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Just Friends by Tiffany Pitcock
Published by: Swoon Reads
Publication date: August 1st 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
A new spin on the classic smart-girl-and-bad-boy setup, this witty contemporary romance shows how easily a friendship – even one built on an elaborate lie – can become so much more.
Jenny meets Chance for the very first time when she is assigned as his partner in their Junior Oral Communications class. But after they rescue a doomed assignment with one clever lie, the whole school is suddenly convinced that Little-Miss-Really-Likes-Having-A’s and the most scandalous heartbreaker in school have been best friends forever. It’s amazing how quickly a lie can grow―especially when you really, really want it to be the truth.
With Jenny, Chance can live the normal life he’s always kind of wanted. And with Chance, Jenny can have the exciting teen experiences that TV shows and movies have always promised. Through it all, they hold on to the fact that they are “just friends.” But that might be the biggest lie of all.
Debut author Tiffany Pitcock delivers a spot-on depiction of first love and the high school rumor mill in Just Friends, chosen by readers like you for Macmillan’s young adult imprint Swoon Reads.
Excerpt:
“Fine, what’s my dare?”
She pointed to the trampoline out to the right of the yard by the fence. It looked like an old thing, they had decided that they had spent many summer nights bouncing and laughing, sun bathing and sleeping, but they had never actually gotten on it. Dead leaves curled up on it and the springs squeaked from disuse. “Get on that.”
Chance agreed, grabbing Jenny’s hand as he passed, helping her down. “You too,” he said, dragging her with him. He hopped up on the edge, releasing her hand to take off his shoes.
“That’s a metal deathtrap.” Jenny shook her head. “I’m not getting on that. Jackie isn’t even allowed on it after last summer.”
“And yet you want me on it? Rude.” He tossed one shoe to the ground. “How about neither of us jumps? We’ll lie out like we used to in our fake past.” The other shoe dropped, disappearing into the dying grass.
Finally, she jumped up beside him – kicking off her own flats to join him. He was crawling towards the middle, sprawled out on the dead leaves. They were already clinging to his hair like magnets. After a moment, she moved to lie with him.
“How is this a dare, again?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“One wrong move and this whole thing could snap. We could be dead in seconds.”
Chance doubted that. “You’re being overdramatic, Jenny.”
They laid in silence for a while; both watching the clouds pass by until Chance’s eyelids felt heavy and he had to fight to keep them up. It had been almost two weeks since he’d had a decent night’s sleep, with his parents and their screaming. Jenny’s head still rested on his shoulder and he could feel her breath on his neck. It was warm, relaxing…
It seemed like only seconds had passed when he opened his eyes to find the sun was setting. Jenny’s head was on his chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath he took. He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. Her eyes were shut, her eyelashes fluttering. They both must’ve dozed off. His hand rested on the small of her back, her warmth radiating through the fabric of her shirt.
He reached up and pushed her hair from her face. He wanted to kiss her.
“Jenny, wake up,” he carefully nudged her awake.
She groggily opened her eyes, “Wha?”
“We dozed off,” he told her.
She sat up, picking dried leaves off her shirt. “Oh, damn. I hope Jack’s taking care of Jessa.”
He sat up too, an idea forming. “It’s my turn, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Huh?” she turned back to look at him, a few leaves still tangled in her brown hair.
“The Day of Dares,” He reminded her. “It’s my turn to issue a dare.”
“Oh, I suppose so.”
“I’ve got a dare for you,” he leaned forward, blonde hair tumbling into his eyes.
She scooted across the trampoline to him. “What kind?”
He reached out and grabbed her hands. “I dare you to kiss me.”
23. Writer. Reader. Sarcastic.
I was born and raised in Arkansas, which isn’t terribly exciting. I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I used to sit in class and write stories in my notebooks, thinking that everyone did. It turns out, everyone didn’t. I love writing because it means I’m putting my thoughts, feelings, and soul out there for someone else to read – for someone else to feel. The fact that someone can read my words, and empathize with my characters – characters that wouldn’t exist with out me, that I created from my mind – is such a wonderful concept to me. I could happily write for the rest of my life as long as there was one person out there who was affected by my words.
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