Chapter 21
All our plans go to shit, and Wes and I find ourselves down by the water.
This time, when I’m splayed out like a starfish on the pebbled beach, it’s the opposite of a relaxing paradise.
Everything is a mess. Anya and Mari, my two best friends in the entire world, absolutely hate me.
I’m twisted with guilt and regret, my stomach tangled into a dozen knots.
How did I get here? What could I have done to avoid this?
I should have known it was a ticking time bomb, flying so close to the sun.
Lies always catch up to you. Especially when you’re so reckless about them.
Do I need to start looking at flights home? Or a new place to stay? I can’t even imagine going back to the room tonight. I’ll have to crash with Wes. But what will I do every night after? We still have more than two weeks left in Sorrento.
“You okay, Sora?” Wes’s voice is soft and concerned. He stands over me, blocking out the moon. It makes it look like his hair is on fire.
“No” is all I manage.
“Come on, let’s sit up.” Wes tugs me upright and sits down next to me. He nudges my head to rest on his shoulder as we both stare out at the sea, the ripples of shimmering water. He adjusts his shirt so it’s under my wet, soaking cheek. “Here, cry on my shirt if you want.”
So, I do. We sit there in complete silence except for the sound of my sniffling and the gentle crash of waves.
These are the moments Anya and Mari never see, when Wes is kind and supportive.
They never even gave him a chance to redeem himself.
Why does it have to be him or them? They hadn’t given me a literal ultimatum, but it’s sure felt like one ever since prom.
“Ugh!” I lift my head up and throw it into my hands. “This is so frustrating. I can’t live the life they want me to live. What, is their friendship conditional? If I’m not dating who they want me to date, then we can’t be friends?”
“Honestly, Sora? Girl drama is something I don’t have a ton of experience with.”
“This isn’t drama, Wes. It’s a fight.” I wipe tears from my face.
“But fights pass, right? Everything does. Maybe focus on that?” Wes picks up a pebble and tries skimming it across the water.
He clearly isn’t going to be the one to give me the wisdom I need right now.
And honestly, that’s okay. He’s trying his best. I turn toward him, and he cups my face in his hands.
He presses his lips to my forehead sweetly, then kisses my tears dry before meeting my lips.
The kisses are slow at first, and he keeps going, building.
He is tracing circles on my thigh, and at first, I find some comfort in the closeness, but then he pushes aside the split in the skirt of my dress and his hand creeps up my inner thigh.
I grab his hand. “Wes, I’m not really in the mood right now.”
“Wait, for real?” He pulls back, looking almost offended.
“Did you not just witness the past hour?” What in God’s name would make him think that either of us would still be in the mood after we just found ourselves in World War Three?
“Oh, come on, Sora. We’re in Italy, on vacation, together. Do you want to throw our night away for them? Do you really want to sit here moping?”
I push him away, wrapping my arms around myself. “My best friends since kindergarten basically said they don’t want to be friends anymore. That seems like a pretty good reason to be upset.”
“Jesus, why do you let them get to you?” Wes is annoyed and starting to fidget.
“Listen. You’ll go to college and won’t ever speak to them again.
They’ve never been supportive of you and honestly, I’ve always wondered why you ever hung out with them in the first place.
You’re not on their level, and I mean that in a good way.
They’re… well. They’ve always been jealous of us, and since they aren’t happy with themselves, they don’t want you to be, either. ”
“Are you fucking serious?” I snap. “Do you think they’re jealous of all the times you’ve left me on read, or when you wouldn’t say ‘I love you’ back at prom? Is that what they haven’t been supportive of?”
“Cool. Bring up things from high school. Real mature.”
“Not all of that was from high school. Let me remind you, some of that was from this week.”
“We’ve already gone over that, Soraya. How many times do you need me to apologize for the same thing?” Wes throws his arms up, exasperated.
“You know, I’m not doing this. I’m leaving.
” I push myself to my feet, starting the ascent up the steps with no real destination in mind.
I keep thinking that I’ll hear Wes’s footsteps any moment now, chasing after me to apologize.
Begging me to spend the night at least, so I’ll have somewhere to crash.
But the footsteps never come.