So this is my first fictionpress story/oneshot, and I'll take any piece of advice you give. Please review, it'll make me really happy. :)

*This is based loosely on a true story - namely, the last few weeks of my life.

Friends With Benefits

It's so stereotypical to fall in love with your best friend, but my life has always been filled with stereotypes.

My older sister, Adella, is perfect - good grades, lots of friends, a way with flashing her charming smile even when she doesn't want to. She manages to juggle cheerleading and AP classes at the same time, juggle both more professionally than the street performers littered throughout New York City. I was born in that city, and I love it more than any other place in the world. I would move there if I could. But for now, I'm stuck in the suburbs.

My friend Riley is artistic, confident, and almost nauseatingly friendly. It's hard not to like her, every single strand of purple-streaked hair on her head. My other friend, Mina, carries a journal wherever she goes. Almost every piece of clothing she owns is black, and her music library is practically the entire iTunes store shoved into one poor little chunk of technology. And Joanna, my quiet companion, is shy but ridiculously smart and creative, with strict Asian parents.
My parents are just - well, parents. They care about me, worry about my grades, compare me to the smarter and more focused daughters of their friends. But they never push me to hard.

Then there's Ryan.

Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.

We aren't childhood friends, unlike the many girl-boy best friends on TV and in books. We met only a year ago - he was the friend of Kevin Frenio, a fast-talker who never ceased to amuse me during history class. To me, Ryan seemed like a genius who knew everything in the world, but lacked simple common sense. Ryan thought of me as the crazy chick who cracked sick jokes and found the things he said funny.

We bonded instantly.

And this year... well, this year is different. Kevin, Riley, Joanna and Mina are in almost none of my classes. And Ryan - well, Ryan's in every single one of them. I've always thought of him as a younger brother, even though he's about half a year older. But now... now things have changed. Whenever I look at Ryan, it's as if he's different than the time before. One minute I see my wild best friend, the next minute I see just what he is: a boy. A boy with big, laughing brown eyes and scruffy caramel-colored hair. A cute boy who knows me inside and out, and likes me for who I am.

Likes me as a friend, of course.

***

The flash of my mother's camera causes me to grimace. I feel like a tacky tourist, strolling around NYC as Mom clicks away. This is my city, the place I wish is home. But Mom wants pictures, freaking photographs of just about everything we pass by. What makes even less sense is the fact that Mom lived in Manhattan for more than ten years after she and Dad got married. She knows this city as well a doctor knows symptoms of the flu. But now, apparently, she's no longer part of the glorious place that used to be home, snapping away with her fancy digital camera - the one she probably bought the second she crossed the George Washington Bridge with half of our apartment stuffed into the trunk of her Toyota. The same Toyota that was later replaced with a gleaming white Lexus.

God. We're so suburban.

In my pocket, my phone jingles a Killers tune. I pull it out and glance at the screen. Riley.

"Hey!" I say cheerfully, trying to disguise the horror in my voice as my mother eagerly snaps a picture of some rotting sculpture. "What's up?"

Riley's voice is happy. She sounds jumpy - I can tell that she's trying hard to contain her excitement. "Guess what just happened?"

I sit down on a bench, squinting as a breeze rolls by and pushes my hair into my face. I can't imagine anything so wonderful that would make her hyperventilate like this. "What?"

She pauses, then squeals, "Owen asked me out!"

It's possibly the first time I've ever heard Riley squeal.

I smile, forgetting that she can't see me. "Congrats. You guys are cute together."

"Really?"

"Really."

Riley makes an odd noise. "Oh, I'm just so happy..."

I laugh. "Calm down." I look up as I say this, wondering if my mother has finished taking pictures.

She's gone.

I stand up, nervous suddenly, and speak into my phone, "Uh… actually, Riley, I have to go. Can we talk later?"

She sighs dreamily, lost in thought. "Yeah. Talk to you later, Bianca."

"Bye." I press END and quickly dial my mom's number. Where is she?

One ring, two rings, three rings…

"Hi, this is Kristi Peramou. I'm not here at the moment, so leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks."

I grit my teeth. Has my own mother really just abandoned me to take some photos?

Yes.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and start pacing around. I wait five minutes, then ten. Mom doesn't come back.

