Chapter Thirteen #2
“What’s the difference?” I ask before I can stop myself. Chloe arches a brow. Now I feel like an asshole because what kind of person gets upset that their friend is dating someone? “I’m happy for her.”
“Sure, sure.” Chloe glances at them dancing, and I stare at the ice cubes in my glass. “At least we get to meet this one. That hasn’t happened since, what, junior year of high school? Wait, do we count Simone, even though they didn’t actually date?”
I groan, not wanting to relive that particular moment. Or any of them, if I’m being honest.
A new song fades into the last, and Chloe grabs my arm to tug me away from the bar. “Come on. Let’s go dance. I’m tired of looking at you sulking.”
“You go. I just want to eat my lime,” I say, staring at the pathetic slice at the bottom of my glass.
I can tell she wants to argue. Instead, she shakes her head, chugs her mojito, and hands me the rest. I risk a glance at the floor and instantly regret it when I see Trinity with her arms around Alex’s neck, and their chests pressed together.
Two songs later, Trinity finds me.
She leans against the bar and fans herself despite the fact that I can’t spot a bead of sweat anywhere.
After ordering herself a drink, she looks fondly at Alex and Chloe still dancing in the center of the room.
“I can’t believe she’s still going. I swear, she always has to be moving. Has she always been like that?”
Something tells me she’s been waiting to get me alone so she can grill me about Alex. “It’s hard for her to stay put.”
She nods and stares at Alex longingly. “I’m going to miss her when she leaves for London.
” Then she whips around to face me, her expression one of slight panic.
“Don’t tell her I said that. We’re still too new to have the long-distance conversation, and between me and you, I’m terrified she’s going to end it if I bring it up too soon. ”
I stare back at her because, what? London? That’s years away. “Are you two that serious?”
Trinity sighs takes a long sip of her drink. “Sort of? I mean, we’ve been exclusive for the past three months, so we’re not not serious. This is nice, though. The whole being out together. We don’t do that much. Go out, I mean. We usually just stay in.”
She gives me a suggestive kind of look. They’re exclusively fucking is what she’s saying. As much as I wish I had earmuffed that particular bit of information, I’m too focused on the idea that she seems to be planning a future with her years down the road.
“But you’re serious enough to make plans to move with her post graduation?”
Trinity looks confused. I’m starting to wonder if we’re talking about the same thing.
“Post graduation?” Then it’s as if she realizes something.
“No, when Alex transfers once she finishes her second year at NYU.” Trinity stares at me, and slowly, her expression changes to realization. “Alex didn’t tell you?”
A sharp pain hits me square in the chest because, no, she most definitely did not tell me that. Why wouldn’t she tell me? I look at her still out on the floor, dancing like she isn’t breaking my heart and force myself not to cry.
Once it hits midnight, I’m ready to leave.
I’m not drunk, but I’m buzzed enough to be upset and jealous, and that’s not good.
Trinity insists she’ll catch a ride with her bouncer friend, and I’m grateful because even though she seems lovely, I really don’t want to have to squeeze into a car with her.
When we exit the club, the line is gone. It’s also cold and drizzling. It matches my mood.
“I’ll get a Lyft,” Chloe says and rummages in her purse. After a moment of searching, she tilts her head back and closes her eyes. “Shit. I think I left my phone in the bathroom.”
“Want me to go with you to look for it?” I ask.
Chloe waves my offer away. “Nah, I’ll just be a minute.”
The drizzle picks up into a steady kind of rain. I should’ve gone with her because now all I can think about is the last time Alex and I got caught in the rain. How it led to a night full of passion and possibilities.
“Ah, this feels good,” Alex says and turns her face upward, the droplets bouncing off her face. “It was so hot in there.” She flashes me a smile, but I don’t return it. I clench my jaw and try to force down the sadness that weighs heavily underneath my ribs. Her smile fades. “You okay?”
“When were you going to tell me you and Trinity were more than just hanging out?”
She looks taken aback by my sharp accusation. “It’s just sex,” she finally says.
Her answer isn’t surprising, but hearing her say it makes the whole situation so much worse. If it was “just sex,” why the hell would she lie about it?
Then I have another thought. While I was in agony over Alex pulling away and hoping she may be thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about her, she wasn’t thinking about me at all. Instead, she was fucking someone else and planning a move to the other side of the Atlantic.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I rush to the curb and bend over, putting my hands on my knees and willing the contents of my stomach to stay there.
Alex is there instantly, rubbing my back like I’m not dangerously close to spewing all over her Chuck Taylors. But I don’t want her close. I don’t want her touching me. I flinch and step away.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her? About the two of you?”
“I didn’t…” She starts, then trails off, looking anywhere but at me. A telltale sign that she’s either about to deflect or lie. Probably both. “I didn’t want you judging me.”
Her words are like a surprise slap across my cheek. “Judge you? When have I ever judged you?”
Her shoulders drop. “I don’t know, Jules.”
Typical Alex, her nonresponse is just another way of running away. And I’m getting tired of it. “You know I was so excited to come here. To spend time with you. Because we never seem to get to do that anymore. But even when you’re here, you’re not really here, are you?”
“What are you talking about? I’m standing right in front of you.”
“Ever since you got home from Europe, everything is such a mystery. I have to pry things out of you because you never talk to me.”
“We talk all the time.” She looks genuinely confused, and it just makes me more frustrated that she just doesn’t get it.
“But you never actually tell me things. You barely talk about your friends from France. You didn’t tell me anything about Greece until I begged. And Simone? Didn’t tell me about her, either.”
