Chapter 29 - Tate
twenty-nine
Tate
February
Ididn’t think Valentine’s Day this year could get any worse. Yet, I woke up to find that my apartment complex announced the water would be off in our building for at least the next twenty-four hours.
I guess there was a major pipe leak or something similar overnight, and while the building works on fixing it, we don’t have water.
Which completely ruined my plans of sitting in a bubble bath, watching romance movies, and eating a pizza.
I’m just lucky that Jere told me I could come over and hang out at their place because he was pretty sure it would be empty for the evening.
I didn’t ask any questions because, truthfully, I didn’t want to know what Fletcher was going to be up to today. I knew Zeke was going to be with his mom for his birthday because that’s the only reason their house wouldn’t be filled with a ton of people for a party.
Jere always spends Valentine’s Day with his mom and sisters; typically, it’s just in the morning to make the party, but I think he’s sleeping back at home tonight.
Declan and Ember are enjoying their first Valentine’s together, and Brooks is with Liv... as always.
I know where everyone is tonight, who they’re with, aside from one person—
Fletcher.
I told the girls I talked to him, and things are better. It even seemed realistic because he was the one who told me that Zeke wasn’t throwing a party for his birthday this year. Truthfully, though, I think I’ve just gotten really good at putting on a facade.
The rest of the guys were oblivious when we were all together that anything was wrong; I just needed to perfect that and make sure everyone felt that way.
So, we’ve talked, we’ve hung out, typically with other people, but things feel normal… to them, anyway.
I use the excuse of writing new music and posting on social media as the reason why I don’t attend as many events or hang out every time I’m invited over here.
Honestly, the more I fake everything being okay, the more I start to believe it myself.
Then I start thinking about Fletcher with Casey, and I get a burning sensation in my chest. I begin to feel sick to my stomach, and I hate it.
I hate that no guy will ever compare to Fletch.
I hate that no matter how many guys flirt with me at parties, my eyes always find his.
I hate that I’m constantly wondering what he’s up to and who he’s with.
I hate that no kiss has ever compared to the one I shared with him.
And most of all—
I hate him.
For not feeling the same way.
Which I know isn’t fair to him; he has every right not to be in love with me. I just hate that no matter how hard I try, I can’t fall out of love with him.
Which is why I’m on my third movie of the night. The Broken Hearts Gallery has become a staple repeat on my romance movie-watching nights since I watched it with the girls a few months ago.
And even though I’ve seen it a dozen times, it still gets to me.
Every. Single. Time.
I shove my spoon into my pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food, scraping the ice cream so it remains in an even layer, and then I pop it into my mouth.
As I do, I hear keys jingle in the door and the lock turn.
My heart sinks into my stomach because I have no idea who’s standing on the other side of that door.
Fletcher pushes through the front door, and my spoon falls out of my mouth.
Just my fucking luck.
“Hey.” Fletcher’s eyes widen as he sees me on the couch, the door sitting open behind him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Yeah, well, the water isn’t working at the apartments, so Jere told me I could come shower here and hang out for the time being.”
I grab my spoon from my lap and set it on the coffee table, along with my ice cream.
“You messaged Jere over me?”
“I knew he was with his family; I didn’t know where you were. Didn’t want to bother you.”
It’s not completely a lie. I just didn’t want to find out what Fletcher was doing; that’s why I didn’t message him. Maybe the awkwardness between us is on me because it’s over the whole Casey situation. Still, he hasn’t done anything to try to fix it.
“You sure that’s the only reason?”
“Yup.”
“Because you’ve been distant from me since the New Year. When we’re with everyone, things seem fine, but when it comes down to the two of us communicating, it’s weird.”
Oh. Great. Here we go.
“Sorry, you feel that way. I don’t.”
I do.
“Fine.” He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of water. “If we’re going to act like there’s not something more going on here, then fine.”
“Fletch, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to admit that you’re mad at me.”
“Mad at you?” I scoff, pushing myself off the couch. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Becca said that I was being an idiot and that you were upset that I didn’t confide in you about Casey and—”
“Oh, so you told Becca about your relationship but not the person who’s supposed to be your best friend?” I cross my arms. “You went to a girl you’ve known for five minutes over one you’ve known for like fifteen years?”