I call Adella.

"'Lo," She says once she picks up. "What do you want? I'm at cheerleading. Break's almost over, so hurry up."

"I'm lost," I blurt.

"Great," Adella yawns. I hear the soft swoosh of rushing liquid as she sips from her water bottle. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "Pick me up. You're the one with a car."

She snorts. "Please. I'm not going to skip cheerleading just so I can waste gas driving to New York City, of all places, and pick up my annoying little sister. Anyway, I thought you loved NYC."

"I do," I say, "but—"

"Then you'll love being lost there." Adella hangs up.

I glare at the phone, then exhale deeply. I need to calm down. I'm not lost. I can just call Dad. No need to panic or anything. I mean, in a year this won't be happening! I can drive next year. I won't get lost.

But that's next year.

Damn New Jersey's laws.

"Bianca?" A familiar voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I turn around, only to meet equally familiar eyes.

"Ryan. Hey." Relief washes over me. "What are you doing here?"

He holds up his guitar case. "I'm playing at Chelsey's wedding next week. I was at rehearsal—she just has to get married in a church here. Mom and Dad wanted to send me home, but I told them I was gonna get a few things from the city before I leave."

I think about Ryan's sister, Chelsey, who is outgoing and friendly and seven hundred times nicer than Adella. I'm happy for her, now that she's found the perfect man.

"Awesome," I say to Ryan. "Am I invited?"

He stares at me. "Of course you are! Didn't you get the card?"

I frown. "No."

He shrugs. "Hmm. I guess your mom forgot to tell you about it."

I groan. "Yeah, well, she might never get a chance to."

"What do you mean?"

I wave my arm in a Vanna White manner, showcasing Manhattan. "My mom's gone. I'm lost."

Ryan blinks, then laughs. "You're sixteen. You can't be lost—you're too old for that."

"That's not true."

"It is."

I whack him on the shoulder. "This is serious."

"Come on, Bianca, don't you feel like a little kid? You can't find your mommy, for God's sake."

I hit him again, harder than before. "Shut up."

"Make me," he teases, sounding for all the world like a toddler himself.

"Sure," I reply, and clamp my hand over his mouth. He says something muffled, then—with a wicked look in his eyes—licks my palm.

"Ew!" I shriek, and jump away from him.

Ryan grins mischievously, slings his guitar case onto his back, and then grabs my left hand—the one he didn't lick. Lacing my fingers through his, he pulls me away.

"Where are you taking me?" I demand, trying to hide my suddenly reddening cheeks. Ryan's holding my hand. God, he's holding my hand.

"Somewhere," he says bluntly, dragging me along.

"Great," I mutter sarcastically. "I've always wanted to go there."

Ryan turns his head slightly. "Just go with it, alright?" He says gently. "We're two parent-free twerps in a big city. We're free."

I roll my eyes. "God. Only you can make an adventure out of this."

But even so, I can't help but to smile. Damn it, Ryan, you have no idea how much I love… how much I love your ideas.

And so I follow him. I always do.

We walk to Times Square, where he stops at stores and stands, buying just about everything that looks interesting—including the current issue of a certain magazine.

"You disgust me," I remark, even though half of my mouth is already lifted up into a grin.

"I swear, this is for Trey," he says defensively, referring to his older brother.

"Why can't Trey buy her"—I point at the busty blond on the cover—"by himself?"

"Because… because…" Ryan scratches his head and smiles a bit sheepishly.

I laugh and pull him away, down the street. "C'mon, let's…"

I stop in mid-sentence and stare, transfixed by an outfit worn by a mannequin in a store window. It wears red high tops, dark leggings, a short, swishy, soft-looking skirt, and—

"Girls," Ryan snorts. "Always obsessed with clothes."

I ignore him and stare on. The mannequin's long short-sleeved shirt, worn under a cropped jacket, bears a black-and-white photo of two heads pressed together—one male and one female. Underneath the design, a few words run across the near-bottom of the shirt.

" 'Friends With Benefits'," Ryan reads. "Huh." He glances sideways at me.

I shake my head, trying to knock some sense into myself. I usually don't give a damn about clothes. I don't admire pieces of clothing—I buy things when I run out of things to wear, but I don't purposely go out and hunt for designer labels or such.

