Tea Leaves Don't Lie

The dream of millions of girls is rather simple: to have a guy best friend. Said friend is preferably attractive and sweet with a great sense of humor and a whole lot of patience. He should have the ability to understand her completely, and they’re to meet in their early childhood so that by the time they’re teenagers, they’d know each other as well as the back of their own hands. The possibilities of them falling in love should be endless.

I guess this was both our mom’s plans back when we were in preschool, building blocks and coloring animals together even if we didn’t know each other’s names. He sat down next to me on the mats during our first day of classes, and he claims up to this day that it’s because I smelled of PB&J.

As a girl whose best friend is a boy, I can assure you that you’d rather be in your own shoes than in mine. Because while Andrew Shane Cooper is sweet, smart, funny, and attractive as hell, he’s as good as untouchable to me right now.

I’d like to give a special shout out to my mother for making my life utterly miserable.



“Boo!”

I jump up at the sudden exclamation, the nerves building up in my stomach contributing to my jittery state. I’ve been attending the same school forever, but first days always seem to make me nervous. It’s agonizing.

Drew’s grinning by the time I’ve recovered, and I punch him on the arm. “You suck.”

He’s standing next to my locker, and he made it a point to exclaim only as I slammed my door shut because he was previously obstructed from my view. He casually slings an arm around me as we walk towards our homeroom, and I snuggle into him.

We’ve known most of the students milling around us our whole lives, so they know us both well enough not to tease us for anything. To any other person who doesn’t know our background, we probably look like a couple. But oh, how I wish it were that simple.

On the outside, I’m your typical half-Asian chick with the dark hair and brown eyes that tilt up towards the end. I’m in my casual ensemble, wearing a denim jacket over a floral top and dark skinny jeans. My hair’s partly braided and knotted up near the top of my head, and while I daresay that I look stylish, my insides don’t even come close. I’m so messed up within that I feel the need to make up for it with my outermost appearance.

How else would I be able to match up to Drew?

He literally looks like he was ripped out of an Abercrombie ad; he even comes with the hair.

To put it simply: half of the guys I know roll out of their beds, brush their teeth, apply deodorant, and immediately drive off to school in the morning. But Drew? He’ll never leave his house without showering, and his clothes always smell like the sweet peppermint laundry detergent his mom uses.

In this case, it’s no wonder why the new freshmen from Rosemont are ogling over him. But then I catch a sophomore I’ve noticed in the halls since middle school freeze as we pass by her, and I almost roll my eyes.

I get why the freshmen are falling for Drew, I really do, but other students who actually know us?

God, it’s been two years.

Why can’t they all just take a break and accept that he’s never going to be into them?

I’ve already accepted it, and they better start to before I go on rambling about how if my fantasies about him are never coming true, theirs never will, either.

Well, unless their pertains to an attractive guy.

You see, Drew’s been out of the closet for two years now.

He told me when we were in eighth grade, when I caught him staring at this cute waiter at Pizza Hut. I remarked that the waiter was cute and without hesitation, he agreed.

Sure, at first I thought it was all a big joke, but it hit me soon enough that his April Fool’s prank was five months late. I ended up ignoring him for a whole day. It wasn’t because he repulsed me or some homophobic shit like that, no.

It was because I was heartbroken.

All my life, I’ve had this huge crush on him. And what hurts the most is that I’m not even sure if it just stops at ‘like.’ I know being seventeen accounts for ‘you’re too young to know love’ and some other wisdom crap my parents tell me, but with Drew it’s just so real that it can’t not be something more.

So yes, I was a bitch that day and ignored him for the twenty-four hours he needed somebody to talk to, to reassure him that he wasn’t crazy, and to tell him that they’ll be there for him always. To make up for it, I said those things the next evening when I appeared on his doorstep with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked in hand; just like that we were back together as best friends.

Besides, he forgave me right away. He bought my lame excuse of needing time away to accept it, when in reality all I did was ponder over what could’ve made him that way. For a few horrifying moments I blamed myself and thought that I turned him off so badly that he found the whole female population unattractive in general, but I pieced it together and realized, with the same horror: he’s the only boy in a family filled with girls.

Entering his room that same night, surrounded by his lacrosse medals, a few posters of musicians like The Killers, and a flag of Denmark, it hit me like a brick wall. Since his room looked so normal and since he still talked the same, it meant that nothing between us could ever actually change.

That’s why I endure the pain of still hanging out with him. Because while his friendship is the death of me, he needs me as much as I need him. This relationship we have is too much to lose.

So after he explained to me that he never really knew he was into guys until two months before and that nothing between us should ever change because of it, we made a game plan.

