Chapter 32
The chime of my doorbell rings through my ears, making me jolt.
Who could that be? I hardly ever get unexpected company.
I run my hands under the sink faucet, scrubbing the stickiness from the frosting off my fingers.
The chime echoes through the house once more.
I dry my hands on a paper towel, throw it on the counter and head for the door.
I swing the door open and am shocked to see Rya standing there with a smile on her face. “Hey,” she says, high-pitched and overly excited, like we had plans.
“Hi,” I mumble, swinging the door open wider. “Did we have plans?”
She shakes her head, taking a step inside. “No,” she says. She inhales the sweet scent of homemade cupcakes.
I shut the door and follow behind her as she makes her way into my kitchen. “What are you doing?”
She pivots around with a frown on her face. “Can I not come visit my best friend?”
“Yeah. But shouldn’t you be at work?”
I’m very confused about her unannounced visit. Even though we’re best friends, I always know when she is coming over.
“I took the day off.” She gets closer to the vanilla cupcakes that I just pulled out of the oven and takes a big sniff.
“Again?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
Rya has been acting so strange lately, and I can’t figure out why.
I’ve tried to brush it off. Zayn’s been stressed and acting weird, so maybe something similar is going on with her too.
I’ve learned not to push with Zayn, so I haven’t pushed with her.
Maybe this is what she needs—her best friend.
But after what happened this past weekend, I’m not so sure.
I want to ask what the hell all that was about.
The hatred in her eyes still rolls around in the back of my mind.
“Can I have one?” she asks, pointing to a cupcake.
I nod, reaching out to the frosting. “Let me frost it.”
She turns around, leans her hips against the counter with her arms crossed.
“What’s going on, Rya?”
“I’m exhausted,” she says with a sigh.
“Like in general, or right now?” I ask, finishing the frosting on two cupcakes. I set the piping bag down and hand her a cupcake.
“Right now.”
She dives right in, taking a huge bite, and I can’t help but smile at the expression on her face. She’s enjoying something sweet, something she usually avoids to watch her figure.
“Oh, this is good,” she says as a hum escapes her lips. She nods, taking another bite.
I giggle and grab my cupcake. “Let’s go to the couch,” I say, walking out of the kitchen.
She slumps down onto the couch with an exhausted sigh.
“You want to go for a walk after?” I ask with my mouth half-full.
She eyes me hard, brows knitting together. “I said I’m exhausted, not energized.”
I sit back, unfazed by her response. “It’s a clear day. A walk with the sun shining down on you will help energize you.”
She scoffs. “No,” she says, chewing a bite of her cupcake. “What will energize me is an energy drink.” She licks a bit of frosting off her finger. “I’m not into all that voodoo shit you’re into.” She waves her hands in the air as if she’s doing a spell or something.
I narrow my eyes at her. “It’s not voodoo.”
She waves her hand, dismissing me. “Seems like it.”
“How?”
Rya sighs dramatically. “Like how you say your gut has a lot to do with your mental health. Blah, blah, blah,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I tighten my jaw. “Because it does. Everything connects. Your gut health is connected to your mental health.”
She lets out a laugh.
It’s frustrating how the closest people to me never believe what I say.
I’m no expert, but with the research I did, I know how much gut health affects you both mentally and physically.
They brush it off like it’s some made-up shit.
I’ve had so many conversations with Zayn, and he looks at me like I’m crazy.
It’s even more frustrating that I’ve learned to keep stuff to myself, so I don’t get laughed at by him and now Rya.
“You think all the chemicals you eat are helping you physically and mentally. It’s all synthetic. It’s not helping.”
“You’ve changed,” she says, looking me over. “A lot.” Her gaze lingers.
I lift my chin, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I have, and it’s for the better.”
“Whatever,” she says, shaking her head.
I’m so blindsided by the way Rya has been acting toward me lately. Her sharp responses. It’s not like her. We’ve always been able to talk about anything. Even if we don’t agree. Now it feels like the way she feels about me is changing.
“What’s going on with you, Rya? You’ve been acting different lately?”
She squints her eyes. “How?”
I shift in my seat. “Like this past weekend. What was that all about? It’s not like you to keep us all wondering where you were?”
Her whole body stiffens. “Oh my God, can everyone get off my ass about that? It was a onetime thing, and now I can’t hear the end of it.”
I pause, watching her body tense up. “I’m only asking because I’m worried about you. Is there something going on?”
I remember when Ezra asked me if I knew anything.
At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but this shift in Rya has me at a loss, just like he was.
She’s here physically, sitting right in front of me, but something is off.
There is some sort of annoyance with the way she speaks and acts toward me now.
She lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m unhappy. Okay?”
I’m taken aback by what she said, unsure of how to respond, I glance over at her and see her jaw stiffen. “With what?”
She runs her hands through her hair. “Just life.”
I lean forward, waiting for her to say more, but silence echoes through the house. The sound of the birds chirping outside is the only sound coming in. “Rya, why don’t you talk to me? You’ve always been able to come to me about stuff?”
Is it me, or do the people I love feel like they can’t come to me?
First, it was Zayn shutting me out. Now Rya is acting like she can’t talk to me about whatever is going on.
I can’t help but feel like I’m losing touch with the people closest to me.
And Ezra too. He seems as if he can’t talk to me either.
Oh, my hell… Am I a bad wife? A bad friend? Is there something I’m missing? Is it me?
Rya gets up from the couch. “I’m going to head out. Thanks for the cupcake.”
I stare at her, at a loss for words. Everything is crumbling around me. Has it been crumbling way before I even noticed?