Him or Me

by Veronica Larsen

  "William proposed last night. It was such a mind-fuck. We've been fighting, he didn't want to come, then he proposes. I told him I needed to think about it. He expected me to stay behind with him until I gave him my answer. So, that turned into another fight. I asked him why he wouldn't come and he said all of you hate him. I accused him of never making an effort to become part of our group."

  I run a hand over my tired face.

  "I don't think we collectively hate anything," Heath says, eyes forward as we walk. "We wouldn't be able to agree long enough."

  "I just have this nagging feeling he's going to realize, any moment now, how far out of my league he is."

  Heath stops to look at me, his typically playful expression serious as sin. "Please tell me you're kidding." When I just stare at him, he bites out a laugh. "He's not out of your league, Grace. You're out of his. Miles beyond."

  My lips part but words forget to come out. The way his eyes spark with outrage at my confession tugs at my heartstrings. I force myself to look away, knowing he's saying this because he's my friend. The truth is, William's dated nothing but super-fit, gorgeous women in the years since college. I know, because I've creeped all over their photos on social media. William has the looks and money to entertain any woman he wants. And as much as I try to act confident and unconcerned with what others think, never in my life have I been more aware of the fact I'm soft all over, with a few extra pounds lingering from college. I want so badly to be fit and toned, but, like, it's hard.

  "Anyway," I say, wanting to move the subject along, "he's right. None of you like him and it sucks, you know? When your friends don't like your boyfriend."

  "Oh, come on," Heath says, and I follow beside him as we restart our stroll down the path. "None of us like each other. Jackson and Samantha? Unbearable. No one likes them. I'm not even sure they like each other. I was there when they first met. He threatened to impale her then called her a witch. I think she's biding her time to poison him. You already know Delilah is out of her mind. No, out of this world. You and me? You want the lady with the nice tits to die on The Walking Dead and a part of me hates you for it."

  The twitch of my lips is unexpected and something only Heath can elicit from me when I'm feeling the way I am.

  I'm so grateful he doesn't press me on whether I'm going to say yes to the proposal or not. He's allowing me to say what I can manage to wrap my head around and nothing more. This is why it's so easy to talk to Heath.

  I haven't told him everything, though. The real reason the fight with William exploded out of control.

  "Yeah, that's all true," I say. "But look at us, in the middle of nowhere just because Delilah wanted to spend her birthday in the wilderness, caressing trees."

  "We're stuck together, so we stick together." I love the sound of this. We walk in silence for a few more steps before Heath adds, "William sounds really dramatic. Does he cry after sex?"

  "He might, I wouldn't know these days. He hasn't touched me like that in weeks." I tuck my hair behind my ear at what I've just revealed, then rush to explain. "He's so busy with work, and lately, every time we see each other, we get into a fight." I pause, wondering if maybe this was more than I should say to a male friend, even if it is Heath. I forge on because it feels good to talk about it. "He really is broody. It used to be hot and exciting, you know? Back when we were in college, and he was all mysterious and my parents thought he was on drugs."

  "Was he on drugs?"

  "No, it was just eyeliner."

  Heath's nod is distracted, like he's trying to picture the now clean-cut William wearing eyeliner and going through a Goth phase. Things have changed over the past eight years. William and I haven't been together the whole time. We dated briefly in college, broke up, and then linked back up just a few months ago. Things got serious fast. Being with someone I've known since college was somehow comforting, but lately I'm starting to realize the gap between then and now is wide. We're different, and it hasn't been easy picking up from where we left off. It's been like getting to know a new person, while holding on to old expectations.

  Lost in thought, I trip over a tree root and nearly fall. I reach out to Heath, my hand gripping his bicep and feeling the firm muscle under my fingers, which distracts me further.

  Something lands on my foot and I scream out, "Shit! Snake!"

  Heath looks down between our bodies to see what's sitting on top of my shoe.

  "That's a harmless breed of snake known as the twig."

