I Don't Want to Fall in Love... With You

After feeding my mother Olivier salad for dinner, I almost danced to my room to get ready. Emily was picking me up in half an hour to go out on our 'mate date' with Ryan and his friends.

Since Tuesday, nothing much had happened. I'd been cornered by Miss Jenkins about my exam results one morning and she suggested I stay after school everyday for the next six months. Needless to say, I turned it down. I liked the woman, but not that much.

Apart from that, the week breezed by. Even Toby kept his distance.

I checked my phone after I applied winged eyeliner, but I had no new text messages. I scrolled down to my last one on Monday night, a certain someone asking I meet up with them.

After our kiss (and second in two days), Elijah drove me back home. Conversation had ceased to a minimal and goodbyes were not exchanged as I left. I didn't know if it was something I did or that he was lost in thought. Either way, I was still hanging now.

I hadn't visited Emily's house since. I didn't know if Elijah just wanted some space. It was understandable if he did, I was having trouble with our hot-and-cold exchanges as well.

My device vibrated in my hand, my best friend's name popping up on screen with a new message.

"Be at yours in 20."

I replied with a simple 'ok' and got straight back to tending to the tragedy that was my almost make-up free face, aside from the wings. Coating my lashes in mascara and applying nude gloss, I bounced up to my feet and admired myself.

Of course, when I say 'admire', I use the term loosely. In the baby pink off-shoulder sweater I'd borrowed from Emily and a white envelope skirt, I originally pleaded to wear colored tights or leggings, but my friend insisted that I had great legs and was better off bare.

I completed the look with pink ballet flats and a denim jacket, only half-sure on the whole thing when I heard a car coming up the drive.

Trotting to the front door without a quick scour for my mother's whereabouts, I locked the door and jumped into the vehicle.

Emily was looking the image of a living and breathing angel, dressed in a white tablecloth dress and wedges. She kept her make-up at a minimum, but made sure to highlight her cheekbones, her best feature.

Without so much as a 'hey', she backed out the drive and we were on our way.

After a short five-minute drive, she parked at Tiny Tim's Bowling Alley, killed the engine and didn't immediately proceed to get out. I was used to seeing Emily impatient, so her sitting still was a surprise.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, making sure not to make it obvious I was staring. I didn't want my thoughts to be written all over my face – my head was bad enough.

She ruffled up her dark curls. She'd forgotten to backcomb it.

"I don't know. Truthfully, I'm not even sure why we're here."

I rubbed my lips. At least she didn't know about what a bad friend I was.

"We could leave. Go to yours, order pizza and watch Pay it Forward, if you like?"

My best friend smiled, softly at first but it developed into something bigger within a matter of seconds. Nobody knew her quite like I did, and I'd spend all my life getting to know her more, from eyeballs to entrails (creepy, but truthful).

Her hand found mine, enclosing tight. Both our veins throbbed by the wrist, little blue lines covering our clashing skin tones.

"Normally, I'd be the one calming you," Laughing, she pulled on her door handle and edged it open. "Thanks for coming."

I shrugged.

I hadn't set foot in Tiny Tim's in years, so immediately the new and up-to-date interior caught my eye. The ceiling seemed higher, with disco strobe lights and speakers on the pillars, blaring Selena Gomez's latest hit. They fell to the reception desk, where the employees shined shoes and greeted enthusiastic players.

My eyes followed a same-sex couple toward the lanes, where old planks of wood had been replaced with something built from a more solid foundation. Their obnoxious laughter made only a small contribution to the noise that echoed throughout the landscape. It was a battle between what could be louder: people, balls smacking down their victimized pins or the machine persistently feeding heavy weighted weapons back to us.

I hadn't been here, or anywhere that would be deemed exclusively for social gatherings, in a while. By the looks of things, I could have been away for decades. I truthfully never thought Tiny Tim's would go for a makeover.

We stepped further inside, our shoes squeaking along the shiny floor.

We made it to the reception when Emily spotted Ryan at the far-right lane. She whispered to me if I could get her sneakers, flipping hers off and handing them to me before she fixed a grin on her face and sauntered in the direction of her potential crush.

Knowing fully well I was growling, I paid for both our shoes. Then, I begrudgingly made my way over.

Ryan wasn't alone, as promised. There was a tall, and cute, boy who laughed at his friend's jokes. His red hair was vibrant and demanded the attention of everyone in the room.

Ryan's smile brightened, as he dragged his friend off his seat and the guy was forced to shake our hands.

