CHAPTER FOUR

"You're cheating on Michael? With Jackson Harper?" My best friend Miranda's eyes widened to the size of lemons as she cupped both hands over her mouth. We were sitting in Frank's Bar and Grill, where most teenagers from Bradford hung out before ten, when the bar would open and everyone underage would get kicked out.

"Shh, not so loud!" I kicked her underneath the table. I knew there were bound to be more than a few people we knew around, and I wouldn't know what to do if they overheard our conversation. I couldn't begin to imagine how I would get myself out of that.

"Okay, okay. I just can't believe it. Why? How? Since when?"

Her eyes practically bugged out of her face as she asked me questions. Normally, I tell Miranda everything. We have never kept any secrets from each other, but this time I felt I needed to wait. She tends to make a big deal about things, and I knew that if I told her this before, I would never hear the end of it.

"Two months ago." I revealed quietly.

She raised her left eyebrow. "And you never told me?"

"I never told anyone, Miranda. But I'm telling you now."

She rolled my words around and her head, and I guess she didn't care about how long I kept it from her, because she started right back up with the questions again.

"Why Jackson? Don't you think he's just using you?" 

She flipped her black hair over her shoulder; Sometimes it made me jealous because she was absolutely gorgeous, with pretty light blue eyes and an outstanding sense of style. I always wondered why she didn't have a ton of boyfriends. Lots of guys would die to date her. But Miranda was never the type to get wrapped up in relationships.

"No, I mean, he was there for me when Michael and I started fighting. I don't know how it happened. He's so cute, it's unbelievable. Sweet, too. He just gets me, you know?" I took a sip of my peach iced tea and stared off into the distance.

I kept thinking about the night before, when I finally told him I love him back. Part of me was in an extreme state of happiness, but the rest of me wondered if he was just a rebound for all of the hurt Michael put me through in the past few months. I pushed that aside, knowing what we had together was real.

It was an unbreakable amount of silence before I could feel the tension about to end.

Miranda cracked up. "Do you know what you're saying?"

I looked at her, a little confused. "Huh?"

"You sound like one of those lovestruck girls in the movies, when they fall in love with some dreamy poet and start acting all weird talking about how 'he's the only one that really gets her' and all of that mumbo jumbo. It's kind of funny, actually."

"Miranda!" I shook my head. "It's not like that."

At least I don't think it's like that.

"Do you love him?"

"I think so."

"Yes, it's definitely like that."

She smiled, and pushed her salad around with her fork as she picked at the croutons and left all the green things alone in the bowl. She was funny like that; She would buy a salad but wouldn't eat the lettuce. Or she'd get spaghetti just to eat the meatballs. Nobody could describe her in one word. 'Interesting' wasn't even the half of it.

"So did you -- you know..." 

Her lips curled up in a smile. This was the question I knew was coming; Miranda had a perverted mind and somehow always turned a decent conversation sexual. 

"I can't share that information with you." 

"You did, didn't you? How was it?"

That, I definitely wasn't going to tell her about yet. It was private, not something I was willing to share so easily. Of course, it was great. More than great, to be honest. And if I really wanted to go into detail, I would. But seeing as it's none of anyone's business, I'd rather not.

I rolled my eyes. "Eat your croutons, and be quiet."