The Truths We Told

by Blair, E. K.

“No worries,” the guy says as I walk back to the elevators.

  The drive home seems much longer than the drive there as I wade through the swarm of questions and confusion. All it took was the mere mention of her name to take me right back to a year ago and all the moments before. Never has a girl, or anyone for that matter, been able to get to me like she did. It took no effort for the two of us to fall into a friendship. Shit, Kate was able to get me to open up in ways no one else has managed to do. Not that I exposed much, but what little I did bonded us.

  It wasn’t until she got together with Caleb that I noticed the tug in my chest that I couldn’t get rid of. As time passed, that feeling became more and more tangible in the most puzzling way. Maybe it was my manifesting anger toward her boyfriend or the unspoken awareness that something wasn’t right. I don’t know, but the sensation is back and more ferocious than before.

  In the time it takes me to return to the condo, defeat has morphed into anger, and I walk straight to Micah’s room.

  “Where is she?”

  Ady’s mouth gapes when she sits up.

  “I went to her condo, but she doesn’t live there anymore.”

  “Trent—”

  “You said you were at her place today.”

  Micah picks up the remote and turns the television off. “You went over there?”

  There’s no time for me to respond before Ady tells me, “When I said reach out to her, I didn’t mean go over there. I told you she needs space.”

  “But she’s ready to be around you?” I press when I step deeper into the room. “Come on, Ady. Just tell me where she lives.”

  “Why don’t you try calling her?”

  “Why are you being so secretive?”

  “Dude, easy,” Micah says when my voice sharpens, but I don’t expect him to understand where I’m coming from.

  “I’m not being secretive.” Her tone matches mine as her eyes intensify. “Just leave her alone.”

  Leave her alone? What the fuck?

  “Stop hounding her, man,” Micah says in defense of Ady, who has tears building in her eyes. “What’s your problem?”

  “What’s my problem?” I turn to Ady and throw it back to her. “What’s your problem? Why won’t you just tell me?”

  “Because!” she snaps, her outburst shocking me. “I know how she feels right now.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Back off, Trent,” Micah warns.

  “No, tell me.”

  “Because someone hurt me too!” she shouts and then catches herself, pressing her lips together.

  It’s a punch to my gut.

  “Fuck, Ady,” I breathe regretfully. “I’m sorry.”

  “Dude, just get out.”

  I don’t say another word, even though my conscience is telling me to go over to her and make things right. Instead, I turn on my heel, walk to the living room, and collapse onto the sofa.

  I’m staring at the ceiling as things begin to crystalize from all angles, each one forming a clarity that’s difficult to digest. My focus shifts to Ady as I go back in my head and recall how she secluded herself from everything and everyone for months after she came to Miami. It was an abrupt move on her part, and I’ll never forget the day I walked in on her crying hysterically and looking at me as if I were a ghost.

  There are so many instances that start making sense, and I have to wonder if Kate is now a reflection of who Ady used to be. If Kate is as unrecognizable as Ady was when she first moved here.

  I feel sick to my stomach for how I just behaved—it isn’t who I am, but this entire situation has me completely wound up. For years, I’ve been in my own world, living free with little to no care, all the while unable to see that the people who mean the most to me have been going through some serious shit.

  Micah steps out of his room and shuts the door behind him.

  “Dude, I’m sorry.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he questions when he walks over to me.

  With a heavy sigh, I admit, “Honestly, I don’t know.” It’s so out of my character to get riled up like that. “Is she pissed at me?”

  “No, but today kind of dug up some shit for her, and she doesn’t need your shit too.” He picks up his backpack and slings it over his shoulders. “I have to get to class. Try to lie low, man.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

  But how can I lie low, knowing that I upset her? After Micah leaves, I make my way to his room and tap on the door.

  “It’s open,” she says, and when I step in and catch sight of her splotchy face, I drop my eyes in shame.

  “I’m an asshole,” I say as I go over and sit next to her on the bed. “I’m sorry.” I don’t hesitate before I pull her in for a hug, and I’m relieved when she doesn’t resist.

  “It’s okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Drawing back, I look at the girl who has become a little sister to me in a sense, and silently berate myself for acting like a jerk.

  “Was there something going on between you two?” she asks. “I’ve never seen you get so upset.”

  Shaking my head, I admit, “No. I just . . .” I’m at a loss for words, because I don’t know how to make sense of whatever the fuck is going on with me. “I just care about her.”

  “I do too.”

  “I know. Can you at least tell me if she’s okay?”

  “It’s hard to say. From the outside, she looked fine, I guess—too thin, but fine.” Ady gives me a small smile. “I don’t want to go behind her back and say things I doubt she wants me telling anyone.”

  “No, I get it,” I respond. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to keep apologizing. The whole situation is messed up, but I know she’ll pull herself back together, she just needs time.”