"Emily, Anya, this is my cousin, Julian."

Once the pleasantries were out the way, we got on with the game. Turns out, the boys were excellent bowlers and either hit strike or made spare. Emily was quite decent as well, but that was no surprise, since she'd failed at nothing since, ever.

I scored a weak four points on my first try, but when I sat next to Julian, he was grinning at me.

"I know I suck, you don't need to tell me." I giggled.

He rubbed his jaw sexily, like most guys do. You know what I mean, as if they're thinking but worried about how it will sound. People say women have no filter, but I think it's the opposite.

He then leaned back, draping a hairy arm over the neck of the seats.

"You're actually not that bad, but you're ignoring that flick which is vital to make your ball spin, therefore making you lose the bigger impact."

I raised an eyebrow. "Does someone play regularly?"

It was his turn to laugh. Funnily enough, it was a lot deeper than his actual voice. I didn't know if it was normal or not.

"Just for fun with either Ryan or my old man."

I nodded, watching Emily jump in joy as she scored her first strike. It was times like these that I bet she somewhat regretted picking a dress.

Well, unless she wanted to give the boys a peek – but that wasn't like her.

The game coming back round to me again, I got up and selected my ball. Then, without thinking too much about it, I turned, eyes resting on Julian.

"Would you mind giving me some more pointers?"

My question must have come out too loud though, as Ryan and Emily overheard. She was smiling as she looked between us, but her friend shirked a little away from her and piped up.

"Do you want lessons, Anya?"

I didn't want to seem like a loser, but my mouth sealed itself shut then. I didn't know if it was Ryan's influence or because I was showing myself a fool in front of someone new, but suddenly I'd returned to being mousey little Anya.

So, I just nodded.

Thinking Julian would stand up then, I turned towards the lane. The couple next to us has thrown their ball into the gutter, the girl complaining that it was all his fault somehow.

"Firstly, that ball is too heavy. You need an 8."

I looked up to find blond-haired Ryan standing behind me, said ball in hand. He was close, so much so that his deodorant was attacking my nostrils with a fiery kind of passion.

He replaced the ball I originally had with his and eased my fingers into the three holes. His skin was smooth, the tell of a relaxed man.

Positioning my legs correctly, he cupped a free hand to my hips, where he tapped me until I perfected the correct stance. His body stayed close, even when I ducked to roll, finally... to score seven pins.

"See, you can do it."

I whipped around, catching Ryan's murky eyes as our chests almost smacked. He wasn't much taller than I was, about five inches or so, he still wasn't in the running for lankiest boy. However, once I added in how much power exuded out from his pores, and briefly catching a flash of emotion crossing my best friend's face, he could've been standing on top of the world.

Brushing past him, I claimed the space next to Emily, whose nose was flaring and she blinked rapidly.

Ignoring me, she grabbed her bag and stood up, meeting gaze with only Julian.

"I'm not feeling well. Anya wants to stay a while, so can you drive her home, please?" There was a discernible crack in her voice and I tried taking her hand so she'd talk to me.

I never saw or heard Julian's response, since I was too busy watching her storm out of the grounds. If I tried to follow, I knew it would be no use as she'd be gone before I met the parking lot.

Did I do something wrong?

I looked at Ryan's cousin, who arched a singular brow and then shrugged.

"Well, she seems flaky."

I shot him a swift glare as Ryan removed Emily's name from the leader board. With the click of a button, she'd disappeared.

We made it about halfway through the game before I grew worried. She hadn't text me to say she made it home safe, nor why she'd lied about why she left. Therefore, it wasn't a good sign.

In the end, Ryan agreed to drop me off at hers, after we dumped Julian back at his. He said goodbye to me with a kind smile, one I found that I couldn't reciprocate. I didn't know why though, he seemed nice enough.

We were back on the road, listening to the radio as I guided the way. Each song melted into another, ending in a buzz of static.

"So... today was a bit of a failure. Do you think Emily is okay?" Ryan was taking his attention off the road every few moments to check on me.

I bit my lip.

"Probably, I just want to be sure."

Seemingly satisfied with it, he dialed the volume down and fidgeted in his seat.

"Of course, I just hope it didn't tarnish the memory. I'd like us to hang out again soon."

I turned my head, scrutinizing him quickly. It wasn't the first time I thought it odd that someone as admired and god-like as Ryan would want to hang with us.

"Yeah, definitely."

