Episode 22| Only Friends Pt.1

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Sophia's P.O.V.

That night, I went to sleep with Bryce's name on my tongue. Repeatedly, I revisited our moment under the pier. I thought back to his luxurious scent on the collar of his shirt, slightly washed away by the rain. I couldn't forget the way I felt.

How could I forget?

I'd never been kissed that way. Despite the hunger that burned in him, he kept his composure and teased me by biting my bottom lip, releasing it from between his teeth slowly - painfully slowly. It was enough to drive me mad, even after I had ran off to my car.

The entire drive back to Nicolas' loft, I regretted the way I had sprinted from the scene. Bryce's puzzled expression was singed into my memory as well, replaying how taken aback he was at my decision to leave abruptly.

Bryce wasn't stupid enough to think I'd sleep with him after one kiss. Or maybe he was. The guy was a mystery that refused to be solved.

I asked a hundred questions when I woke up this morning in Nicolas' spare room. Brooklyn and I didn't have our long-awaited conversation last night. I was too drained when we got back from the carnival and I asked if we could postpone the talk.

Slipping on a pair of extra socks I had packed for the sleepover, I threw on my sweater and shuffled out of the room. The smell of coffee hit my nose two steps out.

"Oh, you're up early," Brooklyn chimed, stirring her coffee with a spoon. "I didn't expect anyone to be up yet."

"What's the time?" I yawned, walking to the kitchen.

"It's eight am."

"I couldn't sleep." I picked up the coffee pot and a red mug, pouring in the coffee. "How about you?"

"Neither could I." She admitted and put the cup to her mouth. "Is it because of the rain?"

I snorted a laugh. "You know where I live, Brooklyn. A little rain isn't going to keep me up at night."

I lived in the part of Los Angeles where the sirens never stopped whaling and the streets never calmed down. I confused gunshots for fireworks, thinking that would relax my fears. We lived in a better neighborhood when my dad was around. But when he left, our comfortable way of living went along with him.

"I know I couldn't get much shut eye because of the rain." She took a sip of her coffee. "What kept you up?"

Bryce.

Bryce's inviting smile, right before he kissed me.
Bryce's eyes, narrowed and forever unreadable.
Bryce's arms, holding me up against the wooden column.

"School." I lied effortlessly, reaching for the sugar jar. "I have a test for my Anthropology class. It's coming up soon."

"You'll be fine." Brooklyn set her coffee down. "You were always good in taking tests when we were growing up. You didn't become the valedictorian on accident. You worked for it. You're very smart, Sophia. That's always been something I liked about you."

"Who are you?" I squinted at her. "Did Nicolas set you up to this? Blink twice if you're being forced to say these things. Blink three times if he's holding someone you love hostage-"

"Sophia." She cried out. "Can we please be adults about this? I'm trying to be nice here. You and Nicolas joke around too much. You're both so childish."

Says the girl who wanted to steal someone else's man. Yup. I'm obviously not the adult. I'm the childish one.

I gulped my coffee to shut myself up. I had a basket full of insults and comebacks saved in my brain. I had to refrain my impulses though. I was here to make peace.

"I want to fix this friendship," Brooklyn stated. "I haven't been there for you in moments where you needed me, and I apologize for that. But I would really like it if you told me when I do something that bothers you. Sometimes I don't catch on that easily."

"The average best friend wouldn't continue to party with the group of people who publicly bullied their friend and shoved her into a lake. Neither would they question the legitimacy of a relationship. I didn't appreciate how you questioned everything about Remy and I when you found out. It was like you thought I was making it all up whenever I talked to you about him. Be logical, would you want to be friends with someone like that?" I snarled before I could stop to think. "Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't m-"

"No, don't say sorry." She sucked in a dry breath. "I deserved that. You have every right to be mad at me for doing those things. I can't justify them or explain why I did those things, but I can try to not let it happen again."

My brows raised. I was actually concerned that this wasn't the real Brooklyn - legitimately worried. Not only was she calm, but she admitted she was in the wrong. Brooklyn never did that. I couldn't imagine her saying that unless someone threatened to burn her favorite Adidas tracksuit.

Brooklyn reached over to where my hand was on the counter top and faintly tapped her fingers with mine. "I want to be friends again. A real friend - someone you can trust. I feel like you've been shutting me out a lot lately and going to Nicolas for advice instead of me."