  His hand is at my waist from when he tried to steady me. Before the panic of the twig incident can subside, I'm caught by the way his typically aqua eyes hint toward green as they reflect all the greenery around us. I blink and Heath drops his hands and looks up to something ahead of us.

  Someone's jogging down the path toward us. It's a woman, and even from the distance, it's clear she's dressed in athletic shorts and a sports bra. Toned stomach on full display like she's trying to seduce the fucking trees.

  Heath and I resume our walk, with nothing to look at but her. I can't help but notice her perfect boobs. They're so perfect, they don't even move. If I were jogging at her speed, my boobs would take turns punching me in the eyes, even with a sports bra on. Hers are perfectly perky and firm, just like the rest of her.

  Stomach clenching, I look over at Heath, expecting to catch him ogling the woman as well, but he's looking right at me instead.

  "What is it?" he asks.

  "I'm just trying to figure out where the bear is."

  "Bear?"

  The woman is still far enough away not to hear me, so I add, "It's the only way you'd get me to run through the woods. You'd have to set a bear after me. And even then, I'd weigh my options."

  The jogger smiles at me as she approaches, then her gaze moves to Heath and sweeps over him in a quick but indulgent assessment, her smile becoming flirtatious. I want to stick my foot out and trip her.

  Right as she passes, Heath raises his voice, "I said, no! I'm tired of you trying to stick things up my ass. I'm not having any more of this pegging nonsense."

  The woman's smiling expression slips into one of utter shock as she picks up her pace and passes us without another glance in our direction.

  "Well played," I say to Heath.

  He grins. "I practiced it in my head."

  "I could tell, you zoned out for a second there and your eyes went glassy."

  Heath and I glance back at the woman as she runs off, her pace much quicker than before. Of course her butt looks fantastic in those shorts.

  God, why can't a bear just eat her already?

  "It's so sad, really," I say, as we walk down the trail. "Even the threat of imminent death couldn't motivate me to do cardio. No wonder I need it so bad."

  My thoughts swing to William and all the times he's pinched my butt, in the way guys do where they pretend it's playful, but they're secretly measuring your body fat percentage.

  At my words, Heath bends back slightly to jokingly check out my butt. He twists his voice into a country accent. "Don't you dare lose that ass, girl. It's fine as all hell."

  "Shut up." I push him away and a giggle escapes my lips.

  I don't giggle. It's undignified and just fucking lame. Yet, here I am. Here we are. Strolling down a path lined with vibrant trees, Heath grinning his adorable grin, dimples accentuated by the stubble running along his jaw. My own face straining under a huge smile. We bump shoulders yet again, and this time our fingers accidentally graze, sending static energy shooting through my hand and up my arm. The smile falls from my lips as I process all of this. William's voice comes barreling through my thoughts like a freight train.

  Open your eyes. He wants to fuck you, Grace.

  And my own voice of protest.

  Are you kidding? It's not like that. He's one of my best friends.

  Heath's grin wanes a fraction when he notices my expression. "What is it? Another twig attack?"

  I've stopped walking.

  For the
first time, I'm self-conscious in front of Heath. I'm not sure what's changed. I'm not sure why I'm suddenly hyper-aware of how close he stands to me. Of how his shirt stretches over his broad shoulders. How his beautiful eyes narrow with concern. It hits me like a flying brick. How devastatingly handsome he is. I know he's always been handsome.

  I've just never noticed as much as I do in this moment.

  No.

  Heath and I are friends. Just friends. This is all just the result of William fucking with my head. William's told me there's a giant blue elephant in the room and now it's all I see.

  Power of suggestion.

  It's making me read too much into things.

  "Grace? You're looking at me like I'm a snake or something."

  "I've got to tell you something," I say, a nervous flutter low in my belly. "William said...he thinks...he has this insane, crazy idea you have feelings for me."

  The words fall from my mouth, clunky and awkward.

  Heath stares at me, brows turning up and small lines forming on his forehead. Something about the sight does strange things to my stomach.

