Relationship With My Boyfriends Best Friend

Chapter 1.

"Psst..." I swat at the voice beside my ear. "You did not just try and swat me?"

My eyes open right away, only for my head to fly up and hit another. "Ow!"

The person that was just on top of me falls to the floor, a loud thump filling the room.

Placing my hand on the bump that is sure to form, I sit up and look down at my best friend who is staring at the ceiling in shock. I glare at her.

"Braylee," I growl, she slowly looks over at me only to smile. "What the actual heck is wrong with you?"

She rolls her eyes and stands up. "Hell."

"Excuse me?" I narrow my eyes at her, in a bad mood already due to the massive pain in my skull. Leave it to Braylee to injure me at nearly six o'clock in the morning.

"What the actual hell is wrong with me," she says, heading to my mirror. "Not heck."

I scoff. "Don't tell me what to say."

She sticks her tongue out at me and I return the gesture. Nice, nearly seventeen years old and we're still sticking tongues out at each other.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I ask, searching through my drawers for something to wear to school. It'll be no different than what I wear everyday.

"My mom and dad were up to some...activities," she cringes and I pull a face. "So I snuck in your window last night."

"What about your sister?" I turn to her. "Did you just leave her to fend for herself? Or your brother?"

"Who cares about Baylee," she rolls her eyes. "And Brendan went to some frat party last night and never came home."

"And you aren't I don't know - worried about that?" I question.

"Nah, he's smart."

Oh. I'm not sure if she means smart as in he knows not to do anything bad, or that he's smart that he didn't come home to their parents - doing stuff. I've heard all the horror stories about their parents, and not saying my own don't do the same thing, but they're a little more discrete.

"Enough about me," she sits Indian style on my bed while I gather my things for a shower. "How long did Eric stay after the dinner?"

Every Sunday everyone from immediate family comes over for a big dinner after church. My boyfriend of three years, Eric Beets, always joins along with his family. He always stays a bit after everyone leaves, but usually it's in the living room or out in the back. We just talk.

"An hour or so," I shrug and furrow my eyebrows. I swear I put my promise ring on this dresser.

"Did you guys kiss?" Braylee wiggles her eyebrows and I glare at her. She knows by now that Eric and I aren't like that.

It's kind of complicated to say the least, but we're very old fashioned and traditional. It's more of a courting relationship, but we're allowed to hold hands, hug, and go out by ourselves. And when we do kiss, it's not the way that Braylee is used to.

My best friend - cousin - is promptly adjusted to making out with random guys at parties and such, but not once have Eric and I gotten that far. We both know that hormones play a huge role in our actions, so making out could lead to other things that we are saving for marriage.

"Of course not," I say, my eyes widening when I finally find my ring. The ring that Eric gave me last year to promise our relationship forever. It's beautiful, I never miss that fact.