+ S I X +

     Public schooling was starting to get the best of me. With assignments coming from every direction, and Melanie bugging me about whether I was serious about joining her cheer team or not.

     Of course I wasn't being serious. Why on earth would I want to be on a cheer team? What good would I do the Asheville Patriots? None, at all—and I found myself not wanting spend anymore unnecessary time with Summer Burgess.

     Summer was for sure an interesting character. She sat at the back of every class I shared with her, her tanned arms crossed atop of her chest as she analyzed everyone and everything. She didn't seem happy, as though everything she did was mandatory and not at all voluntary.

     I felt for her; I felt for her unexplained need to please everyone around her—so that they knew never to cross her.

     My sister even seemed a little on the fence about about Summer, seeming as when I asked her, she refused to give any insight of her feelings about the blonde, cheer captain who wasn't to be screwed with.

     And she certainly didn't make my days any easier. But I tired my best to let that go after it was all said and done.

     But what was excruciatingly hard to live with, was my constant thoughts of Noah Donovan. I dreamt of his mocha skin, and his curly, curly hair, that was short, but long enough to run my fingers through. He was one hell of a looker, and all I wanted to do was get my hands on him.

     But I'd have to settle for a friendship—for Melanie's sake. Because I just couldn't shake the aching feeling in my stomach that she still had feelings for him. And I couldn't have feelings for someone my sister had feelings for.

     It'd be breaking the ultimate girl code—not that she'd ever have the same morals for me.

     But I loved Melanie. And I'd let myself get hurt before I let anything happen to her.

"How does dinner at Lahee's sound, girls?" My father asked, both hands on his hips as my mother rolled her eyes, tossing a stack of white envelopes onto the dining room table. "You know we can't afford, Hal."

"It'll be fine, Melissa. Stop worrying for once." My father argued back, lifting his trucks keys from the table.

"If I didn't worry so much, then, we'd have nothing to eat—does that sound smart to you? Does it?" Melanie and exchange a look, rounding our way to the steps as our parents continue out their argument. Then we know; we aren't going to out dinner tonight.

     Once Melanie and I make it back into the bedroom, I slump down into my bed, while Mel does the same on hers.

     I'm curious about the whole Noah Donovan situation, because I want to see him again. But he's respectively off limits if Melanie's got her eye on him.

     "Hey, Mel. . ." I trail off, playing with the tube connecting my nostrils to my oxygen tank. "I'm just gonna go right on ahead and say it—do you still have feelings for Noah Donovan?"

     "God, no," she said without hesitation and I can't help but breathe out a breath of relief. "The guys a train wreck and a douche. And plus; I've got my eye on someone extremely different from him."

     I sit up, pinning her gaze with my curious one. "Like who?"

     She doesn't answer, only sitting up as she removes her slippers to snuggle deeper under her covers. "Lets not talk about that now—"

     "Come on, Mel. You know you can tell me anything, right?" A sad look washes over face, as she sits up again, her hand running through her long strands of hair. I think over every guy I've been in contact recently, but none of them seem to be bad enough to the extent of Melanie keeping him from me.

The only person she seems to be spending time with Meredith Palmer, her fellow cheerleading friend with the decorated fingernails. "Look—you don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable—"

"I'm dating Meredith!" She blurts out, suddenly, and I'm left shocked by her words. She slams a hand over her mouth after she's said this, and my jaw drops unintentionally. "I'm so sorry for keeping this from you for so long! I was just afraid that you wouldn't be cool with it—"

     "Mel!" I interrupt her, standing from my bed spread, to round my way over to her. A tear slips from her cheek, as I wipe it with my thumb. "Of course I'm cool with it. Why wouldn't I be? I'm just happy if you're happy."

     "Really?" She whispers, looking up at me with wide eyes that scream nervousness and alarm.

     "Yes, really. Being gay is so cool these days," I laugh, and she follows along. "Just think of it this way—you won't ever have to have any kids. That's fucking great."

     She pulls me down onto her bed spread, holding onto me firmly. "Thanks, Jules."

     I smile into her hair, running my hand up and down her back. "Anytime."