  Several seconds pass and all he does is take in my features as if he's trying to read my mind.

  But I'm trying to read his, too.

  "Aren't you going to say something?" I ask.

  "Depends. Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, what will make you feel better? Or do want me to tell you the truth?"

  My mouth goes dry and I have to swallow. I take in a slow breath before I respond. "The truth."

  Heath takes a step toward me. Just one little step. Yet it shatters a barrier between us, the pieces flying in all directions as he brings a hand up to cup the side of my face.

  "The truth? The truth is this."

  His lips are on mine before I can suck in a full breath. First, my eyes are wide, but his hand moves into my hair and his tongue parts my lips and my whole damn brain freezes. He smells like firewood and tastes like roasted marshmallows. The sweetness overwhelms my senses. It stirs need in me like I've never experienced before in my life. His other hand falls low on my waist and tugs me against him, until our bodies are flush. Having him this close sends chills up and down my spine, and warmth deep in my core. For a wild second, I kiss him back. But then my reality comes crashing down.

  God, what is happening?

  I break away and step back, adding much-needed space between our bodies. And just like that, I miss his lips on mine. I miss a kiss that should've never happened.

  "We should head back."

  "Grace, look at me."

  I can't. My chest rises and falls at quick intervals, and I'm unable to catch a full breath. I thought William's sudden proposal was a mind-fuck. But this? This just bent my mind over backward and shoved a giant dildo right into my amygdala.

  I glance down at his feet, but the sandals he wears are blurred by my inability to focus on anything as I attempt to reel in my thoughts.

  These bad, bad thoughts are rolling downhill and picking up momentum.

  I can't believe him.

  What he did just now put me in an awful position where someone's bound to get hurt.

  I want to slap him.

  I want to kiss him

  I want to take off running into the woods, build shelter from branches, and never owe anyone an answer, an explanation.

  But before I can do any of this, I have to look up.

  Just as I go to raise my sights, my vision focuses on something moving beside Heath's foot.

  I spring back.

  "Snake!"

  "Oh for God's sake—" Heath's dismissive tone is cut short when he looks down and notices the very non-twig looking thing slithering over his right foot.

  "Don't move," I say, snatching up a small branch from the ground. The split end is perfect to trap the snake under without hurting it.

  Heath attempts to kick the snake away and ends up striking its head by accident. This only seems to really piss Mr. Snake off, because it lunges right back and closes its mouth over Heath's big toe.

  Heath lets out an ear-splitting curse, shaking his foot until the snake falls off and starts to slither away.

  "Motherfucker bit me," Heath groans, standing on one foot, his bitten toe bleeding. My eyes go wide, but he holds up a hand. "It's okay, I'm fine."

  Then his eyes widen when he sees what I've done. I've trapped the head of the snake under the fork of the stick I'm holding. My heart thumps in my ears as I shove my free hand into my pocket to pull out my phone.

  "Grace, what the hell are you doing? Let that thing go. Get it away from you."

  "I'm trying to figure out if it's poisonous."

  Heath bends over to examine his toe. He doesn't seem too alarmed, but I get the mental image of him in a coffin, dressed in a black suit, dark blond hair combed back, his sleeping face angelic as I Will Remember You by Sarah Mclachlan blasts overhead. I'm so sure he's going to die, and I'm going to have to drag his limp body back to camp and explain to his brother what happened.

  And the world will never learn the wonders of the Insta-napper.

  I try to type a description of the snake into the search engine as fast as my thumb allows.

  "Okay, what's it say?" he asks, impatience creeping into his tone as he nods to the phone in my hand.

  "Hang on," I say. "It's taking a while to load."

  "Aren't you supposed to suck the poison out? You should suck the poison out first, just to be safe."

  "This isn't funny, Heath."

  "I'm not kidding."

  I shoot him a glare then hold my phone up higher, hoping it will help the page load faster.

  And it sort of works.

  "I'm not sucking your toe," I say, eyes on my phone screen. "Not until we're sure it's poisonous. Just hang on."

