The Popularity Project » l.h.

9. Best Friend-Zone

S T E L L A 

"So you're telling me that he was this close," Gracie says, squeezing my face in both of her hands as she presses her forehead to mine, " and you didn't kiss those luscious, Hemming lips?"

"Should you really be saying that right now? I'm sure Mikey would not appreciate that." I raise my brow at her, watching her mirror my facial expression back to me.

"He would agree with me because Michael is Michael and Michael loves Luke." She nudged her head harder against mine, "But stop trying to distract me, you're the one that didn't make a move."

Gracie was outraged, as she squeezed me harder with every word she spoke. Her grip squished my lips together like a fish's mouth, making most of my words incoherent.

"I justh not rightsth." I manage to murmur, swatting my best friend's hand off of my face. "If I pulled a move like that, my friendship with him would've been done for."

"Yeah. A friendship's end and a new relationship's beginning!" Gracie rolled her eyes as she spoke, continuing to push her forehead harder on mine. "Besides, he was so drunk that he probably wouldn't have even remembered what happened anyway."

"Still doesn't make it right." I pushed back harder, groaning in frustration and my developing headache.

Would I have liked to sneak a kiss with Luke in Tyler's bathroom? Sure, but at what cost? I have too much on the line with Luke, alongside his hellbent girlfriend who would have ended my life over it. As much as I would've loved to give it a try, the risk was not worth taking.

"Face it Stel, you're into him and you have a feeling he's into you!" Gracie practically screamed, her blue locks of hair shaking and hitting my face. "You should've made a move on him while you had the chance-"

"Stella making a move?" I freeze as I hear a familiar voice alongside another person's familiar chuckle. "That's the last thing she would do."

I refused to look, staring frantically into Gracie's wide eyes as my forehead was still butted against hers. 

"Mikey? Is that you?" Gracie's voice shifted quickly from an angry, old sailor to a sweet three year-old little girl in a heartbeat. 

"Yeah, and Lukey is here too." His gruff voice echoed my living room. "What's my little Siamese-twins up to?"

"I hate you." I muttered soft enough for only Gracie to hear as I stayed glued to her in panic.

We must have looked like two girls from a very bad sitcom with corny laughter playing in the background. We both woke up only half an hour before the boys arrived, as we were still dressed in our sleeping clothes and had bad cases of bedhead. Gracie gave me sorry eyes, yet did not dare to disconnect her forehead from mine as we stood awkwardly leaning together in the middle of my living space. 

"Do they always do this?" I hear Luke question, along with the sound of items being set down on my dining room table. 

"Actually now that I think about it-" Michael paused for a moment, "yeah, they do it a lot. Like a weird, off-brand DragonBall-Z fusion scene or something."

I hear the boys chuckle as Gracie finally pulls away from me, causing me to stumble a bit to catch my balance. 

"Only when we're fighting, that's not a lot." Gracie argued to her boyfriend while we made our way over to the table with an assortment of Chinese take-out food from down the street. 

"You both fight at least twice a day." Michael rolled his eyes at Gracie, only for her to let out a knowing giggle.

I thought that the previous conversation had been dismissed by my weird interaction in the living room with Gracie, as I was relieved and casually rummaging through the boxes of food when Luke's broad figure shadowed over mine.