The Adventures of a Scrawny Musician and a Compulsive Liar

8. A First Kiss and an Old Friend

            It was another typical weekday morning. The gang and I were back in the confines of public school with me squinting through half-asleep eyes at a Coke can and Nathaniel flipping through his texts and occasionally reaching up to run his hands through his hair, but stopping once he remembered the excessive amounts of gel he plastered on there every morning. The odd thing was that Isobel was home sick. I’ve become so used to her presence that not having her standing by Evan’s side with their hands held in each others had become an extremely odd sight to me.

            In fact, I told Evan this very thing and he just shrugged and said that he felt it too.

            And we trudged along.

            Everything went the same as always. Ms. Gail had her flailing arms and Mr. Caballero had his tight pants. However, at lunch was when everything took a drastic turn for the worst.

            As soon as I saw Evan walking towards us—Nathaniel and I—we both knew something was wrong. His eyes were focused on the ground in front of him and his forehead was creased in an expression that looked like a cross between extreme worry with a hint of anger and a dash of fear. Nathaniel noticed it too.

            “Dude, what happened?” He asked, completely disregarding the carton of fries we’d been having a giant tug-of-war fight over just a moment ago.

            Evan dropped his backpack onto the grass beside us and sat down. The troubled look on his face never disappeared. Finally, he sighed, rubbed his face with his hands in a nervous gesture and simply said, “He’s back.”

            Confused, I asked, “Who?”

            Evan gave me a pointed look then muttered reluctantly, “Jeremy Whitfield.”

            “Oh, shit,” Nathaniel breathed.

            Oh shit was right. What was Jeremy doing back here?

            “Does Isobel know?” I asked. That was the real question we needed to know the answer to. Did she know since yesterday? A pained expression flickers across Evan’s face.

            “I don’t think so… I mean, she didn’t seem all that different yesterday when I talked to her.” Evan mutters then looks down miserably at his feet. “She probably won’t do anything about it, right? I mean, it’s been two years… and she’s always seemed as happy with me as I am with her…” I could understand his insecurities. While I—or any of us for that matter—may not be Mr. Takes-five-AP-classes-and-volunteers-at-the-homeless-shelter-in-his-free-time, Jeremy Whitfield was certainly that and more. When he went to our humble school two years ago, all the teachers fawned over him and his athleticism, his grades, his acting talents… he was sickeningly perfect, it was ridiculous. And there was one more crucial detail that made it all the worse.

            He was Isobel’s love of her life.

            Her being a girl wasn’t the only reason I felt uncomfortable with her joining our group at first. Evan had a crush on her since the seventh grade and half the school knew about it, including her. I was afraid that she was only using my best friend as a rebound. And that was something I would not accept. It was only after about a year of them dating that I realized she wasn’t going to let him go anytime soon and I was alright with that. Happy with it, in fact.

            But this was different. As much as I trusted Isobel, I also saw how she adored Jeremy during the time that they were together starting from the fourth grade. I glanced up at Nathaniel and an unspoken understanding flashed between us, and we each put an arm around Evan’s shoulders to provide what little comfort we could.