Amongst Friends, With Friends Like These...

Amongst Friends, With Friends Like These…

Published by Jacqui Spence

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Jacqui Spence

Discover other titles by Jacqui Spence: No Longer Friends

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

We Be Friends

What happens amongst friends should stay…amongst friends! That’s an easy rule to follow when your friends are all female or all male. But there are some things that just shouldn’t happen between friends like lies, betrayal and murder. However, when you’re the only female hanging around four men, things are bound to happen that can test friendships.

Most people think love and sex fall under the same equation. More often than not, people will do anything for love and when sex is mistaken for love, anything can happen. It’s been said many times by many people that ‘All’s fair in love and war’…but is it really? And if so, what is it that makes love so unfair? What is it about a woman that would make men both loyal and disloyal to one another…and sometimes both at the same time?

Angel with a broken halo

My name is Angela. My friends call me Angel. Maybe it’s my innocence that shines through or maybe that’s the side of me that everyone chooses to see. I have the uncanny ability to get any man to bend to my will. It’s not always on purpose, but when I’m working it, yeah, I know what I’m doing. At 5’4", I’m a dark-skinned cutie with a whole lot of booty and a lot of attitude to match. I’m so top heavy that if I lean over too far, I’d topple over. And it’s all natural. I’m also a woman of many exes and that adds to the mystique; I’m an ex-soldier, ex-model, ex-banker and I have an ex-husband.

Women hate me because men adore me. I’m often described by two words, curvaceous and flirtatious. I’m very friendly and I’m always smiling, which seems to be a good thing but somehow, women sometimes see my happiness as a weakness. This is why, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always enjoyed being around men more than women. I guess you can say I like the attention. My guys and I have been the best of friends for a very long time.

So what is it about the guys that makes me want to hang around them? There’s James, or JT, as we call him. He’s the leader of our group; if there is a leader. We’re all drawn to his charisma and animal magnetism. He’s the one we all want to be around. Mr. Smooth, Mr. Cool, Mr. Funny. We laugh all night long, just being around him. He’s my very best friend. My boy is charming as hell. You can even call him, Mr. Personality! He can talk a virgin out of her clothes while she’s holding the bible and reading the scriptures. The boy has style.

Then there’s Marcus – we call him Cus-Cus…sounds so nice, we say it twice! Actually, we picked up that phrase from his grandmother. She told us he used to cuss so much as a kid that she started calling him Cus-Cus. He’s been JT’s best friend since they were little kids. You’ll never see a cuter guy, but he’s so shy and quiet that he doesn’t know how cute he is; he stays in JT’s shadow. He’s also funny as hell but he has a heart of gold. He’s quick to defend anyone who’s been wronged. He’s Mr. Righteous. With him, you’ll know when you’re wrong, whether you want to hear it or not. Before Cus-Cus stuck as a nickname, we called him Preach because he would preach to us all day long but that name didn’t last long. It’s hard to hear a man curse like a sailor and then call him Preach. Next, we started calling him Lect, short for lecture, because if he was talking to you, you knew that’s what you were getting, a lecture. But none of the nicknames lasted for very long, until we heard his grandmother call him Cus-Cus. It fit him perfectly, short for Marcus and he just curses so much! Where you see Cus-Cus, you’ll see JT. They travel as a pair.

JT, Cus-Cus and I made up the original trio of friends. Most of the time it would be just the three of us; we didn’t need other people to have a good time. That’s when it first occurred to them that I was one of the guys. Sometimes I would hang with them and their friends, sometimes they’d hang with me and my girlfriends but for the most part it was just the three of us. Our trio broke up when I moved to Florida. And when I got back to New York, I saw that my best friends were hanging with two new guys, whom I started referring to as the Interlopers.

Interloper #1 was Reggie; he’s mister Sex on a Platter. Everything about him is sensual, from the shape of his lips, to his six pack abs, all the way down to his toes. His deep voice sounds as smooth as butter. He’s also Mr. Oh-No! When you see him, your first thought is, Oh-no, here comes trouble! And you’re thinking, Trouble would look so good on me. He looks like a darker version of LL Cool J, with one pants leg up, one down. And even though that style is so played, it’s still cool on Reggie. His abs make LL’s look weak. When you see him, your first thought is, He’s so hood…until you hear him speak. He’s very intelligent. Ladies are attracted to his good looks and his generous personality. He’s another one that keeps us laughing all night, just being silly. His favorite line is from the old Budweiser commercial, And then the weasel said… and he makes that high pitched weasel sound. This is usually the icebreaker he uses when there’s a lull in the conversation or when Weasel says something outrageously stupid.

