretend you're my boyfriend?”

Joe turned redder. “Well, it was to get that guy to leave you alone. And…you know.”

By the way his eyes avoided mine, I guessed that there was more.

“And?” I urged.

“And…uh…hey, what do you think, though?” Joe asked.

“It was nice of you?” I said, confused.

Joe shook his head. “No – I meant, what do you think if we – became a couple?”

Wait, what? What's he getting at? Why is it that I can never be sure he returns my feelings, anyway?

Joe raked his hair back, slumping a little in his seat, reminding me of his Lines, Vines, and Trying Times shoot, especially that photo of him in the diner.

Except that he was soaking wet, his clothes sticking to his defined body.

“You cold?” Joe asked, shrugging off his coat to reveal a black leather jacket underneath. He peeled that off too, displaying his white shirt.

Which, in case you've forgotten (I know I haven't), is see-through.

And was currently taking away my breath, by the way it clung to him, showing off his torso. The shirt did nothing to conceal every detail of Joe's chest, from the little moles to the chest hairs.

Curse him for wearing such a flimsy shirt.

And I also couldn't help but notice that Joe was also shivering.

“You're cold,” I pointed out. “You know what, keep your jacket. I'm good with this. Besides, it's my fault for wearing a cotton cardigan."

Ignoring me, Joe walked over to my side of the booth and placed his jacket around me.

“Joe,” I protested, pulling it off and handing it back to him. “I don't want you to catch hypothermia.”

“Well, I don't want you to, either,” Joe said, pushing the jacket back towards me. When I didn't accept it, he gave up. “You know what? We'll just keep each other warm.”

Joe sat down next to me and pulled my body against his. He wrapped his arm around me, holding me closer to him than ever before, sending all kinds of sensations through me.

Not to mention I was feeling really nice and warm now, thanks to him. Even though he was wet, there was this warmth that was radiating from him.

It's really nice.

“So?” Joe asked softly. “What do you think would happen if we started dating?”

What did I think? Huh. Well, if it means more snuggle sessions like this, then I'm game.

What? I can't help it thinking things like that, especially if he's going to be this close.

“Well,” I said slowly. “I think that if we dated, it'd be sort of…disastrous. I mean, we can't even decide on who's going to wear your jacket. We can't go for a day without arguing about something. It could be the greatest thing to ever happen to the both of us. We could discover that we belong with each other. But we're too different. Opposites don't really attract.”

“Yeah they do,” Joe said.

“We have too many differences. I mean, if we listed them all out, we could be sort of, like, freaked out by how different we are.”

“I digress.”

“Disagree.”

“They're the same thing!”

“No. Digressing is to move away from your point. Disagreeing is…well, you know what disagreeing is. Or at least I hope you do.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, what do you think, then?”

“About what would happen if we became a couple?”

I laughed. “No, Joe, about George W. Bush.”

“What?”

“Yes, I was asking you what you thought would happen if we became a couple!”

Joe took his arm away (alas) and scratched the back of his neck. “Oh. Well, I think that we'd be…you know. Yeah. I think…I think that you're wrong. If we're still this close after seventeen years, then that must mean our differences aren't that great or it – like – brings us closer, if you know what I mean.”

“Really.”

Joe grinned, placing his arm around my shoulders. “Yup. And I think my reasoning wins because it's more positive.”

“No, mine does because it's more realistic. Besides, how do we know it'll last? If it ends badly, our friendship could be lost.”

“I'm pretty sure it won't.”

“Can I have your order?” the waitress (seriously, where has she been this whole time?) asked us.

Joe withdrew his arm, pretending that we weren't sharing body warmth. “Uh, yeah. I'll have Sprite and a cheeseburger.”

“Coke,” I said, “and spaghetti.”

“That was on here?!” exclaimed Joe, flipping the menu over.

“You can go on the other side of the table now,” I said, hoping he'd protest and say that, no, he'd rather cuddle with me until our food arrives.

“Fine,” Joe said, leaving me, but not before placing his jacket around my shoulders. “Keep that on. I'm not cold.”

Smiling, I rolled my eyes and peeled my wet cardigan. I pulled on Joe's jacket. I noticed his eyes were cast downward on the table.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“Why did you go out with Connor?” he wanted to know.