When we arrived at her house, I looked up towards her window and saw that the light was still on. Then, my eyes shifted down, until I was watching the plasma television present a black-and-white flick. In the middle of it, blocking a full possible view, was a sandy-brown head, tipping back a glass of alcohol.

On one hand, I wanted to waltz in and see my friend... but another part of me fought to compose myself at the vision of him. I couldn't see his face, so I couldn't know what mood he happened to be in.

A week ago, I'd have had no problem with walking in and treating the mansion like my home, but now – it was unfamiliar somehow.

And I didn't like that. Not even a little.

"Thanks," I murmured, already stretching for the car door. "I'll see you Monday."

Almost slamming it behind me, I advanced on the walk slower than any friend should. The closer I got, the further away it became. Like a never-ending corridor from some scary film.

I was about to twist the doorknob (eventually), when I distinguished a shrill call coming my way. Spinning back, Ryan's figure came back into view, a mess of colors in a dark night.

He grinned sheepishly, taking the last step on the porch and standing under the light. It illuminated his blue eyes into orbs of wonder, and they continued to stare me down until I'd crumble.

"I know it was only a few seconds, but I got thinking in the car... and I don't want to see you on Monday," He locked on me completely. I'd gone still.

"What?"

"At least, not until I do this."

Just as I was about to throw more questions, Ryan put both his hands on my cheeks and lowered his face to mine, where he touched his lips to my own.

Contrary to what I thought, he tasted of hot butter and pastries. I didn't get much time to think about it, or react, as someone cleared their throat.

With Ryan detaching himself from me softly, at the entrance stood the one person I didn't want to luck into. He was still dressed impeccably, navy blue suit crinkled only in the most obvious places. The hand that held his whiskey glass was trembling.

"Mr Quinn, sorry, I was just showing Anya–"

"How to play tennis?" He interjected.

At first, Ryan was visibly surprised, then recovered in the next frame. His beaming smile could've shattered the lights.

"I was saying goodnight." Then, to me, his expression grew into something brighter. "Good night, gorgeous. See you at school."

Unable to face Elijah, I strode on past him and made a beeline for the stairs. Before he could dare shout me back down, I'd already reached the upstairs landing, although I did hear him exhale as he stalked back to the lounge.

I sighed in relief. That was one dealt with, now it was time for the biggie.

I hovered outside Emily's room to eavesdrop. I know I had no right, but I wouldn't stand her lying to my face if she wasn't alright. Which she would, always did.

I knocked on the door, fast. Before she got the chance to yell, I opened it and stepped into the haze of purple.

The girl in question was perching on the bed, leaning back into the fort of cushions, knees by her chest. She was still wearing the dress, so I sidestepped, permitting her at least some privacy.

Her face was streaked with ruined make-up, eyeliner smudged across her temples and cheeks. She had inadvertently rubbed it on her arms too.

Her scowl was made of steel.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Recoiling from her coarse language, my jaw struggled to form words. No matter what my mind came up with, I never spoke.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I thought you'd be too busy smooching the face off him."

I took a step closer, hesitant that she'd allow me near her at all.

"I thought he was interested in you."

"Well, looks like we're both idiots." Wiping her eyes again, she addressed the floor. "He asked me... then he's all over you. I don't... I mean, I don't–"

I'd never seen Emily at such a loss before. I could feel how scattered she was, my head was hazy too, but I never wanted to be the cause of that.

Ryan's likening to me was sudden and unexpected. In the whole time I've known him, he'd always hung with Emily first and they had a lot in common. I only joined in if my friend needed someone to fill the silence or who'd take the fall for her missteps.

Now, with my frayed relationship with her father, this had just become a whole new level of complicated.

"I didn't know." I whispered, sitting on the edge of the mattress, aching to reach out and comfort her somehow.

She exhaled, long and heavily.

"I know. I just... why not me?" Her voice cracking again, she didn't fight me off when I lunged forward and cradled her. Lying her head on my lap, I caressed her hair and let her pour her heart out.

Two thoughts crossed my mind as her cries gradually dulled to snores.

One. Why not Emily? I mean, after all, she was smart, beautiful and loyal to a fault. I honestly couldn't fathom why Ryan wouldn't want her. It wasn't enough that she'd pined after him for months, but now he had to bring me in to this.

I had to sort this out. Find a way to make him change his mind. I'd do anything, if it meant giving my friend her happily ever after.

Then, there was the other notion to consider.

If this was how she would react to a regular boy kissing me...

How could I ever break it to her about my rendezvous with her dad?