"Nicolas has been supportive." I said. "I'm not intentionally trying to exclude you from the conversations."

"I know that now," she muttered, looking back to her coffee. She rubbed her lips together. "Oh, never mind."

"What is it?"

"It's just that," she puffed, "I wanted to ask about what occurred the other night."

"You mean how we fought?"

"No, not about you and I." She clarified. "I wanted to ask how things went with you and Bryce. Nicolas refuses to tell me what the 4-1-1 is. When it comes to you and Bryce, he seals his lips and won't tell me."

I blew some air into my steaming cup. "I don't want to bore you."

"You won't," she insisted. "Are you guys sleeping together?"

I spat out my coffee, coughing uncontrollably. A spray of umber liquid hit my sweater, like a waterfall it tumbled vertically down my shirt. "I can't feel my tongue," I mumbled. I had sucked in a lot of air, gasping hot coffee, after Brooklyn assumed I was sleeping with Bryce.

"I'll take that as a no, then," Brooklyn giggled, handing me some napkins from the cabinet. "I just...thought, with him being Bryce and all, that you guys would've done something at the carnival."

"We were at a public event," I seethed. "With people everywhere. Why would I do anything sexual with him in plain sight?"

"I know a girl on our floor who said she ...did some things - " Brooklyn wiggled her brows - "on a Ferris Wheel with her boyfriend last year. I figured since you guys were going there, you might -"

"No, we didn't. We only talked," I boomed, stopping her from finishing her statement. She had to be absurd to think I'd do anything remotely sex-related with Bryce, let alone anyone, on a Ferris Wheel.

"Talked," she snickered, shielding what appeared to be a smirk. "No one just innocently talks with Bryce."

"Well I do," I scowled. "We're friends."

Friends who have kissed. Same thing though.

"How long do you plan on being only friends with him?" Her dark lashes lowered, gleaming at me suggestively. "Sophia. I don't want you to get hurt by him."

"I'm not going to get hurt by him. We're only friends and I don't intend on getting any closer."

"I'm sure you're not the first girl to say that."

"Yeah, well, I'm the first one to mean it," I spat, unaware of how immature I sounded and looked with my arms crossed. I expected Brooklyn to laugh at me, but she didn't. I felt more confident with the absence of her condescending laughter. Picking my mug up from the counter, I said, "You don't know the first thing about him. You're basing off your opinion from what you've heard."

"Which is exactly what you did when I said I liked Conner. You told me numerous times that he wasn't a good guy just because you heard a few bad things about him."

"Bryce isn't as bad-"

I shut myself up. I couldn't say Bryce wasn't as bad as Conner. On the outside, sure Bryce was kinder than Conner, but I couldn't justify his actions when he wasn't around me. I could only defend his behavior when he was nearby. Saying he wasn't as bad, though, tasted like a lie in my mouth, ruining the thought of being with him.

I'd made a promised long ago, an oath really, stating that I wouldn't involve myself with someone that walked on the wrong side of life. My mother made me promise it, saying that danger might feel tempting at times, but I had to reassure myself that that wasn't the path for me.

Bryce wouldn't tell me what he did to get all of that money of his to afford a high security two-story apartment. He had said he got it from his parents, but I was starting to doubt that more and more after his accidental shooting.

You shouldn't judge him before you get to know him. My thoughts chattered.

I faced the floor. "I get that I said that to you about Conner, but I think Bryce is -"

"Different?" She said for me. "Sophia, he's not different. I may not know him personally, but we both know guys like him already. He'll act like he's into you for a short period of time and make you feel like your special. Maybe even ask you out to show you that you mean a lot to him. And once he gets what he wants, he'll throw you to the curb like garbage. Not answering your calls and not telling you why it didn't work."

I was unable to look at her, so I resorted to scolding at the ground. "You don't know that."

"I do. We know guys like him." She sat up on to the kitchen island, swinging her legs. "Listen, I completely get why offering Bryce a chance seems alluring. He's giving you a lot of attention - how long will that last though? Like I said, giving him a chance looks appealing now, but ending up with a bullet on the side of your head isn't."

My brown eyes shot to hers. "You think he's going to kill me?"

"Not him." She corrected, swishing around the content in her mug. She was the one that couldn't look at me dead on. "Maybe the same person who shot him though. Nicolas told me Kelsey called you from the hospital because of a gun-shot wound."

