43. CHARLOTTE
43
J ulie bursts through the door, slamming the door shut with a loud bang, making me jolt a bit as I look up from my desk.
“Dear Lord, Jules. I’m trying to study.”
“Well, you can stop trying, because once you’ve heard what I heard, your head will process nothing .” She bounces onto her bed, and I look up at her with a furrowed brow.
“Have you seen the news?”
I frown at her definition of news, pretty sure she hasn’t been watching CNN in the last hour. “US Today is not news, Julie. It’s gossip.”
“Yeah, well, the latest gossip is that Hunter is moving in with Laurie.”
My face falls, even though I do my best to keep it straight as my heart pounds out of my chest.
“Are you shitting me?”
She shakes her head, her eyes staying completely focused on mine for several moments, probably wondering why I’m not freaking out yet.
Truth is, I am.
There’s a weird sensation that brings every nerve in my body alive, but in a way that makes me want to go to bed and sleep it off, hoping it’s not there anymore when I wake up. Like some kind of stomach bug.
I slowly get up, walking toward my bed beside her, dropping my back on it as I stare up at the ceiling, hypnotized by the string of lights we hung up.
“Show me.” I reach out my hand for her phone.
She places it in my hand while I keep my gaze on the ceiling, swallowing hard, trying to find the courage to look at whatever shitty article will ruin the rest of my day. Or week. Or maybe even fucking year. Bringing the phone up, my eyes look at the screen, a picture of Hunter walking hand in hand with the most popular model in LA. They’ve been dating for months now, so I should be used to it right now.
But still, bile rises in the back of my throat as I soak up the discomfort that it’s giving me. Hunter is looking as good as always, his tattooed arms even more chiseled, his torso covered by a white t-shirt. A black snapback sits on his head, as if he’s been trying to stay incognito, but his boyish smirk gives his identity away. Laurie looks great, as always, in a dress that hugs all her curves, sparkling enough for a night of clubbing even though it’s broad daylight.
It doesn’t escape me that she’s everything I’m not. One of the most famous realtors in LA is standing next to them, as it looks like they enter a house that is listed for sale as said in the article. I keep scrolling down, torturing myself with every new picture that appears, until the last one feels like a knife cutting through my chest. I watch Hunter’s mouth covering hers, forming a pit in my stomach, making it almost impossible to not hurl up my lunch.
I knew this day would come.
I saw it coming from the moment he told me he was going to date her to please the AFA.
She’s gorgeous, successful. A carbon copy of the girls he used to fool around with in high school.
But I’d expected the fucker to tell me .
Instead, I find out through US Today.
I know this last year we didn’t touch base as much as we used to. In fact, lately, we only catch up every month or so, and our conversations are getting shorter and more superficial as the time passes by.
It’s mostly me, I guess? With every fight he wins, his Instagram account grows by thousands within days, and by the time word got out about him and Laurie, he hit one million followers. We are living different lives.
He became a millionaire real quick, living that same lifestyle when he wasn’t in the gym. He posts pictures on yachts, exclusive trips, launch parties, and he’s always with her. His life is filled with glamor and champagne, whereas mine is filled with instant noodles and cheap beer.
I became more hesitant about sharing my simple college life. So, I get it. We’re not as close as we used to be, and both of us are to blame for that. But I still expect him to share the shit that matters? Moving in with the girl you claimed not to be serious with is a big fucking deal in my book.
I breathe loudly, my anger taking over my nausea as I grab my phone from my desk, getting comfortable on the bed, yet feeling like a knife is going through my heart.
“What are you doing?” Julie's eyes flash with panic, widening when she watches how I put the phone to my ear.
“What do you think? Telling him he’s a fucking asshole.”
“Charlie! You can’t do that!” she hisses. “He’s not your boyfriend.”
“I know, Julie.” I scowl, throwing my pillow at her in frustration. “I’m his best friend, right? As his best friend, I expect him to tell me he’s moving in with someone. Not some fucking trashy magazine.”
“Technically, I told you. ”
“Shut up.” I listen to the dial tone, getting more pissed the longer it takes for him to answer. I’m about two seconds away from throwing my phone across the room, when finally, his voice sounds.
“Hey, Charls.” His oblivious tone only builds the rage inside of me.
“Hey, Hunt. ” I glare into the room. “What’s going on?” My voice is ominous, and I know he can hear it when he lets out a deep sigh.
“You found out.”
“It’s kinda hard not to find out when it’s all over the damn internet, Hunter.”
“I’m sorry. I was gonna tell you.”
“When, Hunter? Your last fight was last week. Don’t tell me you weren’t planning on moving in with her then.”
He stays quiet, and I close my eyes, shaking my head in frustration. When I open my eyes, Julie’s sitting in front of me. She’s giving me a sympathetic look, offering me a sweet smile as her chest moves up and down slowly, silently telling me to breathe.
“What do you want me to say, Charls?”
“Well, that’s the thing, Hunt. I wanted you to say anything. Because I thought that’s what friends do. We share the important shit with each other.” And it hits me. This is the end. This is it. That final push that’s been lurking in the shadows. My heart is crumbling inside my chest, making my voice strained and unsteady. “But we haven’t shared shit in the last year.”
“What are you saying?”
I close my eyes once more, feeling them well up while the fatigue in my body takes over. I’m so tired of trying to keep our friendship what it was. But while he’s in California, living the best life I might wish for him, I’m here. Trying to get a degree, staying close to home to make sure I can be home within a few hours if I need to. He’s exploring the world, fighting. I can’t go any farther than The University of North Carolina, because even that two-hour drive back home seems like forever, in case my mama might need me again.
“I’m saying we should stop pretending. We are not friends. Not anymore.” Tears start to stream down my cheeks, but I know it’s true. We might have been great together, but the distance made us grow apart, and living different lives killed us. We knew it from the moment I landed in LA last summer, but we refused to believe it.
We believed we could make it work. Or at least, I truly did.
But at some point, you have to acknowledge defeat and just accept that you can’t.
“I wish you the best, Hunter. I hope you get the life that you deserve. Because you deserve it all. But we have to let go.”
“Charls.” His voice tells me he knows I’m right, and with that thought, I say goodbye once more.
“Don’t call me anymore, Hunt.” Before he can say anything else, I hang up the phone with a heavy heart, before I slide my body to the floor, breaking down. Burying my face in my hands, I sob, feeling Julie’s arms wrap around me. The pain is threatening to pull me under, pouring out of me like the Hoover Dam just broke, the hole getting bigger when I notice my phone next to my knee, relentlessly buzzing over the linoleum floor.
Hunter .
I close my eyes, tears flowing heavily, because I know I can’t pick up that phone again.
“Sssh, it’s okay, girl. I got you.” Julie strokes my hair, cradling me as I let it all out.
The frustration of last year. How badly we tried to make it work, to stay friends, to stay connected, but no matter what we did, we both knew we were slipping away with no clue how to hold on. It takes me a few minutes to calm down, and I reach for my phone, seeing twenty missed calls from Hunter.
“You think I made the right choice?”
“Hard to say, girl,” she answers honestly, brushing my hair out of my face. “But I think it was necessary.”
I nod in agreement, looking at my phone.
“He’s gonna keep calling.”
“Yeah, he is.” She lets out a sad chuckle. “You want to answer it?”
“No.” I shake my head, wiping tears away with the back of my hand. “I don’t.”
Answering that phone will give him the chance to lure me back in, and I need to break loose from Hunter Hansen, preferably before it tears me apart.
If it hasn’t already.