E.N.E.M.Y.

E is for ERROR

(It also stands for endless kisses in the back of Jace’s pickup truck)

Courtney: Back Then

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I’M STANDING IN FRONT of my bathroom mirror re-applying my make-up for the umpteenth time in a row. My parents have (shockingly) agreed to let me go out tonight since they feel bad about me missing out on the first quarter of Blue Harbor High’s social events. Then again, they must not feel too bad because they told me that they expect me to be back home at nine-thirty. (Oh, and they’re still “disappointed” in me for breaking into the school pool.)

Am I supposed to use bubblegum pink or soft pink to create the natural lip look?

Frustrated with the lipstick, I picked up my phone and called Genevieve.

“Hey there, Court!” She answers on the first ring. “Where the hell have you been lately?”

“Same places as always. School, detention, home, repeat.”

“You left out all the hanging out with Jace parts.” She laughs. “I’ve seen you with him a lot lately.”

“Because he’s in detention with me.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She paused. “So what’s been up?”

I start to tell her that Jace is taking me out tonight on my first real date, but something tells me not to. Ever since she botched my debate practice notes request, I’ve been keeping her at arm’s length—waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk one-on-one. But between school, detention, and the nonstop hours I spend talking on the phone to Jace every night, there really hasn’t been any time for me to talk to Genevieve. 

She hasn’t really called me that much either...

“I was calling because I was wondering if you could come over and help me with my make-up,” I say. “And maybe we could catch up for a little bit?”

“I can’t, Court.” Her voice is suddenly soft. “You haven’t heard?”

“My parents caught me and my college boyfriend out at the movies the other night. I’m grounded until they can think of a better way they can punish me.”

“Oh...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I guess all the trouble I’ve been getting into these past couple of years was bound to catch up to me at some point, right?”

Even though I absolutely agree, I don’t mention it.  Instead, I say, “Well, I’ll stop by after I get out of detention tomorrow. You want me to bring you anything?”

“Not at all, but I’ll definitely help you with your makeup tomorrow.”

“Okay, great. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I end the call and try to finish the make-up the best way I can.

Just when I’m putting on the last of the mascara, my mom steps into the bathroom.

“You look pretty.” She smiles. “Are you really going out with your debate team tonight or are you hanging out with Jace?”

I drop the mascara tube into the sink. “What?”

“You heard me.” She sips her coffee. “Is tonight’s outing, the one that you begged us for, really with your debate team or Jace?”

I don’t answer. I haven’t uttered a word about Jace to my mom, and I’m not sure how she even knows his name.

“Courtney?” She smiles again. “Is tonight about Jace?”

“We’re not having sex...”

“What?” She laughs. “That’s not what I asked you, but good to know. Is he taking you out tonight?”

I nod. “yes.” And then I wait for it—the grand ole take-back, the “you weren’t honest and now you can’t go” speech. Then I mentally prepare myself for another night of watching Law & Order in my room.

“Well, I’m glad to finally hear about him from you.” She doesn’t look upset at all.

“Genevieve told you?”

“No, Jace did.”

This is a trick. “When was this?”

“He stopped by yesterday during dinner, while you were out celebrating the final debate match with the team. He introduced himself to your dad and me, and then he insisted that you were the best friend he’s ever had. He said you two have been spending a lot of time studying together on the weekends.”

So, she doesn’t know he’s been sentenced to Saturday detention as well...

“He mentioned how you two met in detention, and after seeing his charm for all of an hour—” She smiles, fanning herself. “I can see why you like him. He’s a very attractive young man, and I think his intentions are good. I think it’s also clear that he’s over the moon for you.”

“Over the what?”

“I mean, I can tell he really likes you.”

“Oh.” I blush.

“You should invite him over for dinner sometime. Any guy your dad doesn’t immediately hate is a winner in my book,” she said. Then she lowers her voice. “I have a good feeling about him, but as always be careful.”

“We’re really not having sex.”

Laughing, she places her hand on my shoulder. “Would you like me to re-show you the banana-condom trick just in case you start thinking about it?”

“No.” Once was bad enough.

