“Bully.” I made a face and she grinned.

“You’re a mess, Rhett Madison.”

“You’re a bigger mess, Clementine O’Hara.” I grinned at her and showed her my perfect white teeth and dimple.

“You can’t charm your way with me, Mr. Madison.” She batted her eyelashes at me and I bowed my head.

“But I sure can try.” I pretended to lift off a pretend top hat and she laughed.

“Shh.” She pressed play on the remote and the maids came back on screen. I leaned back and tried to understand what she saw in the show, but my mind started drifting within a few minutes. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked my text messages. There was a message from Jackie asking if I was busy and if I wanted to watch a movie. I knew exactly what that meant. She wanted to move on from lap dances to the real thing. I tried to picture her face, but all I could remember was her rubbing her smaller-than-I-normally-liked br**sts across my face. I deleted the text and put the phone back in my pocket. I had a rule that I never let a girl interrupt one-on-one time with Clemmie. I’d created the rule in high school when I’d nearly destroyed our relationship by flaking on her one too many Friday nights to take random girls out to the movies at the last moment. I could still remember the flash of anger in Clementine’s eyes as she’d accused me of taking her for granted.

“I don’t know about you, Rhett, but I would never put a date in front of my best friend.” She’d fumed, her eyes sparking darts at me.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” I’d muttered, annoyed that she was getting angry.

“This is the fourth time you’ve ditched me at the last moment to go on a date.” She’d counted her fingers. “And it’s the last time. You will not do this to me again. I’m not some second-class girl, just because I’m your friend.”

“I never said you were second-class.” I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. Girls!

“You didn’t have to say it. That’s how you’ve been treating me.” Her finger had poked me in the chest as she pushed her shoulders back. “This is the last time. The next time you ditch me at the last minute will be the last time you call me your best friend.” Her words had been melodramatic and slightly over-the-top, but they’d scared me. I couldn’t imagine a life without Clementine being there for me. I’d rolled my eyes at her and pretended that I thought she was being over-the-top, but I had never ditched her at the last moment again.

“Oh my god, that was crazy.” Clementine’s squeals distracted me from my thoughts. “I totally didn’t see that coming. Do you think he’s going to kill her?”

“Um, I guess?” I mumbled and gave her a smile.

“You weren’t watching, were you?”

“Truth or Lie?” I grinned and watched her jump off of the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Getting some water. Want some?”

“I’d rather have a beer.”

“Fine. Hold on.” I watched her walk out of the bedroom and looked around the room. It was small, but it was totally Clementine. It was decorated in blues and greens and there were at least fifteen framed photographs on the walls. I grinned as I saw one of us at Disney from the previous summer. I jumped up off of the bed and looked at the different photos that chronicled our friendship. They brought back so many happy memories. I walked around the room and looked at all the photos and then frowned. There was a photo of Clementine and I at my eighth birthday party. It was a picture of us cutting my cake together and my mom and dad were standing behind us grinning. I stared at the photo for a few seconds and then turned around. What a farce that had been. We’d looked like such a happy family. Only we were anything but that. My dad’s smile had hidden his affair with his secretary. It was so clichéd it wasn’t even funny. And my mom, well, my mom was the biggest liar of all. Her smile hid her alcohol problem. And it hid the fact that she didn’t give two shits about me. She’d walked away from me and my dad just a few years later and never looked back. She didn’t care about me and she didn’t care about our family.

“Okay, I’m back. I decided to have a beer as well.” Clemmie walked into the room grinning. “I know, I know, you’re shocked. We have class tomorrow and I’m drinking, but after the week I’ve had, I deserve a drink.” She paused and handed me the bottle and then looked in my face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She frowned and studied my face.

“Nothing.” I grabbed the beer and took a long swig. The bitter cold taste felt welcome in my mouth and throat.

“Nothing like ‘nothing’, or nothing like ‘I’m not going to talk about it’?” She took a step closer and peered into my eyes. I looked away from her. I wasn’t in the mood for her to do her body intuition tests. Clemmie figured she could tell my mood just from staring into my eyes or studying my body language. It annoyed the shit out of me. Sometimes a man just needed to be a man. That was the problem with having a girl for a best friend. They wanted to talk through everything. She wouldn’t let things go and she always needed to know what my real feelings were. Sometimes I just wanted to tell her to leave me the f**k alone, but I knew how sensitive she was to just about everything, so I’d resisted so far.

“I’m fine.” I plopped down on the bed and grabbed the remote. “I’m going to see what’s on ESPN, cool?”

“That’s fine.” She sat on the bed next to me. “What happened in the three minutes that passed when I went to the kitchen?”

“Nothing.” I grunted and stared at the screen.

“You are so annoying.” She groaned and stood up. “Let me think, you were standing over here.” She walked over to the side of her bedroom and looked around, her face deep in concentration. I tried to ignore her, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching her. There was something about Clementine that you couldn’t ignore. Especially when she was wearing her cheerleader shorts. I knew that it was wrong of me to stare at her legs as hard as I was, but I couldn’t help myself. She looked at me then and her eyes narrowed. My breath caught as she stared at me. Had she realized I was staring at her bare legs? They seemed so much longer than I remembered. And tanner too. Had she been laying out?

“What?” I frowned as she continued staring at me.