The way Ryan's eyeballs are suddenly burning into the side of my head makes me uncomfortable.

"What?" I snap. "I think it's a cute shirt. That's all."

He shakes his head. "It's not that…" The way he takes a deep breath makes me think he's going to make a speech. I feel sick all of a sudden."B, I—"

"Bianca! Oh, I was looking all over for you!"

I turn around and force a smile, not caring if it wavers slightly. "Mom. Hey."

***

On Monday, Riley comes bounding up to my locker, glowing with happiness. She's bright from head to toe, dressed in red and orange, hugging just about anyone who walks by. She tells me everything about Owen as I fiddle with my lock, opening my locker at last.

"Mina!" She exclaims as our outgoing friend passes by. Riley grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth. Her brown curls bounce crazily as Riley uses some of the strength that she's famous for. "Did I tell you about Owen?"

"Yes," Mina winces as her purple Nano clatters out of her pocket and onto the floor, thanks to Riley's extensive shaking. "It was plastered all over Facebook."

Riley stops. "Right," she says, sounding more like her calm self. "I forgot about that."

Mina smiles anyway. "Well, I didn't congratulate you. So congrats—the rest of us single kiddies envy you."

"We do," Joanna chimes in, popping out of nowhere.

"Jo, you have Alec," Riley teases, causing her to blush. "Even if he's too much of a wimp to ask you out."

As usual, I stay out of the conversation. I do like someone, of course, but not in a crazy, obsessive, write-his-name-all-over-my-notebook way.

…Ryan.

I tug self-consciously on the hem of my shirt. It's the same shirt I stared at in the window of the store in Times Square. After waving goodbye to Ryan, I'd convinced my Mom to take me into the store, where I bought the Friends With Benefits shirt. I don't know why I wanted it so much—I just did.

The irony of the slogan may have affected my choice.

The bell rings, and the four of us—Mina, Riley, Joanna, and I—race toward our different homerooms. In my rush heading for room 137, I crash right into Ryan. I take a few startled steps back, but he seems completely unsurprised.

"B," he says, smiling. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Mrs. Kreen's going to kill us first," I answer, ducking under his arm and speed-walking away.

"That doesn't matter," he argues, quickly catching up to me. "I—" He stops abruptly and blinks at my shirt. "Wait…you bought it?"

I feel myself flush in embarrassment. "Yeah."

He hesitates as he rereads the words. "Um…"

Mrs. Kreen pokes her head out the door of 137, blue eyes narrowed beadily. I gulp.

"Look, Ryan," I hiss to him. "Tell me later, okay? I don't want to stay after school today."

But I already know what he's going to tell me. And as much as I've been anticipating it, I kind of don't want to hear it.

***

By the time fifth period, my lunch period arrives, I've fully managed to avoid Ryan in every class. I practically sprint to the cafeteria, dodging seniors and juniors who glare at me as they lug their books past.

"Bianca! Stop!" I hear footsteps behind me. Ryan grabs my shoulder, and I screech to a halt.

"What?" I say, my stomach clenching.

"Will you just… just listen to me?" He begs.

I sigh. "Ryan…"

"I like you," he blurts.

Everything freezes. My heart and time and space.

"I like you a lot," he continues on. "And I want you to go out with me."

I take a few steps back, stumbling. "No," I say, "you can't. We're best friends. Going out will ruin everything." I can barely breathe as I go on. "Ryan… I like you too. For a while now. But… I like being your friend. If we get together, we'll break up eventually. And that'll ruin our friendship."

Ryan stares. "You… like me?"

"Yes, I do," I say, my voice sounding strained. "But…"

He grabs my wrist and leans forward, so that his nose is inches from mine. "I promise you that nothing will happen to our friendship. C'mon, B—we've been through everything. Now can we just…?" His eyes burn into mine.

I nod mutely, and he presses his lips to mine. Right in the middle of the hallway, where just about everyone can see us, we kiss. It's soft, gentle, but passionate at the same time. My heart hammers in my chest, and my mind races.

Maybe he'll keep his promise. Maybe he won't. But because he's Ryan, because he's my best friend, I'm pretty sure that he will.

Review?