The Best Friend Facade | JHOCEY

TRES

"We have to go in at some point."

Stacey and Jhoanna sat forward in their seats, Stacey's chin resting atop her arms that were slumped across the dashboard. Jhoanna's face was pressed on the steering wheel, and neither of them wanted to move. Her parents' home seemed to tower up above them, a mass of brown brick and arch windows, ivy snaking up the walls and tangling with the drainpipes.

Stacey had freaked out when they'd trundled up the long drive, gravel crunching under the wheel of the car.

"My God, Jho, you could have warned me," she'd muttered, snapping her legs down off the dashboard and stuffing her bare feet back into her sandals, hurriedly trying to fasten the buckles. "That's not a house, that's a mansion. It looks like one of those places they hire out for tourists to visit so they can poke at old Victorian furniture and pretend to be cultured."

Jhoanna laughed, keeping her eyes on the road as she followed the lane and the house got closer and closer. "I don't think they actually have any Victorian furniture."

"I didn't say they did, I just said it looked like they might." she said.

At that point, she'd driven up to the house, slotting the car in the available space and parked. Neither of them had made any motion to leave.

"I feel so underdressed," Stacey mumbled, her voice slightly muffled. She'd buried her head into her arms at this point. "I feel like they're going to yell at me for my posture or make me eat caviar. I'm not going to be made to eat caviar, am I?"

Jhoanna snorted, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "No caviar, I promise. You know there's no reason to be nervous, right?"

"I'm not nervous," Stacey said, combing her bangs. "Or at least, I wasn't until I saw that house."

"You know it doesn't really matter if you impress my parents or not, right?" Jhoanna said, raising an amused eyebrow.

Stacey made a 'humph' sound, turning her head away from her and looking out towards the house. In her mind's eye, Stacey could picture Jhoanna's flat, drawing in discarded clothes and bobby pins, and she had a feeling that she needed to impress people no matter what Jhoanna said.

A few moments passed, both of them waiting for the other to move.

"Hey, is it too late to fake sickness?" Stacey said, twisting back around to look at her.

"Probably," Jhoanna said. "Especially as they've probably got their noses pressed up to the nearest window waiting to get the first glimpse of you."

"You think?"

She nodded. "I bet they'd open the door before we even make it to the porch."

"Okay," Stacey said, the word coming out in one long sigh. "I guess we better get out, then."

The pair left the car, Stacey slipping out and slamming the door shut before Jhoanna could hurry round and open the door for her.

As they made their way towards the porch, Stacey yanked at her arm. "Quick, put your arm around my waist."

Jhoanna stumbled over towards her while she tried to process what she'd just said. "What?"

"My waist, Jho," she hissed. "We've got to look like a couple, remember?"

She put a tentative arm on her side, her hand barely brushing the fabric of her dress. Her fingers froze in place. It felt wrong to be this close to her, like she'd crossed an invisible line–though Stacey didn't seem to care, judging by the way she'd rolled her eyes and moved her hand closer.