His Best Friend's Sister

Chapter 4

Autumn

After spending part of my afternoon with Ricky, I couldn't help but notice him a little more perceptively in the weeks that followed. Of course, I had always noticed Ricky. I had always noticed his hair, his hazel eyes, verging between green and brown depending on the light. His full lips. The little tiny birthmark under his eye. The veins on his hands, and his adams apple. I had always been curiously drawn to adams apples. The way they moved when boys talked or laughed. Ricky's was particularly of interest to me. It moved not only when he laughed or talked, but it also twitched when he seemed nervous, or unsure of what to say.

But I began to notice Ricky's mannerisms, too. The way he would tilt his head to the right and run a hand through his matted head of hair, whenever he was bored with whomever he was speaking to. I often sat close to Alexander's lunch table in the cafeteria. Ricky would give me a small smirk from across the table whenever someone did or said something humorous, and I would smile back as if I had just read his mind. It felt like whatever was happening, Ricky and I were in on the joke. We were on the same page, even if every other person - including Alexander - was elsewhere. While we didn't talk nearly as much as we had that day, every time he gave me a nod in the hallways, or came to our house for breakfast, our greetings felt slightly different. They felt almost as if we had a secret that no one else knew about.

It was likely just my imagination. But I liked to imagine it.

In November, the juniors and seniors had to go to an assembly on drunk driving, which would be taking place in the auditorium. Almost immediately after I walked in, I took note of Alexander and Ricky sprawling their long legs on those tiny auditorium seats, surrounded by their entourage of friends, including Elliot Bowden and Rex Spicer.

Alexander and Ricky had met Rex in high school, and Rex was the most unbearable of all their friends. Loud, gluttonous and rude, I would inwardly groan every time he entered my home. He would constantly rummage through our pantry, and he left traces of himself everywhere he walked like a trail of slime on a slug. Except instead of slime, it would be granola wrappers, or empty yogurt cups, or banana peels. My mom had once referred to him as a walking trash compactor, although she seemed to have a soft spot for him, regardless. For reasons beyond my comprehension, the guys, including Ricky, genuinely seemed to enjoy Rex's company. Upon hearing his booming voice echoing through the auditorium, I assumed it was probably because he could liven up any party with that energy. In fact, all Alexander could talk about a couple weeks prior was how hilarious Rex's Halloween costume had been at a senior party. Although he wouldn't tell me what it was; likely because it was an indication of Rex's crude humour. 

I watched as the group would conspiratorially speak to each other, look around the room, then report back to one another yet again, leaning their heads in close the whole time. Ricky was engaging, but not saying much. He would deliver subtle smiles and nods when addressed, without initiating commentary. I wondered gravely if they were talking about each girl who walked into the auditorium and passed by their seats. It was only a matter of time until they saw...

"Ew, my sister. Gross. Next." I heard Alexander say, confirming my suspicions.

Robin, who was of course right by my side, and as quick as she was, picked up on his comment instantly and approached them directly. "Leave it to you losers to put on a pathetic little imaginary beauty contest at a drunk driving assembly," Robin sneered.

"D'Amico," Rex started condescendingly, leaning forward in his seat.

Robin cocked a brow.

"Don't be upset that you didn't make it to the final round."