"You don't know anything I don't. He said it was an accident, so leave it at that."

She raised her hands up into the air, showing defeat. "Sorry. Okay, I will. You have to admit though that everything is ten times more dangerous because of the kinds of people he...hangs out with. I'm not telling you to cut him loose or anything drastic like that. All I'm saying is don't get yourself into a mess that's only going to add complications into your life. And Bryce Matthews? He's got complicated carved on to his damn forehead."

•••

Stuck to the forefront of my mind, Brooklyn's advice stayed in my every thoughts while I strolled back on campus. I barely touched my breakfast at Nicolas' loft.

Nicolas had sensed something off about me, but I told him not to worry about it. I wasn't in the mood to spill the details on my depressing talk with Brooklyn.

There was a part of me that knew Brooklyn was speaking from a genuine place. She was looking out for me like all friends do. I'd given her similar advice when she first showed interest towards Conner.

Would I be a hypocrite if I didn't follow her words, yet insisted for her to take my advice? I saw the truth in her words, warning me of what could happen if I associated myself with Bryce.

If things ended badly, Bryce would ignore me and throw me out like trash - which is what Brooklyn suggested. If things ended well, I could possibly be walking into my own demise.

Reaching into my backpack, I looked for my dormitory keys. They locked it out from the outside of the building to insure safety on campus. I knew I had thrown my key in there before I last left. Sitting down my bag to the front steps, I push things around.

"Need some help?"

I squinted at who had spoken. The sun hit their backside, making it hard to see who they were. I stood up straight. To my misfortune, it wasn't who I thought it was.

"I'm fine, Kennedy," I huffed and went back to searching my bag. "I don't need help."

Kennedy skirted around me and stepped up to the main entrance. The door creaked open in the matter of seconds.

"How did you..." I trailed off. He had a set of keys of his own in his hand, dangling from the door. "You live here, too?"

"Indeed I do," he chirped in that English accent of his. "I'm quite shocked I never saw you in here before. I haven't ever seen you in the common room."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder. "Yeah, well that's because I don't get out of my room all that often."

"Not much of a people person?" He presumed. "Neither am I, but it's nice to get out of my dorm every now and then. I'm going to kind of miss this place."

"Are you transferring schools?" I asked a little too quickly.

"No, I'm moving into the Kappa Kappa Sigma house this week." He informed, beaming.

"You're smiling," I observed. "I don't understand how anyone could be happy with joining a fraternity. You are basically told to pay to party."

His smile dropped. "That's what outsiders think, but it's more than that. It's about brotherhood."

I scoffed. "Oh really? Let me ask this then, do you guys have a brotherhood bonding moment before or after the Keg stand? Or is it the morning after when you can't remember the party because you were so blacked out? I'd like to know. I'm asking for a friend."

"You're only scratching the surface. Things go deeper than that. I feel like I can really rely on them."

"Rely on them to get you laid?" I snickered.

Kennedy rolled his eyes and blocked my access to the stairway with his large frame. "If you're so sure about the ins and out of a frat house, then why don't you come visit and see for yourself? We're having a party this Friday after the football game against the U of A. You should stop by."

"Sorry. I can't. I'll be too busy ripping out my eye lashes to attend. Can I pencil you for next to never?"

He popped his mouth open in what looked to be a frozen laugh. "I see what you're doing. You're pretending you're not interesting in going. I get it."

"Wrong. I'm not pretending. I actually am not interested in going to your party," I hissed and ducked under his arm, practically racing up the stairs to my dorm. One final time, I dug into my bag and found my dorm keys where I least expected it - the small compartment to the side. After unlocking the door, I threw my bag on to Lora's bed and shut the door.

It didn't stay shut for long. A soft knock on the wooden door caused me to jump for unknown reasons. I eased back and prepared myself to tell Kennedy off for following me to my dorm.

Twisting the door knob, I pulled it open. My gaze scanned over the guy before me who certainly wasn't Kennedy. A lump formed in my throat and words evaporated from my head, entirely forgetting how to speak.

"Bryce," I croaked. His crisp green jacket was rolled up to his elbows, enhancing his a emerald eyes. The sleeve in the right looked bulkier, so I assumed that was where his bandage was from the shooting. "What are you doing here?"

Bryce put his hand on the door, forced it open and sauntered into my dorm. My breathing stilled, calculating the space between our bodies in the small room - and most importantly, our lips.

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