“Shh. I’m thinking.” She stared at me and then looked around again. She looked at the wall and then stopped in front of the photo I’d been staring at. I froze as I realized she’d figured it out. I was upset because I’d been looking at a photo of my mother. How clichéd was I? Typical man with mommy issues. I waited for her to bring it up and start the conversation about my mother. I lay there staring at the ceiling, waiting for her to broach the subject. It was inevitable. Clementine was one for getting everything out in the open. “So, what do you want to do?” She walked back over to the bed and I stared at her through narrowed eyes.

“Huh?” I watched as she joined me on the bed again.

“What shall we do?” She smiled at me and took a swig of her beer and grimaced. I wasn’t sure why she drank beer, as she hated the taste of it.

“What do you want to do?” I sat up, suddenly feeling relaxed again. “And please don’t say you want to give me a lap dance. I’m not sure I can handle two in one night.”

“You wish.” She rolled her eyes at me and I laughed. I looked down at her long legs again for a brief second and looked away.

“Not particularly, I can’t imagine you’d be very good.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice rose.

“I mean that’s not a bad thing.” I gave her my signature Rhett smile. “It’s just a fact. You don’t really know much about moving your hips.”

“You’re an asshole.” She shook her head.

“Better an as**ole than depressed, right?” I winked at her and I watched as her eyes softened.

“If you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here, right?” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it softly.

“I’m fine, Clemmie.”

“I know. You da man, Rhett. You’re stronger than He-Man.”

“I’m glad you recognize it.” I took another long chug of the beer.

“Wanna watch a movie?” She put her beer bottle down on the bedside table and lay down.

“As long as it’s not a chick flick.” I lay back next to her and I felt our shoulders rubbing together.

“I can’t promise that there are no chickens in the movie.” She switched the screen to Netflix.

“Can you at least promise that no chickens were hurt in the process of making the movie?” I joked.

“I can promise that I wasn’t hurt in the process of making the movie.”

“Well, that’s good.” I said seriously and we both laughed.

“Okay, what shall we watch?” She flicked through the titles and paused. “What about this?”

“’Date Night’?” I read the title on the screen. “Pass.”

“It’s got Steve Carrell.”

“He’s not funny.”

“Fine.” She groaned and paused again. “What about this?”

“Are you joking?” I gave her a crazy look. “No way in hell am I watching a movie called ‘Beauty and the Briefcase’.”

“You don’t appreciate fine art,” she mumbled and I started laughing.

“You’re not seriously trying to suggest that a movie called Beauty and the Briefcase is a work of art, are you?” I glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “Next thing you’ll be saying is that ‘Zack and Miri Make a Porno’ should have won an Oscar.”

“Very funny, Rhett.” She shook her head at me, but I could see a hint of a smile on her face.

“Would you make a porno?” I asked her thoughtfully as she continued flicking through the movies.

“What?” She looked at me like I was crazy. “Hell no.”

“Just asking. No need to bite my head off.”

“Would you make a porno?”

“No.” I shook my head and then grinned. “I’d make a sex tape though.”

“Rhett.” She groaned. “Of course you would.”

“Come on now. Don’t knock it.” I laughed. “I think it would be pretty hot to watch me getting it on.”

“I wouldn’t be watching it.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” I laughed and stared at her. “I don’t have any secrets from you.”

“That’s one secret I wouldn’t mind you keeping.”

“So you wouldn’t watch my sex tape?”

“Hell no.” She shuddered. “Would you want to watch mine?”

“I don’t know.” I muttered and felt a pang of something in my stomach even thinking about it. “Likely not.” I frowned at her, images of her in bed ha**g s*x with someone crossing through my mind. “That would be gross.”

“It’s gross for me to have a sex tape, but not for you?” She crossed her legs and I watched as her shorts rode even higher up her thighs.

“Let’s not talk about sex tapes.” I grabbed the remote from her. “Let me find a movie.”

“Hey,” She squealed. “I was looking.”

“You’re being too slow.”

“No, I wasn’t. I only paused because you asked me a question.”

“Well, I’m not asking any questions right now.” I kept scrolling. “Hey, what about ‘The Expendables’?”

“Nope,” she exclaimed immediately.

“Fine.” I sighed. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” She retorted.

“Dude, Sly Stallone’s in it.”

“Dude, I’m not a dude and I don’t care about Rambo or Rocky or whoever he was.”

“He was Rambo and Rocky.”

“Whatever.” She laughed. “He could have been Barney for all I care. Not interested.”

“What about ‘The Transporter’.” I stopped and grinned at her. “This is a good one. I’ve seen it already.”

“No thanks.” She shook her head and we stared at each other for a few seconds in silence.

“You’re so difficult.” I said finally and she reached over and tried to grab the remote back from me. “Stop.” I held the remote up high as she grabbed my arm.

“Rhett.” She moved over and kneeled next to me. “Give me the remote.”

“Nope.” I laughed as she tried to pull my arm down.

“Rhett.” She said my name in a softer tone now. “Please.”

“Nope.” I grinned and pushed her away.

“Rhett!” Her voice was more adamant and she grabbed my arm with both of her hands. “Come on.” She moved even closer to me and I felt her br**sts pressing lightly against my shoulder.

Knock knock.

“What’s going on in here?” Linda walked through the door without waiting for an answer.

“Hey Linda.” Clementine moved away from me slightly. “I’m just trying to get the remote from Rhett. We’re about to watch a movie.”

“In your room?” Linda looked at the two of us and her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Clementine answered her, not noticing the look Linda was giving us.