And that brings me to Darryl, Weasel, or as I refer to him, Interloper #2. We call him Weasel because his eyes are so close together and they’re always darting from side to side, like a weasel. When he’s holding a conversation, his eyes are all over the room, instead of him looking at the person he’s talking to. Despite his looks, he still manages to get his fair share of women. He’s the butt of our jokes but he is also Reggie’s best friend. If you see one of them, you know the other’s not far behind.

When people see me hanging with these guys, the first thought is that I must be gay. It’s just not reasonable to assume that the four of them are gay. But I dress sexy and I flirt with men, to try to show people that I am straight. Then the thought is…Ok, if she’s not gay, she must be sleeping with them all. That’s not true. There was a time when I could honestly say, I never slept with any of my friends. I never really believed that friends should cross that line. So what is the attraction? Why do I spend so much of my free time with them? It all starts with JT. And that’s a truer statement than even I first realized. You’ll come to see how true this is.

In the beginning

Seven years ago, I was standing on the Metro North train platform at Mount Vernon East, heading towards Port Chester to my job in the bank. It was a nice sunny day and I was wearing a nice short business suit and heels to show my shapely legs. My hair was relaxed and I had it curled at the tips and it hung to my shoulders. I was only 20. An old man, probably 40-something, which is horrendously old to a 20 year old, kept trying to pick me up. I tried to let him down gently, telling him I had a boyfriend but he didn’t care, until JT walked over, and then it became a typical conversation from the movies.

Hey Babe. Who’s your friend? JT said with utter coolness.

I have no idea who he is, I told him I had a boyfriend…but he didn’t seem to care. I tried to sound casual, not knowing who this stranger was but very grateful for the save. My inner thought was my hero, said in a dainty damsel-in-distress voice.

It’s not that I didn’t care, said the old man, I-I-I just didn’t think someone as pretty as you should be waiting for the train alone. The guy was stammering with embarrassment. He probably gets brushed off a lot but it seemed like this was the first time he’s been caught by the supposed boyfriend.

That’s completely my fault; I’m late. JT apologized and he put his arm around my waist. It was hard for me to not cringe at his touching me with such familiarity. I was grateful, but cautious.

The old guy walked off and I thanked JT (without knowing his name) for saving me. When the train came, minutes later, I asked him to sit with me to make it more believable that we were a couple but we didn’t talk. Let’s face it, he was still a stranger to me and I really didn’t talk to strangers. I started reading my paper and I noticed him looking over my shoulder, so I shared; I gave him the sports section. I always read the comics first, next I figure out the jumble and finally, I start the crossword puzzle. I would’ve had a fit if he had wanted to start either of those before me. Call me selfish but it was my paper! He kept trying to start up a conversation but I was politely ignoring him, putting way more interest in the paper than I normally would.

When I got off the train in Port Chester, he got off too. I walked down the block towards Main Street and I noticed he was right behind me. Feeling a little paranoid, I finally stopped him and stated with much attitude, Look, thanks for saving me with the old guy but that’s as far as you need to carry it.

He goes, Ok, what’s your name Miss?

I said, Angel and you are?

I’m James, JT to my friends. And Angel, you may not have noticed me before, getting on or off the train here every day but I work right up the block there off of Main Street. He pointed up the block before he continued, However, I work in Connecticut, so although it may appear that I’m following you, trust me I’m not. You’re cute and all that but you’re not cute enough to make me want to follow you. My job just happens to be in the same direction. He could’ve stopped right there; I got the picture but there was no stopping him now, I figured you needed a save and that gave me the opportunity to speak to you but that’s it. But no, you’re not conceited at all–get that thought right out of your head!

Oookay, I dragged the word out to let him know that I really got it. I rolled my eyes and like a bad dog, I walked away with my head down.

I was too embarrassed for words. He was the first person to ever tell me it wasn’t all about me. How dare he! On the way home after work, I did notice him on the train platform; same jeans and polo shirt and he got on the same train, same train car; his words echoed in my head, getting on and off the train. Since the world doesn’t revolve around me, in his eyes, I made it a point to sit in a different car of the train. I didn’t want to be close to him.

When I got off in Pelham, he got off too. And I spoke to him again. "Ok James, I get on at Mt. Vernon East to get a seat but I get off in Pelham because I actually live closer to the Pelham station. Are you still ‘not following’ me?" I used my fingers to create air