Becca

Chapter 13

Becca

30 Days till Death

Knock. Knock. Knock. The rap of knuckles against the door is as obnoxious as beating pans.

Everything aches—my throat, my head, my stomach—but I force myself to sit up and tear the blankets off. “Just a second.” Tugging on a shirt and pajama shorts I hobble over to the door and open it. My best friend stares back at me, eyes wide with shock at the state of me. It makes me thankful I at least showered when I woke up to puke again in the middle of the night. “Come in.”

“You look like shit.” She closes the door behind her, then leans against it with her arms crossed. “How much did you drink last night?” She looks like she hardly had any, fresh-faced with her hair piled on her head in tangled curls. Her leggings, half-zipped hoodie, and sports bra say comfortable confidence, but her ram-rod straight back, grimace, and fidgeting fingers prove that’s a lie. How could there have ever been any honesty in a friendship like this?

“Wow, thanks.” I somehow find the strength to roll my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Look, Bec. I came because I’m worried about you. We’re worried about you.”

I scoff. “The lack of effort and an apology says different.”

It’s Meg’s turn to take offense. “You think I owe you an apology?” She leans her head back against the door, her gaze tracing the remnants of glowing stars on the ceiling. “I’m not here to argue. I’m here to make sure you’re okay. Seeing you with Nate last night, it...what the hell is up with that?”

“Nothing. It’s not what it looked like, okay?” Heaving a heavy sigh, I turn toward the window to make it easier to tell the lie. “We were just hanging out. He needed someone to talk to about Aiden, that’s all.”

“Cut the shit.” Meg pushes off the door, coming to stand beside me. “I’ve been your best friend for years. Do you think you can lie to me so easily?”

“I said I’m fine.” I whirl around to face her, irritation flaring. “You need to leave this alone.” It’s a struggle not to soften at the flash of hurt in her eyes. “What I do isn’t your business. Not anymore.”

“I don’t think you are. We’ve barely seen you around in months, you’re hardly ever in lecture, and then last night, you were at the party with Nate. I saw you go upstairs with him.”

“And?” Panic seizes me. She can’t know the truth.

“What do you mean ‘and’? I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I know something is up.” Meg puts a hand on my shoulder, heavy and judgmental. “The Becca I knew wouldn’t go near Nate with a ten-foot pole. I know things have been…strained, but I know you despite whatever you’ve tried to convince yourself.”

“What do you even care?” I hold her gaze in a challenge. “It’s not like we’re friends.” My shoulders square, pent-up anger spurring me on. “Were we ever friends? Or were you just trying to get close to me for your own purposes? How do I know you didn’t seek me out based on a rumor?” The rational part of me regrets the hurtful insinuation instantly, but the wounded part of me is intent on pushing her away whatever the cost.

Meg sucks in a sharp breath and levels me with a look that says, ‘You can’t bullshit me’. “Fuck that, Bec. Don’t even try that with me. You and I both know our friendship was real.”

“Maybe, but it’s not anymore.” Like a living chess piece, I move myself out of Meg’s orbit. She’s getting too close. “Whatever we once were doesn’t matter anymore. Mind your business and I’ll mind mine.” Turning the handle, I crack the door, then point to the opening. “He’s just bored, looking for something to entertain himself. It’ll blow over. I’ve got it handled.”

Meg acts like she’s going to accept the dismissal, but then turns back to me at the last second, bringing our faces close together. It hurts to be this close when we’ve fallen so far apart. “I’ve seen the comments.”

“The what?”

“The comments, Bec. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean. I’ve seen the comments Nate and those assholes are leaving on your pictures. Whatever’s going on, it’s not just going to go away on its own.” With a deep breath, I close the door again, trying to contain the mess. “You can tell me anything. I don’t care about what happened at the party. I under—I accept that you don’t feel the same way for me. I can live with that. I just want to be here for you.”

“That’s not an option,” I say with the finality of a gavel.

“Is it because of Aiden? You should tell him.” Meg rushes toward me, ignoring or maybe not noticing how I shuffle back, and takes my hand. The familiarity between us doesn’t fit right anymore.

“No. No. Leave Aiden out of this.” I tear my hand away and turn my back, busying myself with the papers on my desk. “I really don’t have time for this. This semester is kicking my ass.” A half-truth. “You know how important it is for me to keep up my GPA. I need to be studying.”

With those attentive eyes that now read so differently, she watches me carefully. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. What did you even do to get on their bad side like this? I just… I just don’t understand, why are you letting them treat you like this? You were one of them, don’t you know how to handle them?”

“I was not one of them.”

“Okay, but I mean, you hung out with them for years.” Meg holds her hands up. “You might not have been mean to people the way they were, but you were there.”

“I haven’t been that person in a long time.”

“I know, Bec, I know. And you know how much I love to have been the catalyst for your change of heart, but I’m just saying.”

“It’s different.” I keep my gaze fixed on the floor.

Meg asks the question I’m trying desperately to evade “But why?” Frustration laces her tone as she cradles my hands and brings them to her chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The harsh swallow that breaks the silence says ‘a lot’ but what comes out of my mouth is very different. “Like I said, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be fine. I am fine .” A heavy sigh leaves me as I attempt to expel the negativity that’s attached itself to me.

Liar. You’re anything but fine. The old Becca inside me screams. You just tried to kill yourself. That distant part of me is desperate to confess to my friend. The wiser part of myself, broken as she may be, knows better. This is the only safe course.

Worry creases Meg’s forehead but there’s something else hiding behind her conflicted gaze. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay, you’re obviously not.” Her eyes soften and her lips part as she rubs a hand up my arm, the affection dangerous to my resolve.

Abruptly, I step back forcing distance between us, reducing the boiling over emotions to a simmer. “You should go.”

“Bec, please.”

I can’t acknowledge the yearning in my best friend’s eyes, not after everything.

“I’m not doing this. I want you to leave.”

“Fine. But you have to promise me that you’ll tell Aiden. He’ll make it stop. You don’t deserve to be harassed.”

“Yeah, okay; I’ll tell him. Will you go now?” The agreement is empty and meaningless to me.

She steps closer, holding my gaze with a look of deep care that threatens to lull me into a confession. “I know you’re going through some things right now. I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.”

Silent tension pulls taut between us, but I cut it with dismissal as I pull the door open and step into the hall. Reluctantly, Meg follows me out.

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