“I thought so.” She hugs me. “I trust you to make good decisions—well, minus the breaking into the school pool thing you did.” She steps into the hallway. “Make sure you’re back by nine-thirty and make sure you leave some time in your day to hang out with your other best friend, Genevieve.”

I say okay and wait until she walks away. My mom has never said it, but she doesn’t like Genevieve. She just tolerates here and always masks her dislike with a simple, “I can’t pick all your friends.”

An hour later, Jace is ringing the doorbell downstairs with a box of my favorite brownies (flowers are so cliché). My dad beats me to the door, and he wastes twenty minutes of precious date time by asking Jace to give him a hand with our dishwasher.

When he’s finally done, Jace takes my hand and walks me to his pickup truck right outside. He opens the door for me like always, and he manages to drive for a full five minutes before he realizes I’m glaring at him.

“What?” He has the audacity to smile. “Is something wrong?”

“You told my parents about us? Behind my back?”

“I did.” He laughs. “Clearly.”

“But why?”

“Because you still hadn’t done it.”

“I was planning to, Jace. I was just giving it time.”

“It’s been three months.” He looked over at me as we approach a red light. “Plus, if everyone at school knows that we’re practically together, then your parents should probably know, too.”

“Did you tell your parents?”

“I did.”

“When?”

“Months ago,” he says, and I don’t bother asking anything else. I’ve spoken to his mother after detention on numerous occasions, and she’s always been extremely nice to me. She’s always whispered to him when she thought I couldn’t hear, “Finally, a girl I actually like.”

“I think I deserve an apology for this sudden and utter betrayal,” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “In the law books, there’s a name for what you did: blindsiding the witness.”

“No, it’d be turning over all applicable evidence for a fair and balanced trial. But good try, Counselor Ryan.”

“You’ve been watching more legal movies?”

“I have.” He smiles. “How about a sundae for your brownies instead of an apology?”

“Accepted.”

He drives up the street to Blue Harbor Creamery and parks in the first space. As he’s asking me what I want on my sundae, I stop dead in my tracks.

I blink a few times, to make sure that what I’m seeing is real. Genevieve is sitting in a booth in the back—rubbing her hands all over her boyfriend’s chest. She’s laughing as all her other “friends” take seats on the other side of her.

“She told me she was grounded,” I whisper to Jace. “I asked her to come over and help me with my make-up and she...” I sigh. “She lied to me like it was nothing. Again.”

Jace grabs my hand and whispers into my ear. “Do you want to leave?”

“Not yet.” I pull out my phone and send Genevieve a text message.

ME: Hey! Just wanted to say sorry to hear about you getting grounded over your boyfriend. How are you staying busy tonight?”

I stare at her as she looks at her phone, as she taps the screen and texts me right back.

GENEVIEVE: Thanks, bestie! I’m currently watching Netflix and drinking coffee. It’s not too bad. PS—Did you get the notes I sent from your final debate practices last week? I tried to take a clearer pic this time!

I feel my blood boiling as I read over the last line in her message. She has no idea that I know she really hasn’t been taking my debate practice notes, and that she left me weeks behind without a single care.

Livid, I walk away from Jace and storm over to where Genevieve’s booth is.

“You are a lying, conniving, manipulative bitch,” I say. “I can’t believe I was ever friends with you.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” She stands to her feet and moves closer to me. “What’s gotten into you, Court?”

“Courtney. My friends call me Court, so please refrain from using that term with me.”

“Oh?” She smiles, crossing her arms as her friends break out in Ohhs and Ahhhs behind her. “I see you’ve been reading one too many of your ‘I want to be a lawyer’ books today, and you’re using it on me. How very cute. Juvenile, but cute.” She steps closer and leans forward, whispering under her breath. “Stop whatever this charade is right now, or I’ll tell everyone here how much of a slut you are and how you gave it up to Sam after only knowing him for a few weeks. No guy wants some girl who was fucked the way you were, and who knows how many other guys you’ve been with since that night. I can guarantee that Jace will drop you fast as hell once I tell him that the goodie-goodie he thinks he’s dating is a world-class—”

“Fuck you, Genevieve.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through and the shop becomes completely silent. “FUCK. YOU.”

