He Says He's Just A Friend

Chapter 49 - Long Story Short

- Emmett -

Carrie and I didn't have many classes together, so I didn't have a chance to talk to her again until lunch. Though upon arrival, I couldn't speak openly. I'd suddenly found myself with a dozen new friends, all eager to learn about the accident. They wanted the story firsthand.

To get them off my back, I told the most basic version of the story, omitting Clay completely. They weren't too pleased by the revelation that I had no actual memory of the accident itself. All my knowledge came secondhand thanks to Clay and the hospital staff.

The group quickly dispersed, grumbling disappointment, leaving only my usual lunch crew. Makenzie sidled up to Dan, feeding him French fries. He bit off half, then she popped the rest into her own mouth. It was gross to watch, but I'd totally do something like that with Clay.

"So what's the real story?" Dan asked, hanging an arm around Makenzie's shoulders. She kissed his cheek. I envied their ability to be so carefree about their feelings.

"I really don't remember it," I said.

"Yeah, but there's more you didn't tell the lemmings." He raised a brow, quirking the corner of his lips. "Am I wrong?"

I shared a look with Carrie. She shrugged, tossing a sideways glance at them to suggest I tell them.

"We'd never tell anyone, if it's, like, a secret," Makenzie said. She reached over to grip my hand. I was a little grossed out because she had licked those fingers a moment ago. Though they were dry, it still made my skin crawl. I tried not to show my discomfort, reminding myself that she was being supportive.

I pulled my hand away, putting it under the table, trying to discreetly wipe my hand against my pants so as not to insult her. "I have a boyfriend."

Makenzie's face lit up. "That's great, Em."

"Since when?" Dan asked. "It's not that douchebag who dropped you last year, is it?"

I glared at Carrie. Had she told them about my lapse in judgement with Alfie, too? Catching the meaning of my scowl, she said, "I didn't tell them."

"Wait!" Dan held up a hand, giving me a look of disappointment. "You're seriously seeing that asshole again?"

"I'm not seeing him. We slept together. But that was it. He and I are done. For good this time."

"So who's the new guy?" Makenzie asked, tucking a lock of her red hair behind her ear before propping her arm up to rest her chin in her hand.

"He's still kind of in the closet. So I can't say much about him."

"Is it that Clay guy?" Dan asked, taking over his own feeding duties.

"What makes you ask that?"

Dan shrugged, dipping a fry in ketchup. I noticed a spot of green paint on his wrist, partially obscured by his bracelets. He must've missed it while cleaning up after art class. He had a habit of doing that, so wrapped up in his work that he didn't notice all the spots and streaks of paint splattered across his skin and sometimes his clothes. Then, after class, he was in such a rush to get to lunch that he rarely got it all off. The day they did charcoal drawings, he completely forgot to wash up and showed up to lunch with black fingertips. I had to grab the sandwich out of his hand so he didn't get a mouthful of charcoal stained bread. "He's like the only thing you ever talk about anymore."

I confirmed his speculation. Only because I knew neither he nor Makenzie would ever say anything. Ever since the Patrick incident, I'd whittled down my friend group to people I could trust without question, which left only the three of them.