I shrugged. “I don't know. I was feeling alone, since you guys left for L.A., and he asked me. So I said yes.” I added, “Why'd you go with Demi again?”

Joe avoid looking into my eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Joe.”

“Okay, because I have mixed feelings!” he said, running his hand through his hair. “It's just that, I've started to notice the way she smiles and – I can't get it her smile out of my mind. And I've started to love every little detail about her, like the way she gets passionate about something and the way her eyes sort of spark. I love the way she's stuck with me through everything.”

I wish he'd talk about me like that. Especially because I've stuck with him through everything, but no. In Joeland, Demi's the girl who's stayed loyal to you, not Ava, even though Ava's been with you for seventeen years and Demi's been with you for only two years.

Yawning, Joe stretched, his biceps flexing. My eyes drifted down again towards his torso and muscular arms.

“What?” Joe asked, a cocky smile on his lips.

I forced myself to raise my eyes from his muscles to his face (which, you know, isn't really a downgrade. But still). “Your shirt is see-through,” I commented.

Joe's smile grew more arrogant (which I didn't really know was possible). “You like?”

And he flexed his muscles some more, causing my heart to skip three beats.

I swatted him with the back of my hand, hitting his wet arm, laughing. “Stop!”

Joe grabbed my hand and looked at me in mock surprise. “Ava!” He put my hand over his heart, which was beating as rapidly as mine. “Keep your hands to yourself! We have purity rings!”

“Joe!” I hissed, laughing. “People are staring! Let go of my hand.”

Joe laughed harder. “You should see the look on your face right now. And there's nobody here but that drunk guy who's sleeping.” With his free hand, he pointed to Ace, who was out cold.

“Joseph, seriously. We're in public and – you're being really weird right now, even for you.”

“Want me to start singing?”

“No. Don't sing.”

“What should I sing?”

“Nothing. Let go.”

“Want me to sing something from Aladdin?”

“No.”

“I can show you the world!”

“Shut up!”

“Shining, shimmering, splendid!”

“How do you even know the words?”

Joe finally dropped my hand and stopped singing, beaming. “Because you always make me watch Aladdin with you.”

“Hey, you made me watch Barney with you way too many times, too.”

“Yeah, when we were children. You still get me to watch Aladdin with you.”

“Because it's awesome.”

Joe's eyes suddenly lit up the way they did when he got an idea.

“What's your idea this time?” I asked wearily.

See, every time we go along with one of Joe's ideas, we end up in some sort of dilemma. For example, there was that one time he decided to save money on Halloween by giving away the “candy that was in the cabinet on top of the sink.” It was aspirin.

“You should come to Europe with us!” Joe said excitedly.

Ohoho. I knew it.

Anyway, for something that is important, where's my Coke? I'm thirsty here!

I shook my head. “I can't. I have classes.”

“That didn't stop you from hopping on the fastest plane bound for Detroit the moment you heard Camilla broke up with me.”

See, before the Detroit show started, Kevin called me, saying that Joe was off somewhere backstage, isolating himself from everyone else. I realized that something must have happened between him and Camilla, so I bought a ticket to the next flight going to Detroit. Luckily, there was one that night and I arrived at the arena before the show started.

It's a good thing those shows are three hours long.

I knocked on his dressing room door. No answer. I tried opening it, but it was locked.

“Joe!” I bellowed. “If you don't let me in, I'm gonna get Big Rob to kick the door open.”

The door opened in a second. I walked in.

“Ava?” Joe asked, using one of the softest voices I've ever heard him use, his cheeks streaked with tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Being here for you,” I said. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

“Av,” he said after a while of just crying into my shoulder. “Why is it that I can't ever keep any girl?”

“That's not true,” I replied. “I've always been there for you…and I always will be.”

“That was because it was summer,” I reminded him. “The only way I'd be able to go with you is if you, by some impossible feat, convinced my dean to let me take my classes online or something.”

“I bet you I can do that,” Joe said defiantly. “Here. If I can convince your dean, you'll come to Europe with us.” He held out his pinky.

“Fine,” I said coolly, not bothering to tell him that his idea was impossible. “But if you don't convince him, you'll have to leave James and me alone. That means, you'll have to be okay with us and not be all angry with him.”

“Fine.”

Our pinkies intertwined, locking us in a pinky promise.