We spent the next year dodging bullets, trying our hardest not to cringe whenever his relatives teased us for being perfect for each other during the Thanksgiving dinner my family’s always invited to. I honestly don’t think he was ever planning on coming out of the closet, but Cody McLaren, a junior when we were freshmen, asked him to prom during lunchtime once. I choked on my chicken sandwich and stared at Drew in distress as he replied with a yes.

If it weren’t for Cody, the lacrosse team captain and the nicest gay guy around, I could’ve pretended to be Drew’s girlfriend for all my high school like we’d originally planned. This heartbreaking thought was in my head for the next week that I never actually comprehended the look people were giving me and Drew as we passed the halls.

For some reason, everyone seemed okay with it.

Even his family accepted it, and his dad’s reaction, the one he feared the most, was the most pleasant surprise ever. As soon as we walked through his threshold that day, he called out to no one in particular, “I was asked to prom today – by Cody, the lacrosse team captain. I said yes.” Marissa, his older sister in Cody’s year, was the only one to not come down and hug him. We learned soon enough that she had a ridiculous crush on the guy, but she loved Drew either way.

I know I should be happy for him that he came out of the closet in a way far from embarrassing (and a way that made him hotter than he had ever been in my whole life), but the pit in my stomach felt so empty that I almost cried in the girl’s restroom after lunch and was sent to stay in the clinic for my subjects afterwards.

I’ve grown so much since freshman year, and I’m glad to say that even if I’m not over him, I’ve accepted that what I want will never happen. It’s a great start to the school year.

“My mom read my leaves today,” Drew tells me as we trudge up the stairs together. I raise a brow at him, beckoning him to go on. Mrs. Cooper doesn’t read tealeaves for a living, but my mom does during her free time at work. Since they’re close friends, mom taught her for free.

I never let mom read my leaves or tell me about them when she does read them, but unlike me, Drew finds it mildly fascinating. He sighs as we stop in front of our class door, taking his warmth off my shoulders. “She senses dread and some other thing,” he grumbles, sounding resigned.

Absentmindedly, I drag my eyes over his body. His usual button-down is folded ‘till his elbows, but the first two buttons are undone and the rest aren’t even aligned properly, leaving the shirt askew on his frame. It shouldn’t be possible that a guy could pull it off, but he does.

Suddenly realizing what I’m doing, I look up to meet his eyes with my cheeks aflame. I almost sigh in relief as I see that he’s staring at his shoes. “Probably a dreaded chem teacher,” I airily say. “If we get Mr. Archibald, I swear I’ll lose it.”

My statement seems to do the trick because he looks up and grins at me. “Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I even let the leaves get to me. I never let them.”

I shrug in response as I take a step towards him to fix his shirt, but thankfully half of my mind comprehends that I most likely won’t survive with my hands hovering over his chest. I’ll be dead on the floor before I can undo the first button. So instead, I tiptoe to whisper into his ear, “Paranoia, my friend. Welcome to my life.”

Drew claps hands with a few other guys on the lacrosse team while I make small talk with a few other girls about summer as soon as we’re inside the classroom. Turns out, this guy who was with this girl during the two previous years of our high school cheated on her and now she’s moved away to Canada. It sounds like a totally over exaggerated soap opera, but I keep my mouth shut. As soon as we see Brittany walk in here and that Jeremy’s teeth are still intact, the rumors will die down for sure.

But three minutes later, Jeremy walks into the classroom and Dave Hodgman shouts, “Reveal the fang!” to which Jeremy replies with by grinning, showing off a silver incisor.

As much as I don’t want to be bitter, I am. I thought for sure that I was going to say ‘I told you so,’ to Sienna Goodricke again for the millionth time, but instead she says the same statement to me for the first. It doesn’t make any more sense a minute later when Mrs. Fridges, our homeroom teacher, walks in. There’s still no sign of Brittany, and it makes me superfluously angry with her.

Brittany Meads may not be my best friend, but being her seatmate for the past couple of years built this connection between us. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised because it’s not like we’re that close, but a warning would’ve been nice! I’m actually more sad than mad. We know each other’s secrets, yet other people heard about her moving away before I did?

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes in the process. No. It doesn’t make any sense. Brittany will tell me if she suddenly moves away, right? But then again, Brittany never misses class or comes in late. I open my eyes and immediately stand up, glancing at my watch as I make my way towards the back of the classroom. I’ve got three minutes to get this over with.

“What happened to Britt?” I rest my palms on Mike’s desk, eyeing him closely. Mike is Britt’s own best friend: her next-door neighbor and unfortunately the one suffering in the unrequited end of their friendship. The only reason I’m able to make conversation with him is because we have so much in common: A) hot, untouchable best friends, and B) unrequited, unwanted feelings.

