From Butt to Booty by Amber Kizer Read Free Book Online Page A

have anything to say about it.
    “True.”
    “Point.”
    “Confession time.” Clarice chews on her lips like they’re part of the menu.
    “Shoot.” I’m ready. Confess away. My heart will stop popping anytime now. At least they didn’t laugh. They could have laughed. I would have laughed at me.
    “Spenser wants to be benefriends.”
    “Benefriends?” Oh, Holy-Mother-of-Euphemisms, what is she talking about?
    Clarice raises her eyebrows and does a little shoulder seizure. “You know.”
    “Of course I know.” What the hell are benefriends?
    “What do you think?”
    Maggie starts making clucking sounds.
    “You have something stuck? Need me to practice the TV hindlick maneuver?” Clarice waggles her tongue in Maggie’s direction.
    When the laughter dies down, we all keep giggling.
    Clarice picks at her blanket. “I’m serious here.”
    “I know you are.” Best to reassure and tell her I’m in agreement. Oh, and ask questions. “What do you want?”
    “I’m asking you guys.”
    Bad, bad idea.
    Maggie clucks again.
    “What is your problem?” I try my most potent fake glare.
    “Well …”
    “What?” Clarice yanks a strip of red licorice from the bag sitting next to her and chews furiously.
    “My grandmother always talks about cows and milk when this comes up,” says Maggie.
    “Huh?” Now I’m really lost. Benefriends is a farm animal thing? “What is Spenser into?”
    “Kissing and stuff.” Clarice waves her hands. She obviously doesn’t know either. “Your grandmother knows what friends with benefits are?”
    “Oh!” I blurt out my comprehension, but they ignore me.
That’s
what benefriends are. Who knew? Obviously not me.
    “Yeah, she watches all those
Dateline/Primetime/48 Hours/Access Hollywood
shows on teens. She wants to stay with the times and speak my lingo.” Maggie sighs.
    “Uh-huh. And she mentions cows?”
    “She likes them. They always come up in conversation. You should see her bedroom. Spots and udders everywhere.”
    That explains a lot.
    Maggie shrugs. “But can you? Really not get emotionally attached, I mean? What did he say exactly?”
    Clarice turns over onto her back and stares at the ceiling. “He said he likes me, but he’s not ready for a relationship and wouldn’t it be great to kiss and stuff without the pressure of dating.”
    “The pressure of dating? Was he high?”
    “No, he doesn’t do that kind of thing. I don’t think.”
    Clearly, Clarice and Spenser are completely honest about every aspect of their lives. Two more perfectly attuned human beings would be difficult to find.
    “And you
want
to be benefriends?” I need some adultish guidance here on what to say. If I asked my mom, she’d wonder how friends could qualify for health insurance or 401(k) plans.
    “I—well, he said he’s not ready for a relationship now, right?” Clarice asks.
    “Apparently.”
    “So he didn’t say he didn’t want to have a relationship with me.”
    “True.” I’m having a hard time not shaking her back into one of Earth’s orbits.
    “So doesn’t that mean that eventually he’ll want to be my boyfriend?”
    “Maybe.” Is there a correct answer to this one?
    Her face falls all the way back to terra firma.
    I change my answer. “Of course he wants to be your boyfriend.”
    She brightens. “It’ll take some time, but how could he not want to be together? Especially when we fall madly in love. Then we’ll be exclusive, and so this is like a warm-up for that.”
    Maggie clears her throat. I wonder if she has weird nasal allergies or something. “What if he doesn’t—” She breaks off when Clarice’s eyes well with tears.
    “Why wouldn’t he want to be my boyfriend? Am I that repulsive?”
    “Clarice, of course not. You’re not repulsive. If I was gay, I’d totally want to date you,” I say.
    “Really?” She seems to find comfort in this.
    “Honestly.” In the friends-sometimes-have-to-lie-to-each-other sense of the word