“I didn’t have to. You walked in on us, remember?”
“Then,” I continue, ignoring her jab, “I found out about you and Trinity. Tonight. From her. Do you know how embarrassing it is? To hear about what’s going on in your life from a total stranger and not you?
” Finally, it seems to get through because she goes from defensive to chastised in the span of a second.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a relationship? ”
“Because I’m not sure what it is with Trinity, and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”
Okay, ouch. Seems she’s full of jabs tonight. But also, what the fuck? I’m the one she comes to when she’s hurting. I’m the one she came out to before anyone else. I’m the one she confides in when she’s worried about Mason. I’m the one she tells her secrets to.
Me, me, me.
At least, she used to.
“What do you mean you didn’t know how to talk to me about it?”
Her frustration grows. “I don’t even know what she and I are. I just know I like her, and we’re having fun.”
“Does she know that?” I snap. “Because it’s pretty clear to me that she thinks you two are pretty fucking serious.”
She takes a step toward me, her eyes flashing something dangerous, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “You know, you’re no saint, either. How long did it take you to tell me about Emily?”
“You pulled away,” I say, not wanting to talk about Emily. This has nothing to do with her. I want to talk about me and her and the new sex-shaped wedge nestled within our friendship. “You swore nothing would come between us, and you pulled away.”
“Me? You think I’m the one who pulled away?” Her laugh holds no humor.
“You’re going to London, Alex! Yeah, Trinity told me about that, too.”
She throws up her hands like this is the most exasperating conversation she’s ever had. Not that I disagree. “You knew I was going to London. We had a whole conversation about it.”
“You said you’d been looking at schools. Not that you had already applied. You let me believe you were going for grad school.” Alex sighs like this was common fucking knowledge. “When were you going to tell me you meant this year?”
“When I got my acceptance letter of transfer.”
“Jesus, Alex.” The rain picks up slightly, and a handful of people pass, not caring in the least about us fighting in the middle of the sidewalk. “Is Trinity going with you?”
“To London?” she asks, confused. “Is that what this is about?”
“No,” I shout. “It’s about you breaking your promise. You swore you wouldn’t leave.”
“You said, college notwithstanding,” she yells back. “This is college. London is college.”
“Right.” I did say that. Except that’s not what this is, and we both know it. “Then this is about nothing.”
“Jules.” She doesn’t believe me. I can tell by her voice. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”
She’s right. It’s not nothing. It’s everything.
It’s the way my feelings shifted so suddenly when Alex returned home from Europe.
It’s the way I craved to touch her in ways I’ve never wanted to touch anyone before.
It’s the way she handled me like I was the most incredible thing in the world and how I yearn to be touched that way again.
It’s also the way she moved on like I was just another night, just another Sophia or Simone. It’s the way she doesn’t seem to care about any of it while I’m stuck in this endless loop of want.
Cold drops of rain slide down my face, but all I can feel are the warm set of tears racing down my cheeks too quickly to wipe away.
I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to tell my best friend I think I may have real feelings for her, ones that involve an entirely different kind of relationship.
I don’t know how to tell her I’m terrified of never wanting someone else ever again.
I’m terrified that I’m losing my friend and telling her such things will push her away indefinitely.
“I want to know why you’re so upset about this. Tell me what’s going on.”
Her pleading kills me. My heart splinters into a million different pieces because I need her to say it. I need her to figure it all out because I don’t know how to find the words or sort through the onslaught of emotions. I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Jules,” she says again.
I hate how she says my name. It feels like a stake right through my heart.
Slowly, I open my eyes. For a second, I think she understands that for me, our night together wasn’t an experiment but something so much more.
I know she didn’t want things to change between us, and I’m trying, I’m trying so hard for them not to.
But I don’t know how to look at her as just a friend. Not anymore.
Her brows crease, and she tilts her head, and I realize she just doesn’t get it.
“Nothing,” I tell her again. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
She stares at me, like she knows I’m not telling her something, but she doesn’t press. She never presses.
Chloe jogs over and pulls the collar up on her jacket. “Got my phone. Jeez, it’s cold.” She looks from me to Alex. “What happened? What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Alex says, repeating my words. She pulls out her phone and turns away. “I’ll grab the Lyft.”
“Seriously, what just happened?” Chloe asks.
I shake my head because I don’t want to talk about it.
Chloe sits in between us on the ride back to Alex’s building.
She tries to break the silence with humor, but neither I nor Alex respond, so she eventually gives up.
None of us says anything else the rest of the way.
When we get into our pajamas, Chloe climbs into Alex’s roommate’s vacant bed with me, leaving Alex to sleep alone.
We mumble a series of good nights, and Alex turns off the light.
With Chloe snoring lightly beside me, I lie wide awake, replaying the night like a broken record.
A part of me wishes I never came to visit.
That I stayed on campus and spent fall break studying or working out and still believing Alex was single and might want to explore something other than friendship with me.
It would’ve saved me this heartache, that’s for damn sure.
The worst part is, I know it’s not Alex’s fault, even though it’s easy to blame her.
She told me from the start that all she wanted was friendship.
To expect her to want more just because I do isn’t fair.
I promised her more than once that sleeping together wouldn’t affect our friendship, and yet, here I am, breaking that promise and acting like a jealous ex-girlfriend.
No wonder she doesn’t tell me about the girls she sleeps with.
The city lights leak through the half-closed curtains. I look at the bed across the room. Alex lies on her side facing me, still awake. We stare at each other for an infinite amount of time until my eyes become heavy, and I can no longer hold her gaze.