Conflicted

We walk to the small coffee shop on the other side of campus, aptly named The Stinky Bean, and get our drinks. I sigh as I finish the last of my coffee, fighting the urge to buy a second one. I could live on this stuff, and during exam times, I often do. I attribute at least half of my success to that damn drink. Maybe I should drop out and become a coffee specialist. Is there even such a thing? I giggle to myself. My father would love that, though I’m sure he would see it as being on par with being a psychologist.

“So, are you going to tell me how your date went?” I smirk, tossing my empty cup into the trash. I grab a handful of my ponytail and twist it around my fingers as I glance at him, eyebrows raised. I usually hate hearing about Lucas and his women, but Sara makes him uncomfortable for whatever reason, and that makes me happy.

“It wasn’t a date,” he scoffs, shooting me a look. We walk outside in the direction of the parking lot. “It was extra credit for an assignment.”

“And having me there would’ve thrown everything off for the poor girl?” I ask, not bothering to hide the amusement in my voice. “She has the biggest crush on you and she was threatened by me being there. Admit it.”

“It’s not like that at all,” he argues.

I roll my eyes at how blind he is. Sara couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d tried. The look in her eyes when she saw I’d come with him had said it all. Not that I can blame her. Lucas is a good-looking guy who gets a lot of attention from females. Being his best friend comes at a price, because girls can be brutal when it comes to competing for a guy’s attention. They see me and think I’m a threat.

I’ve known Lucas since I was nine. We met during scouts when he came over to inform me that girls weren’t “allowed.” I’d punched him in the stomach and demanded he be my friend. God knows why, but my tactic had worked. We became fast friends, and from that moment on we were inseparable. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

When we were younger, he was there for me when I went through some difficult stuff with my parents. For a long time, I liked him more than a friend should. I worked up the courage to tell him that after our senior formal, only for him to tell me he wasn’t interested in me in that way. I was hurt and embarrassed, but he refused to lose me as his friend.

Our friendship was the perfect excuse for him not wanting me, especially after his grandmother died. I was the closest thing to a family he had. I could understand not wanting to mess with that. We never spoke of it again but it was still there, buried in the back of my mind, taunting me. I’d moved on a long time ago, but watching him with other girls made me feel something. Jealous? Self-conscious? Upset? I don’t know exactly what.

“Who cares?” he grumbles, yanking the car door open. “She’s hardly my type of chick.”

“Right,” I giggle. “Because she’s not falling over herself drunk?” I snort, sliding into his car. I close the door and buckle up my belt. “I forgot. You don’t do relationships—only casual hookups. And you prefer the blond bimbo type with half a brain cell.”

“Can we get off the topic of my love life?” he growls as I howl with laughter. “Or maybe you’d enjoy a nice walk home?”

“After I got up early, out of the goodness of my own heart, and trekked over here to help you?” I shake my head in mock horror. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Only to you,” he says, narrowing his eyes. He turns the key and slips the car into reverse. “But really, I am sorry I fucked up your day.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” I admit. I haven’t even told him my news yet—partially because I don’t want to swoon over Aaron in front of him. He’d never stop giving me shit for it.

“Four hours sitting around waiting for me to finish and it wasn’t all bad?” he questions me, eyeing me suspiciously. “You met a dude, didn’t you?”

“No,” I scoff. My face heats up and he smiles knowingly. I hate how transparent

I am. I’m like an open book. I’d make the worst spy. “Professor Jameson wants me to apply for a special internship.”

“Really? Who’s it with?” he asks, slowing to make a stop sign.

“One of the top criminal defence lawyers in the country.” I grin. “Can you believe it? I’m not getting my hopes up, because there are a heap of students applying and I probably won’t get it, but I’ll at least get to meet the guy.”

“Does this maestro have a name?” he asks, glancing sideways at me.

I ignore his less-than-impressed tone. “Aaron Wilmot.”

“Aaron Wilmot? What’s so great about him?” Lucas asks, his voice sullen. “He seems like a giant cockhead if you ask me.”

“Oh, and you’ve met him?” I ask sweetly, knowing the answer is no.

“I’ve seen enough of the guy on TV to know he’s a giant cockhead,” he mutters.

“Cockhead or not, he’s incredible at what he does,” I point out. “Which is why I’m excited about this.”

“So why is he interested in you?”

I raise my eyebrows and Lucas’s face flames.

“That came out wrong. I meant that you’re not studying law. What does he want with a forensic psychology major?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admit. That bit has me stumped too. I mean, I’m not complaining and I know I’ll learn a lot from him, but why would he bother with someone like me? “Professor Jameson thinks it’s a great opportunity and so do I. Why are you trying to drag me down?” I ask. I’m annoyed and a little bit hurt at his reaction. I thought he was the one person I could count on to be happy for me. Guess I was wrong.