Not that I wasn’t pissed before, but I sure as hell am pissed now.
I didn’t know if I was angry at Fletcher for going out with Casey or if I was furious that he didn’t tell me it was turning into something more.
But now I know. I’m pissed that the one person he should’ve turned to in all of this, he didn’t turn to.
“It wasn’t like that. And Casey and I weren’t in a relationship. We were… hanging out, or I don’t fucking know.”
I ignore the fact that Fletcher is talking about Casey in the past tense because I’ve had this anger building up for weeks. I don’t think I can pause this conversation to find out what he means by that.
“What wasn’t it like? You didn’t go to Becca to get relationship advice instead of turning to me? The person you always turn to.”
“I went to Becca because things were already weird between us. That night in the bar, you weren’t the Tate I’m in love with. You were different. You were cold and distant and—”
“Maybe because my best friend showed up at a bar with a girl who made my life miserable in high school, Fletcher.
Maybe I was pissed that my best friend was so blinded by the fact he might finally get laid again to pick up on the backhanded bullshit Casey threw at me at the grocery store.
Maybe I didn't feel— wait, what did you say?”
His words slowly sink in, and I don’t know how to feel about them. Fletcher and I have said we love each other many times in our lives… but something about the way he said it… felt different.
“Don’t do that.” His nose scrunches as he shakes his head, turning around and then slowly turning back. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I said.”
“You don’t do that!” It’s a stupid comeback, but I don’t know how to react to it.
“You don’t get to come in here and badger me over this whole bullshit situation and then tell me I’m not the same girl you fell in love with.
New flash, Fletcher, that stupid girl you knew in high school, the one who kissed you, got her heart broken.
You don’t get to stand there and tell me I’m not the girl you fell in love with when you didn’t want her. ”
“What do you mean?” He takes a step toward me.
I take a step back.
“If you wanted that girl, you would have her.”
“Tate.”
“No. It took everything in me, everything, to put that girl back together. So I’m sorry if the pieces weren’t put back together the way you wanted them to be, but she had to learn to move on and to do that, she needed to change.”
“That’s not fair.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip. “You shut that down. You shut us down. You don’t get to put that on me when I was all in.”
“All in?” I force a laugh, running my hand through my hair. “All in, Fletch? You laughed in my face. You—”
“I came to talk to you about that kiss, and you told me it was a mistake.”
I march forward, leaving mere inches between our bodies.
“You didn’t argue. Your response was so immediate, I knew—”
“You knew nothing!” His hands fly in the air.
“I agreed with you because I thought it was the only thing that would save our friendship. You don’t get to stand there and blame me for this when you did the same thing.
If we’re being honest right now, you shut down that kiss because you were scared I was coming to do just that.
You chickened out. It’s not my fault that you forced my hand into agreeing with you. ”
“Forced your hand? I was scared! Can you blame me? You were a flirt. You made out with girls all the time at those stupid parties, and I was supposed to assume I was different?”
“Yeah, you were. Because you weren’t like those other girls. You were my best friend. The one person who understood me like no one else. And the one person I couldn’t have. Everyone else was just a distraction, Tate, because I didn’t want to lose you.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
Tears sting my eyes, and I do everything I can to hold them inside.
“So that’s it? We’re just throwing away over fifteen years of friendship?”
“I don’t know where we go from here, Fletch.”
I can’t even look at him.
I’ve run from my feelings for so long to avoid this moment… and here it is… happening anyway.
He lets out a shaky breath.
“I guess that’s it then.” I look up at him, but he’s not looking in my direction. He’s staring at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should go.”
“No—” I don’t get to finish my sentence before he’s out the door. He doesn’t even bother closing it behind him. “Fuck.” I fall onto the couch. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I run my hands over my face as if that will make everything better. As if that will ease the pain. But I know it won’t. Nothing will. My biggest fear just happened. I lost the most important person in my life, and I don’t even know what to do now.
I try to hold in the tears, but it’s months of confusion, anger, and pain built up, and the second a tear escapes, the floodgates open.