I knew what was coming next.

“What the heck? Guys?” My back was turned, but I knew that Micah was being gently shoved through the back door and into his own basement. The door was shut slowly and locked with a click. I turned around with my arms crossed over my chest and a frown gracing my face. I was hoping to look intimidating, but I should have known Micah well enough to know that he could see through my masks.

This had all been Juliet’s doing, and as I stood there in front of the television in the basement we spent nearly every Saturday night, I wasn’t all that fond of my best friend. Juliet had been getting irritated with me lately. I didn’t really blame her. The other day at school, I’d practically exploded in the hallway, making a real scene with Micah and not explaining a word of it. She was my best friend, she deserved an explanation, but I didn’t have one to give her.

I didn’t have an explanation to give Micah either, and he was the one I’d made such a scene over. He knew I was angry with him, but he didn’t know why. And I was too chicken to admit to him what I girl I was being. But I can’t hide my anger well, even if it’s unjustified and unreasonable. Which is why I yelled in the hall the other day, in front of everybody, and then I’d acted completely coward and ran into the bathroom with Juliet on my heels. I didn’t like the way this whole thing was turning out.

“Frankie,” Micah said slowly and steadily. He knew he was catching turbulence from me and he was being smart. He knew my temper.

“Micah,” I retorted in the same tone. He simply smirked at me. His looked warned that he could be just as sarcastic as I could.

“I’m not letting you out until you quit being angry with each other!!” Juliet’s voice came down the stairs like a gust of wind, nearly knocking me over. Of course I’d expected it; it was just like Juliet to do something extreme like this. She reads too much. I rolled my eyes cynically.

“Alright, listen, Frankie. Just tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“If you had two ounces of sensitivity in your brain, you would know.”

“Well, I don’t know! I have no idea in the world what I did to make you ... spit venom at me with your gorgeous eyes.”

I didn’t say anything, just stared at my stubby black fingernails. Did he just say I had gorgeous eyes?

“I can truthfully say that I’ve spent nights trying to figure this out. Please just tell me so we can just get over it.”

I didn’t know what to say. And it’s rare that I’m at a loss for words. I fell onto the couch, my arms still crossed, and my frown more serious than ever. I hated that he could make me feel this way. So vulnerable and confused. When had this whole mess started? I thought to myself. Everything was so mixed up I couldn’t even see anything anymore.

“Frankie.”

I glanced up at him slowly. I knew what my face must’ve looked like because worry crossed his right away. He sat next to me and I turned away from him. I couldn’t look into his worried eyes.

“What is it? Just tell me. You can tell me.”

“It’s ... you know...” I trailed off. I was honestly making an effort now. I knew Micah wasn’t going to deal with my monster mood swings anymore. I had to come clean. I tried again. “I saw you the other day ... in Rino’s...” There was no way I could finish.

“What?” Micah prompted. I looked at him. How could I tell him? I could I tell him anything of what I felt? It wasn’t like me at all to be acting this way in the first place. And he didn’t need to be burdened with this. He didn’t need to know how insanely jealous I was of Michelle Wood, the girl I’d endured seeing him ogle at for the past two months. It wasn’t even his fault. I felt so stupid. I could not tell him that.

“It’s nothing.” I stood up quickly and crossed the room to the pool table, picking up a pool stick and the chalk. “Pool?”

“No, Frankie, you need to tell me. I will not let this torture you, whatever it is, because you’re obviously mad. And I know that if we don’t clear the air now, in two days there will be smoke rolling out of your ears again.”

“I’m glad you’re going to college to be a journalist because you have quite the way with words.” I said with a fake smile. Micah followed my footprints across the room and grabbed the pool stock out of my hands, leaning it up against the paneled wall gracefully.

“We can play pool after you tell me what’s going on inside your crazy head.”

“I resent that.”

“You should. Now talk to me.”

I stared at my black converse shoes for a minute, trying to reign in my scattered mind. I couldn’t seem to locate a coherent thought in the depths of my brain.

“I can’t.” I said pathetically.

“I have never known you to be at a loss for words, Frankie.”

“Me either.” I snorted a sarcastic half-laugh.

I re-crossed the room to the couch. I sat down again, with my back toward Micah, pretending to study the books on the shelf in front of me.

“Would you quit pacing the room?” Micah said exasperatedly, but followed me.

“Sorry.”

I sat there, silent again, racking my brain, begging myself to come up with a swift plan to get myself out of this mess I’d created. Sometimes I couldn’t stand myself.

It was time for me to do what I was made for. Act.

I turned to Micah, looking him straight in the eye. It was now that I was thankful to God that I could lie so well.

“Listen, Micah. I’m really sorry I’ve been acting so weird lately. I guess I’ve been pretty stressed out with school, work. And the auditions were last week, and now practice every night. You know? So, I guess I’ve just been going a little bit crazy lately. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to cool down a little.”

“Are you being for real? Or are you putting this on?”

“I’m being serious. I promise, Micah.”

“I believe you. Only because I trust you.”

My heart sunk to my knees. I felt more guilt than ever before. But I couldn’t take it back now.

“Juliet!” I called as I got up from the couch and walked toward the foot of the stairs. “We’re all good now! You can let us out.”

At the top of the stairs, I swung open the door to find Juliet, Jake, Luke, and Nadia sitting at Micah’s kitchen table, sipping lemonade with Mrs. Moulden, Micah’s mother. I couldn’t believe my eyes and I just started laughing. Juliet got up immediately, her flowered skirt swishing as she did so, and she gave me a look, hands on the hips and all.

“Did you really? Or are you just making it up?”

“We really did,” I lied.

“Well, you want to hit Starbucks then? You owe me a big time explanation.”

“I would love to, J, but I have a ... special ballet thing in an hour. Maybe tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you guys later.” The lies were coming like water through a faucet.

I spun gracefully around and walked down the hallway to the front door.