  "And if it is, you're going to let me die?"

  "Oh, oh!" Excited to see the page finally load, I pull the screen to my face and read quickly. "Okay, okay. It says here, poisonous snakes have slits for pupils." I look down at the snake, which seems more agitated than ever as it struggles against its bind. Still, I notice definite, round pupils and I let out a sigh. "Okay, you're good…"

  Loosening my grip, I use the end of the stick to shoo the snake off, away from us. The creature wastes no time slithering between the trees and disappearing into the grass.

  "You sure? I feel this weird throbbing in my toe. Feels like poison. The deadly type of poison that kills people."

  "Quit being a pansy," I say, still skimming the article. "You're fine…" I trail off, reaching a disclaimer at the bottom of the page. "Shit."

  "What? What?"

  "Says here poisonous snakes usually have slits for pupils, but there's one snake with round pupils that's also poisonous. Hang on, I'm pulling up a picture of it."

  My eyes go wide as I see it. With the real snake gone, it's impossible to do a side-by-side comparison, but the image of the Coral snake looks suspiciously like the snake that just slithered off.

  I show Heath the screen of my phone.

  "Fuck, that's it." Heath is dead serious now. "You need to suck my toe or I'm going to die."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Grace

  "HATE TO BREAK THIS to everyone," Jackson says, "but it really does look like Heath is going to live."

  We all pretend to be disappointed, but Samantha's groan is loud and suspiciously convincing.

  Of course, we already knew Heath was fine. The park ranger came and went, confirming the snake we described wasn't poisonous. But at Jackson's words, Heath pulls his foot away from his brother and puts it onto the ground a bit forcefully, like he's annoyed with the final assessment. Maybe because the rest of us stand around where he sits on one of the folding chairs, fawning over him as if he's just limped in from an epic battle.

  He's been milking the snake incident for his own amusement.

  "It came out of nowhere," he says, taking the bottle of water Delilah hands him. "But do you know the worst part? Grace refused
to suck the poison out of my toe."

  Everyone looks to me at once, gazes varying from confusion to silent accusation. The sun moves lower in the sky, causing the campfire to grow brighter. Heath's blue eyes fix on me from where he sits, brightened by the flames in front of us.

  I throw up my hands. "There was no poison! And, anyway, who here would just suck Heath's toe before taking the time to explore other viable options?"

  "I would," Delilah says.

  "Yeah, well, besides you."

  Jackson sets a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sorry to tell you, man, these are the times you figure out who your true friends are."

  Samantha chimes in. "Maybe this is a good time to point out…"

  "Don't ruin this for me," Jackson mutters to her.

  But she ignores him. "…you can't suck poison out. It doesn't work like that."

  "This isn't about poison, it's about trust." Jackson points a playfully chastising finger at his girlfriend then promptly drops it when she glares at him.

  "Exactly," Heath says. "For all Grace knew, I was at death's doorstep." He pauses to turn his attention back to me. His brows tilt upward like they did on the trail, drawing those adorable lines on his forehead again. My stomach does a weird flip and I shake away the memory of our kiss. His tone drips with disingenuous hurt as he goes on, "I would've sucked your toe, Grace. I wouldn't have asked any questions. I wouldn't have Googled. I would've dropped to my knees right there and had your toe in my mouth from the moment you kicked the snake away."

  He's such an ass.

  Delilah nods along, her freckled face grave with concern, like she can't believe what a horrible friend I am.

  "What if it were one of your first graders who got bit on the toe by a snake?" she asks. "Would you let one of those poor kids die just because of your aversion to toes?"

  Probably.

  "Oh my God," I say. "I'm done talking about this." I turn from them and take the seat on the other side of the fire. I do this without thinking, but only after I settle into the seat do I notice confusion flashing across Heath's face. He expected me to sit beside him. I always sit beside him, but this time I didn't.

  Something's changed between us, our friendship altered by the line he crossed. We aren't able to even acknowledge it with everyone around, it just hangs over our heads.