First Impressions

Chapter XIX: Dropping Eaves

My time with Ashton seemed to be over in a flash that Thursday night, but I saw him on Friday again, and even in our brief encounter our friendship felt more enforced than ever. The weekend came around faster than expected, but I was not complaining about seeing Ash this time, which made it all that much easier.

I got to talk with Pam on Saturday morning as well, and she appeared to be quite pleased that Ash and I had hung out on Thursday night. She gushed about how great a friend I was and how thankful she was that Ash had someone like me in his life. It all seemed ridiculous to me, but Pam was quite convinced. Silently, I prayed that she had not told my parents. That would be all kinds of bad.

Despite my fears and doubts, I could not help but feel somewhat flattered that Pam thought so highly of me—why she did was beyond me. I'd done nothing to earn her praise, and yet she having the time of her life bragging me up.

As much as I was grateful for the awkward praise, I was perhaps even more grateful when she and Jacob left the Savvonski house and climbed into their taxi cab. Then it was just Maine and the ticking clock and the sleeping boy upstairs.

No sooner had I set to work on washing the dishes than my cell phone began ringing. Sighing with mild irritation, I dried my hands and pulled the phone from my pocket. When I saw "Britt <3" flash across the screen, I frowned. What now?

As much as I did not feel like talking to my wonderful best friend right now, I accepted the call and brought my phone to my ear. Trying not to sound as done as I felt, I greeted her. "Hey, Britt!"

"Maine!" she exclaimed, her morning voice strangely alert. Then again, she had been strangely alert every morning for the past week.

"What's up?" I asked her, already having a bad feeling about this.

Sounding far too eager, she began unloading her whole wacky scheme. "I'm just calling to make sure that you get blackmail about Ash. It's been like five weeks already, and you still haven't come up with anything yet. I thought I'd help you out!"

Cue my mental groans. "How so?" The words sounded even less enthusiastic than I had planned, but she didn't seem to notice.

Britt was all business. "Well, have you been in his room yet?"

"Yes."

"Did you find—"

"No. There was nothing in there."

"Okay," she said in stride, "Have you looked around for any diaries or journals or anything like that?"

No! No, Britt! And even if I had, it would be none of my stupid business! "Look," I started to say, but she interrupted me.

"Just answer the question."

My lips parted in shock. Had she really just—wow. Wow, Britt. In a less than cordial tone, I answered her, "Yeah. I suppose I've looked. But did I find anything? No. No, of course I did not."

"You don't have to say it that way."

Really, Britt? Really? "Well, sorry," I replied in a way that made it clear I was far from sorry.

There was a long silence on the other end, before Britt spoke up again, this time in a quiet tone that rang of both hurt and accusation. "You know, you're really petty, Maine."

I made no effort to understand her. "Excuse me?"

Britt ignored me, going on to say, "Just because I have a boyfriend doesn't mean you have to act like a jerk to me. What did I ever do to you?"

Her words had a way of making me sound like the bad guy—and maybe I was—but as far as I was concerned, she was the one acting off color. "Nothing," I snapped. "Except turn into a completely different person!"