He fidgets in his seat. “I’m not allowed to…” He falters when he looks into my eyes. I’m pretty sure I look even more desperate than I’d been when I suggested we fake-date to get our best friends to realize how dateable we really are. He actually considered it for a moment, but then he scrunched up his nose and explained that Drew and Britt would probably set up triple dates for us all. It made sense, unlike the why-do-I-feel-so-betrayed scenario I’m currently in.

“She got a modelling contract,” he mutters, his eyes flitting down to my hands on his desk. “That’s the teal nail polish she bought you, right? I remember seeing it on her desk for at least two months until it disappeared on the day of your birthday.”

I snatch back my hands. “Not helping,” I sniff, looking away from him and crossing my arms over my chest. The thought should’ve lessened the betrayal crushing my heart, but it didn’t do much. I’ve always known that Britt was going to get scouted, but I didn’t expect her to be taken away the summer before our junior year.

Okay, I’ll be really honest now. She’s kind of my closest girl friend. Actually, she is my closest girl friend. And even if Drew’s technically considered my kind in terms of orientation, he’s still just so… boyish. He’s like a straight guy with the orientation of a gay one. That’s why he still has the ability to make my heart race. He doesn’t cross-dress or even try to look preppy; he just stays clean and wears the same clothes he always has.

That’s also why it hurts so badly that Britt is gone.

“Hey,” Mike’s beside now, and he wraps an arm around me as I blink back the tears. This is such a drawback to the great school year I’d been planning for.

He clears his throat. “Look, Kiki, I’m really sorry. If I’d known that Britt didn’t tell you about moving, I would’ve let you know. You know that, right?”

I lift my head. “Yeah.” For a moment I wonder why she didn’t tell me, and almost immediately I smack myself on the face. “She didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to ruin my summer.” I watch Mike through my fingers, and he smiles sadly.

The class suddenly goes quiet. “Mike, Kiki, André, Jeremy, Natalia, please sit down,” Mrs. Fridges uses her calm voice on us, even if her fiery eyes are using a tone much scarier.

Mike and I quickly scramble to our seats, and I get to mine just as Drew reaches is. Have I mentioned how people started calling him André after coming out? It annoys me, so I refuse to give into the fad. He doesn’t seem to mind.

He seems to mind the frown on my face, though.

I shake my head at his scrunched up eyebrows, turning in time to watch the door to our classroom fly open. My hearts stills in my chest as I wait for Britt to appear and shout ‘You just got punk’d!’ in my face, but it’s not her, and my heart falls.

It falls into my stomach, where all the butterflies are.

Because while Britt isn’t here, her male counterpart is. And he’s looking right at me.

“Sorry I’m late,” he grumbles, but not before staring at me for a moment longer. He walks up to Mrs. Fridges, holding out an envelope. I almost slink in my seat, almost melt from the intensity of the gaze he put on me. I’m pretty sure that my cheeks are blazing; I hope people don’t distinguish the blush from my naturally rosy tint.

Mrs. Fridges says something I don’t comprehend, and I snap out of it when the new guy finally speaks, his voice low and cool despite the number of eyes staring at him. “Hi, I’m Ben Parker.” He puts up a hand in an awkward wave, and he smiles. It’s painfully dazzling. “From New York, moved in last week, and I’m glad to join your class, yada yada. Thanks for the warm welcome.” I wonder for a moment if he’s being sarcastic, and I decide he’s not. Our principal is pretty nice for a school head.

I put my face in my hands as Mrs. Fridges talks again, but I lift my face when I hear Drew’s voice snap from my right side. “You can’t sit there.” He’s looking at Ben stationed next to Britt’s seat, his blue eyes narrowed. My heart constricts as I start to fully understand the situation.

So Britt moved away, and now there’s a new kid who’s as attractive as Drew. I’ve watched Drew casually flirt with guys the past couple of years, and I know that his pointed look isn’t reserved for those guys. And then I realize he doesn’t know that Britt’s left.

God, I’m terribly slow today.

“Drew, no-” I start just as Mrs. Fridges cuts me off.

“Haven’t you been listening, André? Brittany has moved away. I think Ben can sit there as he pleases.” She shakes her head at him while saying so.

With that, Drew huffs, muttering something under his breath I can’t quite catch.

“Are you all right with me sitting here?”

I turn to my left as a few girls reply with a yes, but Ben’s looking right at me and I almost die as I nod in reply.

And as I face forward all I know is that two boys are staring at me: the one to my left smiling, and the one to my right glowering.

I’m not sure this school year will be like the one I planned at all.