Tightrope

Thanks, Bestie

"I can't believe you don't host the group here more often," said Jace, his eyes wide as he was once again struck by the magnitude of our house. He had last been here yesterday, so it was really time for him to get over it.

"Oh, I do. I just don't invite you," I said breezily as I unlocked the door.

"Thanks, bestie," he said.

"No problems, homebrero."

"Champ."

"Pal."

"Sport."

"Homie."

"Friend."

"That's basic and boring. Compadre."

"Okay," said Jace in surrender. "I'm out."

I relished the taste of sweet, sweet victory. It was cute when Hartley lost. Beating him was generally my favourite activity. 

"Aw, that's sad. Mate, homeboy, buddy, companion, comrade."

"Remind me to never compete with you in any word games."

"It's cute that you call it competing. Is it still a competition if the other person doesn't provide any sort of competition?"

Jace chuckled. "Hilarious."

"I thought so."

I let him inside the house with a flourish. So different to yesterday, when I'd almost been tempted to barricade the door, as if he was a psycho killer on his way to murder me and I was boarding up the house. He probably would've burnt it down. Like a dick. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Neither you nor the abode is humble," Jace muttered.

I didn't argue. "Welcome to my ostentatious, deeply narcissistic abode! Please grab a stick from the entrance hall and stick it up your ass, as this is a requirement of all residents."

When Jace laughed, it was hearty, and genuine, and it made an unfamiliar warmth spread through my chest. Jace always laughed at my jokes, which was understandable, as I was undeniably hilarious, but it had never elicited this pleased reaction from me. 

This was new, and I did not like it.

"So that's what Reece Moore meant when he said you liked it a bit freaky," said Jace. "Up the ass, huh? Interesting."

I threw my hands up. Fucking Reece Moore. Why does he seem to feel the need to blab, constantly. No one asked, perv. "Reece is a douche, and I request that you don't listen to him, ever."

"No denial. Also interesting."

I threw an apple at him. He caught it. He was looking unbearably smug. Clearly, Reece's unnecessary tattling had gone around the whole school, if even Jace, who rarely participated in the gossip mill, had heard it. Like, honestly, who even cared what I liked? Reece was a shameless social climber. Messing around with me was not going to raise his social status, but he was obviously deluded if he thought telling everyone about me would. 

I hated Reece Moore deeply in this moment. "How come you got to date McKenna, and I got Reece Moore?"

"Because I have better taste."

"Wanna swap?"

Jace shrugged. "Reece has very nice hair."

He wasn't wrong. Reece had fabulous hair. Apparently, his hair had bewitching powers. Hadn't allowed me to see the asshole within. Like, seriously? Between telling Knight I'd touched Little Reece and telling Jace I liked it "freaky", which, ew, Reece Moore may as well write and publish a manifesto. Ew.