Chapter 23
“CONSTANT CRAVING” BY GLEE CAST
For three straight hours today, I laid in the back of Erica’s car and ran my fingers through her hair.
She cried for reasons she wouldn’t tell me.
Every minute my once strong friend grew deeper involved with her hidden heartache, I itched to call Olivia and ask for some sort of guess into what had happened.
Olivia had to have some idea. She was there this morning. I saw them talking, hugging, and sharing a breakfast bar together. There was plenty of time between me walking over and Olivia disappearing for something to happen, right?
In the best Erica Kane fashion, she suddenly decided she was fine. Randomly and abruptly, my friend stood up and fixed her ponytail, eager to get back to school.
It was bullshit.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I asked, following behind her through the locker room entrance.
Erica kept walking through the winding aisles of tall, black lockers until she found hers near the changing stalls. She spared me a look and rolled her red-rimmed eyes.
“I told you, Q,” she muttered, twirling her lock’s dial. “I’m fine.”
My arms crossed over my chest. She wasn’t fine. She wasn’t fine, and I hated she wouldn’t tell me what was bothering her so much.
“Is it your family?” I asked.
“No,” she mumbled, not meeting my eyes.
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“Did someone bother you?” I stepped closer and ground my teeth. “Was it Chris? Did Chris hurt you?”
Erica yanked the lock of her locker and threw open the door. It hit the locker beside hers loudly as she shook her head. She glanced in my direction, meeting my eyes for a second before turning around and rubbing her face.
“What did he do?” I pushed, following her as she fell onto the bench.
Her fingers tangled in her hair, her ponytail still a mess from me toying with her long, dark locks.
“I swear to Satan, I will fuck him up, Erica. What. Did. He. Do?” I hissed.
Erica looked up at me and rolled her eyes.
“He came over the other night, and my mom invited him to dinner,” she quietly replied.
My brows furrowed. Camila liked having dinner guests.
“My abuela was there too. She loved him. She doesn’t like many people.” Erica’s eyes filled with tears. “I…I told Ollie. I told her my abuela liked him.”
“Okay…” I slowly kneeled in front of her, leaning back on the heels of my clunky boots. “And she’s upset?”
“No.” Erica’s shaky hands slammed against the bench. She looked up, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks. “No, she’s not. She doesn’t even care. She doesn’t see that I care. That I . . .”
“Wanted her to care?” I whispered, taking a quick look up and down our set of lockers. I could hear a few girls from the swim team, but they were in loud conversations with their friends.
Erica stared at me and looked away, her hands roughly rubbing under her eyes.
“Fuck. What am I doing?” She scoffed. “You don’t care about?—”
“I care about you!” I shoved her shoulder roughly, sternly looking into her eyes. “I care about what has you crying in public. I know you, and I’m five steps away from kicking your ass for not talking to me. So, what has you so upset? Cough it up!”
“She didn’t care!” Erica whispered with fury, her amber eyes blurred with tears. “Sh-she didn’t even care. It . . . it was like my words went into her ears and out her ass. She didn’t even see how badly I wanted her to-to just . . . I don’t know. Be upset with me?”
My heart pained for her. I smiled softly and leaned on my knees to clean Erica’s face with my thumb. She leaned into my touch and sniffed, her bottom lip pouting.
“How is Liv supposed to know what you want from her if you have a hard time knowing too?” I teased.
Erica hung her head and shrugged.
“Babe, she’s your best friend,” I reminded her. “She’s going to support you. She’s happy for you because she wants you to be happy.”
“But I’m not happy!” Erica spat, looking away from me and shoving my hands. “I’m not fucking happy. I’m dying over here, and she doesn’t care.”
“Oh, shut up.” I laughed. “Erica, you’re sleeping with Christian most days of the week, and that’s all we know. Excuse us for assuming that’s what you’re happy with. No one is judging you.”
“Not yet.”
I raised my brows at her quiet murmur. She glanced to me and sighed, rolling her eyes and looking away from me.
“Olivia loves you,” I whispered.
A small smile broke out on my lips when Erica hesitantly looked in my direction. I tilted my head with a pointed look and returned to cleaning her face.
“And I know you love her.”
“You love her too.” Erica weakly shrugged.
“Hm.” My eyes flickered over her face as her watery eyes refilled with tears. “Is it the same, though, babe? Just tell me. It’s okay.”
Erica’s jaw clenched. Her body went taut, and her fingers gripped the bench between the slats of the thick planks. Her bottom lip quivered, and then her entire chin trembled violently as she tried to hold it in.
“I fucking hate you, Ellie,” she cried.
I grabbed her cheeks and stood, dropping down on the bench beside her. My lips pressed into her cheek as she squeaked a small sob, pulling her head into my chest.
“It’s going to be okay.” I let her hug my arm and muffle her sob into my shoulder. My lips brushed her hair as I closed my eyes, wondering how long Erica had been struggling with this.
I’d wondered about my friends, but I’d never had enough courage to really poke the bear more than innocent teasing.
“She didn’t care,” Erica repeated, nails digging into my arm. “I thought she would care.”
“Olivia isn’t a jealous person,” I reminded her, chin resting on the top of her head.
I sat sideways on the bench, my legs maneuvered around her body so we were tangled together.
“I don’t know how she feels, but I know she loves you.
I know she wants you to be happy, and she would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant letting you be happy. ”
“Well, I’m not fucking happy.”
“Then tell her that, you idiot.” I flicked Erica’s temple and winced when her hand came down hard on my thigh. I hugged her tight and rubbed my cheek into her head.
I’d been way too distracted with this Dawson assignment. I should have seen this, should have been there to referee in case Olivia’s words were once again misunderstood by Erica. They always were different people trying to communicate the same thing.
“I love you,” I whispered, kissing Erica’s head.
“Fuck you.” Erica sniffled and rubbed her face on my arm.
And still, I knew that bitch loved me too.