ENGL1007 First Draft, Extended

"That was not backing me up," Charlie said as they walked toward the bus stop. "What you did back there? That is not being a good wing-man."
"Maybe I'm just not a good wing-man?" Jen replied.
"That's not it and you know it," she insisted. "You know I like Sam but you told Susan that he was totally into her, which by the way is a total lie because he doesn't even look at her. What if she asks him out because you said that? What if he says yes? Why would you do that to me?"
Jen shrugged.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"It's going to rain," Jen said absently, peering up at the sky. Charlie stifled a frustrated growl.
"Jen, you always do this!" She cried. "Why are you so immature? I'd have a better friendship with a toddler. I'd have a more meaningful conversation with an ATM."
"I can be meaningful." She sounded hurt, but not for the right reason, Charlie thought.
"Not when it's important, Jen, and that is the prob-"
"I told you it'd rain!" She interrupted, holding out her hand to catch the first few drops of evidence. "Didn't I say it would rain?"
They ran to the shelter as the rain set in, and sat perhaps a little further apart than they normally would have.

"I think this is a bigger problem than you realise," Charlie said finally, with a sigh.
"Why?"
"How can we be best friends if you can't even pay attention when I'm talking to you? Let alone back me up against boyfriend-stealing bitches like Susan Macleod?"
"He isn't your boyfriend, Charlie."
"Well he should be."
A bus rattled past and they peered after it in the dying sunlight.
"That wasn't ours, was it?" Charlie asked, as ever paranoid that one day their bus would not stop for them.
"Nope, that was the Glenelg bus."
"Good. But seriously. How could you not remember that I liked him? How long have I been talking about him for, now?"
"A couple weeks."
"At least!"
"Only just. Before that it was Mark, and before him it was Sean, and Michael, and Hayden..."
Charlie glared at her.
"Are you calling me fickle?""Pretty much," Jen replied cheerfully. The rain was getting heavy - she splashed her feet in the little puddles that were growing beneath the bench.

“What about the sports carnival last week? You followed him around all day.”
“With a clipboard,” Jen added, sketching its shape out in the air.
“Yes, well, didn’t you speak to him then? About something? I.e. me?”
“No. We didn’t talk.”
Charlie felt like tearing at her hair with frustration. Was Jen being deliberately thick-headed? Another bus rattled by, sending up a fountain of spray.
“Marion Centre,” Jen said helpfully.

“If you can’t give me one good reason why not, then I honestly think I will have to go find a new best friend.”
“It’s hard to have a conversation with someone’s tongue shoved down your throat and,” she added quickly, “before you go jumping to conclusions I was not personally involved. I was referring to Sam’s throat and Henry’s tongue.”
Charlie gaped.
“Henry – as in that girl from Aberfoyle Park? Henrietta Price?”
“Nope. Henry as in Henry Thomas. The guy that cooks.”
Charlie was silent for a long time as the information sank in.
“And Susan’s going to ask him out, right?”
“God yes. She thinks she’s a sure thing.”
The silence stretched out a little more. The rain poured down. A bus stopped before them with a hiss of its brakes.
“That’s ours, Jen,” Charlie pointed out, grabbing her bag and trying to dodge the puddles between them and the roadside.
“Aren’t you going to apologise?” Jen complained as she followed her, searching her pockets for her bus ticket. Charlie looked back over her shoulder with a cheeky smile.
“After you spent the last half hour torturing me? I don’t think so. And besides, that’s what being a best friend is all about, Jen. You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”