I step past her and look at all her so-called “friends,” the people I only tolerated because she swore to me that they were “cool.”

“Just a fair warning to all of you,” I said. “If you think Genevieve will be loyal, you’re sadly mistaken. I was her best friend—supposedly, and she’s been lying to me since day one.”

Then I step back and look Genevieve right into her deceiving hazel eyes. “If Mr. Thompson had threatened me with a suspension or expulsion, would you have owned up to everything that happened that night?”

She doesn’t answer, and the look on her face tells me everything I need to know. And I also know that if I don’t handle this now, I’ll never be able to claim that I care about seeing people get the true justice they deserve.

“You have until Monday to tell Mr. Thompson you were involved in the pool incident. You need to tell him that you baited me into it at the last minute because your so-called friends were driving drunk and you wanted someone sober to be there.” I cross my arms. “You’re also going to tell him that you were too chicken shit to call 9-1-1, and if it had been left up to you, you would’ve left Brynn there dead that night and made up some story about how he got there.”

Brynn, who is sitting on the edge of the booth, gasps and stands to his feet. He slams his glass onto the table and storms out of the café.

“And after you get done doing that, I never want to hear from you again,” I say.

“Oh, you’ll never have to worry about hearing from me again.” She hisses. “But what makes you think that I’m going to do anything you say? That I’m going to own up to any of these lies you’re accusing me of?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll just tell Mr. Thompson everything else you’ve done this year, and if necessary, I’ll tell him what you did last year as well.”

She raises her eyebrow, calling my bluff.

“Like this year, how the school’s fire alarm has gone off six times. How it conveniently goes off anytime there’s a pop quiz in your French class, one you haven’t studied for.”

Her cheeks redden.

“Or how you and your college friends are the ones who spiked the punch at the homecoming party that got half of all the football players sick. The one I missed out on because I was at home, grounded because of you. Then again, I guess I could take the personal route and tell your current college boyfriend that he’s not your only college boyfriend. I could walk down that road with you as well.”

Her boyfriend’s jaw drops, and she whispers, “Please stop. Now. I get it.”

“Those are just a few things I can think of off the top of my head. I’ll have a list of twenty by Monday if you haven’t spoken to Mr. Thompson.” I turn away from her for what I hope will be the last time, ignoring the stunned silence from all the patrons.

Jace wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me out of the café. Before helping me into his truck, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me until I can’t breathe.

“Good job,” he whispers. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a lawyer someday.”

“You heard what I said?”

“Everyone heard what you said.” He kisses me. “She’s had that shit coming for a very long time.”

“Did you hear any of what she said to me?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.” I let out a breath, completely relieved. “Good.” I turn away to get into the truck, but he blocks me and spins me around to face him again.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“Courtney.” He trails my lips with his finger. “What did she say?”

“You’ll dump me if I tell you.”

“I highly doubt that.” He smiles. “Tell me.”

I swallow. “If we ever have sex, you won’t be my first. I did it with this other guy over the summer, but I didn’t like it, and I didn’t want him to do it. Genevieve and I made a pact to lose our V-cards the same night, but she backed out without telling me, so...She promised not to tell anyone that I was a slut since I gave it up to a guy I barely knew. She threatened to tell you.”

He blinks.

“Are you going to take me back home now?”

“No.” A smile spreads across his face. “We’re going to finish this date now.”

“None of what I said bothers you?”

He shakes his head. “Only the part about you having to deal with a terrible-ass best friend.”

“Oh...So, if we ever have sex—” I pause. “Wait. Are you still a virgin?”

He looks as if he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “No, Courtney. I’m not.”

“How many girls have you—”

My sentence ends on his lips, and my hands find their way to his hair—just like they always do whenever he starts to kiss me for what feels like forever.

When he finally pulls away from my mouth, he whispers, “If we ever have sex, it’ll be my first time doing it with someone I care about.” He kisses me one last time and opens the car door for me. “Come on. We’ve only got one hour and forty-five-minutes left before your nine-thirty curfew.”