Best Friends (BxB)

Christmas Cookies

Chapter Six: Age 15 Christmas Cookies

"Oh my god, don't let it fall!" Dane's voice rose to an unnaturally high pitch.

Jude smiled sheepishly, looking down. Where there was an entire bag of white sugar. Spilled all over the floor. Everywhere. Spread from one end of Dane's family's immaculate kitchen to the other.

"Sorry," Jude said in a tiny embarrassed voice.

Dane covered his eyes, grimacing, but then looked up, smiling. "It's ok. Accidents happen."

"They happen around Jude 24/7!" Harrison added, taking the dustpan from Alyisha who had the broom. "They're a walking talking hurricane. It's because they're supposed to wear glasses but they hate the idea of looking like a nerd."

Jude's face flushed as Alyisha cocked an eyebrow above her trademark red specs "No, no. Stop being a jerk, Harrison. I don't think glasses are nerdy, I just think they would ruin the immaculate  lines of my face." They held their face this way and that, and it was true. Their face looked sculpted from marble. High cheekbones and long ski slope nose and full plump pink lips. "I've done some modeling, you know," they said airily.

Jamie laughed from his perch on the bar stool. Enjoying the chaos and fun of his new friend group. "Yeah, nice. Too beautiful to help clean up your own mess?"

"No no no no no! Of course not. I'm not just a pretty face! I can help!' Jude bent down to grab the dustpan, managed to knock heads with Alyisha and as they bumped into her, the broom hit the pile of sugar sending it into the air like a snowstorm.

Baking holiday cookies with his friends was proving more challenging than Jamie ever thought it would be. They'd started over thirty minutes ago, and hadn't even finished the dough for one kind of cookie. They all brought a recipe they wanted to try. So five different types of cookies in the works. Dane was an expert baker, at least according to himself, but he wasn't used to dealing with such unhelpful helpers.

The tall boy sighed, his long thin fingers rubbing his forehead. "Well, why don't you guys go get some more sugar, and Jamie and I can clean this up."

Alyisha nodded, and pulled the comedy duo out the door and to her car, leaving her best friend and Jamie to deal with the mess.

They worked quietly. Dane silent, because he tended to be, that was just his personality. Jamie not talkative, because now that there wasn't entertainment in front of him, he reverted back to his baseline mood these days.

Sad.

Dane continued to sweep, even after all the sugar was cleaned up, at least to Jamie's less nitpicky eyes.

"Everything ok?" Dane asked, eyes on the floor.

"Hmm? Yeah, I guess." Jamie said, picking up the brown sugar, and smelling it, smiling a little. It was one of his favorite scents.

"You could have invited Noah to come make cookies with us," Dane said, voice neutral. "You know we all like him. Joey too. He's ok."

"Yeah, I know." 

 Jamie and Noah didn't hang out much these days. And when they did, it was weird. Because their relationship was built upon their physical affection, or at least, it seemed a critical part of just being together. Being close. So when they were in the same room, but didn't touch each other, part of Jamie withered away. He knew it was one hundred percent for the best. Things had gotten so blurred between them, before, that Jamie felt like they were practically boyfriends. Which they weren't. And wouldn't be. Ever.

Noah was busy with basketball anyway and hanging out with his new friends. Who were nice. They weren't jerks. But they were all athletes. Well not Kimmie, Dwight's girlfriend, but she had no problem talking sports, and worked out with them. She was kind of an athlete since she did hip hop dancing. The few times Jamie hung out with them, he just felt lost. Which was so weird because he never saw himself as a wallflower type, the quiet type. It's just, he didn't want to say or do anything to make Noah look bad in front of his friends. Noah was still always at his side, still awesome and adorable and sweet, but he didn't touch Jamie or try to hold his hand. Which hurt.