  I get what she’s saying, but it doesn’t quell my pressing impulse to go find Kate, to see for myself that she’s okay, and talk to her. Right now, it weighs so heavily on me that it aches. It’s a foreign feeling I don’t know what to do with or how to manage. Truthfully, it’s damn near killing me to know she’s close enough for Ady to see but still so far out of my reach, as if it’s a personal rejection. But what pains me the most is the possibility that she’s going through what Ady went through and that she’s all alone. It’s enough to breed an infestation of torment inside me.

  KATE

  Warmth seeps into the palms of my hands as I cradle my cup of coffee. There’s a comfort to be discovered while sitting in a coffee shop. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans—smoky and nutty with a hint of vanilla—has the ability to make you forget what lies outside the doors. It’s actually funny how a smell can alter your thoughts and emotions or wrap you in memories of the past, consoling you or upsetting you, possibly triggering you and forcing a physical reaction.

  I’ve sat here in the student center, in this very spot, many times since freshman year, but today, I’m met with the glint of a silver lining—that glint being Ady. I’ve found myself leaning on her over the last two weeks, whether it be a text, a phone call, or asking her to meet me for coffee between classes. Ady asks for no explanations, no apologies, no details of the past whatsoever, and for that, I am so thankful for her presence in my life. It also makes me feel guilty for how intrusive I used to be with her . . . if only I had known. But even if I had, would I have understood?

  “Hey, girl,” she exhausts as she drops her bag on the floor and plops down in the seat across from me. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Can I have a taste?”

  I hand my drink over, and she takes a sip, closing her eyes in delight as she does. “I can wait while you order something.”

  She hands the paper cup back to me. “No, I’m fine. I’m trying to cut back on my caffeine. I got addicted to those energy drinks last semester.”

  “Those are the worst.”

  “Tell me about it, but my course load had me so stressed out. There wer
en’t enough hours in the day,” she says, and I nod in understanding. Even though I wasn’t here, the online classes I was taking had me completely overwhelmed. “So, what’s going on? What did you want to talk about?”

  “Nothing really,” I confess.

  “You seriously had me run my butt all the way across campus for nothing? Girl, I thought you were in crisis mode.” Her face is pinched in mock annoyance, and I laugh.

  Most days feel as if I am in crisis mode, but surprisingly, today isn’t one of them.

  “For real, though, is everything okay?”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to be alone but not want to be around people at the same time.” I shake my head. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It makes complete sense.”

  Her understanding is a relief. The last thing I want to do is try to dissect these unexplainable emotions that feel like a never-ending rollercoaster.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “You know I’m always here for you if you ever change your mind.”

  “I know.”

  She gives a sympathetic nod before a smile starts to tug its way onto her lips. “You’ll never believe what happened last night.”

  “What?”

  “So, Micah and I were hanging out, while Trent was on the balcony, talking on his phone. When he came back inside, he left the door open and a damn mockingbird got into the condo.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “The harder Micah tried to get the bird out, the more frantically it flew around.”

  I start laughing. “What did you do?”

  “I was freaking out, running around and closing all the doors while Trent was completely worthless.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “He was stoned, so all he could do was laugh. At one point, he literally offered the bird the freaking salute from The Hunger Games.”

  “Oh my god, that isn’t even the same bird.”

  “I know!”

  I’m laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes because I can picture this whole scenario, but beneath my laughter is a pinch of sadness. Last night while they were all dealing with this very comical situation, I was on my sofa beneath a cloud of depression until I fell into a night of fitful sleep.

  “How did you get the bird out?”

  “When Micah started cussing out Trent, Trent grabbed a broom and knocked the life out of the bird and destroyed the flat screen in our living room.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I can’t make this stuff up,” she says.

  “So, the bird died?”

  She nods. “And we have to buy a new television because he completely shattered the screen.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I hold my smile until it pains me. As the moment of levity subsides and veers into something more lamenting, my lips drop. It’s a shift I come across from time to time. I find pieces of life around me that grant me a sliver of joy, only to have it pass as quickly as dust in the wind. Ady gives me glimpses of my life before Caleb, and there’s a longing to have that back again, but it’s gone. There’s too much space between then and now, and it’s the now that has me trapped.

  “He called me,” I murmur out of the blue, and when I see her confusion, I clarify, “Trent.”

  With a slow nod, she says, “I know.”

  “You know? You told him I was back?”

  “I told Micah, and he overheard.”

  Flushed with insecurity, I ask, “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. I just told him that I ran into you and that we talked, but I didn’t say about what, and Micah didn’t ask. He isn’t nosy like that.”

  “And Trent?”

  She sighs. “I told him to give you time and maybe to reach out to you.”

  I fret because hanging out with Ady is one thing, but I’m not ready to face Trent—not after how I left him that night.

  “Kate, I promise. There hasn’t been anything for me to even say because you haven’t told me anything.”

  She’s right, but just being aware that Trent knows I’m back has me on edge.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I ask with a slip of humor.

  “Why won’t you talk to Trent?”

  Mindlessly, I pick at the cardboard sleeve on my coffee cup before pinching my eyes shut. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

  “He was upset,” she tells me. “When he heard that I had seen you, he got really upset. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “Really?” I want to ask her if he was upset because she’d seen me and he hadn’t or if he was upset that I was back.

  “He went to your old condo, and when he found out you no longer lived there, he demanded that I tell him your new address.”

  “You didn’t, did you?”

  “No,” she responds emphatically. “It ticked him off that I wouldn’t. Even Micah was surprised by Trent’s reaction.”

  I think about that night I snuck out of their condo, how he called me nonstop, and how I ignored him when he showed up at my door.

  I felt horrible—I still do.

  I can’t even imagine what that did to him.

  No doubt he was pissed, but the next day, he started calling again. That was when I blocked his number because I couldn’t take it anymore. It was easier to just avoid that whole situation, so I did.

  Still, there were times I missed him. Trent was my friend, and I carried so much guilt for how I threw it all away with no explanation. There was so much regret for never thanking him for getting me away from that party and helping me, and eventually, I unblocked his number. I told myself that, if he were to contact me, I would respond, but he never did. Each day that passed, I became more and more sure that he had given up on me, not that I expected him to still be trying to call. Then, when he does call me, I’m too chicken to pick up.

  “He genuinely cares about you,” she adds after a long pause, and I care about him too.

  “I’m just not ready.”

  She lets out a breathless chuckle I can’t ignore.

  “What?”

  “I remember telling Micah the same thing, how I wasn’t ready to face the truth of my situation,” she says before looking right into my eyes. “He said I would never be ready, but that I couldn’t let that stop me from trying.”

  “That’s a lot easier said than done.”

  “I know,” she says, and I wait for the but that never comes, and I appreciate her not pushing.

  When Ady has to leave for her next class, I decide to take a drive to clear my head before going back to my place. It’s difficult to be here with no distractions from my thoughts, and I’ve been going stir crazy lately. Tonight is no different. Dinner passed a while ago, but there’s no point in feeding this misery of mine, so I skipped eating, opting to do what I swore I never would.

  Sitting in bed with my laptop open, I take a hit off my pen to relax before logging into my social media account and typing in Caleb’s name. I know better than to be doing this, but I can’t help myself. Nights are lonely, and all I have to hold on to are the memories that still live so vibrantly inside me.

  Vibrancy snuffs when I see the first photo in his feed.

  My hands turn to ice, and it’s heartbreak all over again when I look at the girl on his arm and the beaming smiles they both wear as they stand on the red carpet at some event. I would read the caption, but I can’t move my eyes away from his face.

  He’s just as perfect as always, and the girl next to him is perfection too. She’s nothing like me. Her brown hair is flawless, tucked in a low bun at the nape of her neck. Poised and proper, she’s everything his parents would expect.

  I was never good enough for them, and Caleb knew it. All of us did.

  After closing the lid to the computer, I pick up my cell and tap on his name to text him, but what do I say? Would it even matter?
I wonder if he’s already fallen in love with her. I’m sure he has, and I’m sure she doesn’t let him down and make him hit her the way I always did.

  I don’t want to cry, so I take another hit to dull the misery brewing underneath my ribs. It’s a storm filled with sadness, anger, and jealousy that kicks my self-esteem behind the knees. How is it that he’s moved on when I’m still suffering?

  One question breeds two more in its wake, and before I lose all control and break down, I shoot a message to Ady.

  Me: Just saw a photo of Caleb with a girl.

  With another pull off my pen, I’m taken from chill to completely stoned.

  Ady: I’m coming over.

  I try to text her back, but my head refuses to work in conjunction with my fingers, and I can’t type anything out correctly.

  Damn it.

  I decide to call her instead, and after only one ring, she answers.

  “Hey. How are you?”

  “It’s cool. I’m cool. I mean . . . Shit, what?”

  “Are you high?”

  Closing my eyes, I drop my head back against the pillow I’m propped against, but my equilibrium is thrown off. It has me on a tilt-a-whirl, forcing me to open my lids to regain my balance. But was I even off balance?

  “Are you there?” she asks.

  “Wait, what were we talking about?”

  “I asked if you were high, but it’s obvious that you are.”

  “I mean . . . maybe a little.”

  Then I hear Micah in the background asking, “Who are you talking to?”

  “Kate.”

  “Don’t tell him!” I snap. “Oh my god, now he knows.”

  “He already knows we talk, girl.” She starts laughing. “How much did you smoke?”

  “My life suuuucks,” I whine.

  “It doesn’t. Just take it easy, I’ll be over in a bit.”

  With that, she hangs up, and I realize I totally forgot to tell her not to come over, which was the whole point of my calling. Before any more of this high sets in, I hop out of bed and unlock the front door. I’m so blasted, and I’m grateful for the relief it brings. I used to have a higher tolerance, but when Caleb asked me to stop, I did with no questions asked. I didn’t pick the stuff back up until a few weeks ago.