Maybe I would be able to tell her how I really felt. Maybe, just maybe, I could say those three little words back.
Because I felt it, too. And I knew exactly what she was talking about when she muttered them to me in her drugged state. I knew exactly what she meant because the same fire burned inside me. The embers that had ignited her own spark burned brightly inside my soul and for once, I wasn’t afraid of my feelings. No, I was afraid of her.
My Bebe.
Because she was beautiful.
Because she was broken.
Because she was just like me, and yet, unlike anyone I’d ever met before.
The pull I felt towards the girl was magnetic, the fire a passionate one, consuming me like nothing I’d ever felt before, not even my own panic and fear. I’d never wanted anyone this much, never craved another person the way I craved her. And that’s why I was afraid.
I would lose her.
Undoubtedly.
She would leave when she found out what I did—what I had to keep doing to keep my business going. Yes, she would leave when she found out the truth about me.
How obsessive I was. The shameful bleach baths. The hidden cigarettes. The dark, smelly room in the back of the apartment. She wouldn’t stick around for that kind of crazy, not beautiful, talented, stunning Bebe. Not her. When I lost her, I would finally break. It would be the end of me.
I sat there as the seconds ticked by and the fear grew bigger and bigger. I watched my panic grow until it was a big, shiny bubble, like the ones I used to blow when I was a kid. A big rainbow bubble of soapy water and childhood dreams. And then it popped.
It was all over, just like that. The bubble was gone, the fear exploding into the vast nothingness of the park.
I got to my feet. The counting I’d been doing trickled into nothing until all the numbers blended together and I was alone with nothing but one wish, one deepest, darkest desire in my heart—to have Bebe, no matter how selfish, how fucked-up, how evil of me that was.
My legs were quick to carry me back to the apartment and I watched the sunrise over the city as I made my way back. I was freezing cold, my skin like cool marble as I made my way to the building. I glanced up, but there were no lights on in my apartment. Bebe must have been fast asleep, and the thought of her hair fanned out over my pillow made my cock grow thick and hard. Desperate to sink myself inside her, I raced past the doorman who wasn’t even trying to conceal his shock anymore, and up the stairs. Two at a time.
Stumbling into my own apartment, I held onto the door handle for dear life, the speed I’d ran towards my home had taken it out of me. I was out of breath, not even my vigorous workouts at home preparing me for the brutal outside. But there was nothing that would dissuade me from the only thing I wanted. From holding her in my strong arms, making her promise she would never do anything like this again. Making her swear she’d be a good girl for me.
I walked into the bedroom, and my heart sank when I found it empty. The sheets were rumpled, and I noticed one thing right away.
Bebe had taken the white frame off the wall. She’d taken out the white paper and written a note on it in lipstick.
Thank you.
xoxo Bebe
I stared at the words, picturing her scribbling them down and then disappearing back into her own apartment. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to hold it against her. I understood, in the end, what this had meant to Bebe. Why she had run away.
Grinning to myself, I put the now ruined white canvas back into the frame, and put it back up on the wall. Her bright pink lipstick was now the focal point of my whole room, and I grinned as I stared at it adorning my wall.
It would have been so easy to despair in that moment, knowing Bebe had left me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, couldn’t make myself get upset about it. Because now, I had defeated the biggest fear of all.
I laughed to myself and shook my head as I climbed back into my bed, the sheets still warm from her body being wrapped up in them. I inhaled her scent, filling my nostrils with everything that made her so very unique, so fucking special to me. My beautiful girl, my stunning Bebe.
Things would be different from now on, because she made me defeat the monster that separated me from her. From now on, I would not be the man she wanted.
I would be the man she deserved.
Negative space, phrase
Helps to define the boundaries of positive space and brings balance to a composition.
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling above me. There was a small crack above my head, and for a second, my heart pounded with worry at the thought of the ceiling coming crashing down on me, just like my life had crashed the previous night.
Shaking my head to get the thought out, I pulled myself up and set on the edge of the bed. My phone was ringing incessantly, Arden’s number flashing on the screen like crazy. I knew I needed to pick up, but answering her call meant owning up to my actions, and I was too scared to do that just yet.
Dragging myself off the bed made my head explode in white noise and pain. I managed to get myself to the kitchen, drawing myself a large glass of ice-cold tap water. I drank it hungrily, gulping down the calming liquid before I picked up my phone. It was time to face the music.
But before I got the chance to, there was a sharp, angry knock on my front door. I knew it was her.
That was the thing about Arden. She cared. She cared even when I was being a bitch to her. She cared when I didn’t. She cared when nobody else did.
“Bebe, I know you’re in there,” she called out angrily. “If you don’t open this door right the hell now, I’m going to knock it down.”
I groaned inwardly and moved towards the door. She was pissed, and she had every right to be. Still, I was terrified of her anger and of finally accepting all the mistakes I’d made the previous night. It meant remembering… and to remember was the worst part of the whole thing.
I opened the door and Arden stormed into the room, her eyes shooting daggers at me.
“How could you do that?” she snarled at me.
Her voice was pure anger, and her body was overflowing with signs of betrayal. I felt guilty then, really fucking guilty, for having let her down the previous night. Arden only wanted the best for me, and I’d known that all along. But I could never accept it, her kindness and the sweetness she exhibited with me, even though I didn’t deserve any of it.
Forget. Forget. Forget. And then move the fuck on.
It was an eternal motto, but it felt that as long as I kept Arden around, I’d never be able to move away fully from Posy’s death. It had always been the three of us, and existing with just Arden by my side felt wrong, like we were missing our queen bee. Arden turned to me now, as if I was supposed to lead the broken mess of our friendship to the finish line. But I couldn’t handle it.
Hell, I couldn’t even handle looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes spoke of what I had been through, and I couldn’t take it.
“Arden,” I started, my voice raspy and apologetic. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve fucked up.”
“Sorry?” she barked at me. “You’re fucking sorry? Well, guess what Bebe, sorry just won’t do anymore. Sorry won’t fucking cut it.”
I felt the pain then, so sharp and intense it made me gasp and recoil in surprise. It felt like I was being severed, like a leg being cut off and the phantom limb was still kicking, even when it was long gone.
“Arden,” I pleaded with her. “Please. Just give me one more chance, and I’ll make it up to you, I swear to God.”
“I don’t care who you swear to,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m done believing your lies. You want to destroy yourself that badly, Bebe?”
She thrust something into my hands and my fingers trembled as they wrapped around it.
“Here. Knock yourself out.”
She didn’t even touch me as she handed it over, and I watched her storm out of my apartment, slamming the front door behind her
so hard it wouldn’t even close, probably throwing it off the damn hinges. I felt hot tears prickling my eyes, but I refused to acknowledge them. Instead, I stepped into the hallway and glared at a curious neighbor staring at me through a crack in her front door.
“Mind your own business!” I barked at her, the tears threatening to fall.
“We only get one family,” she said in response, then closed the door.
No one had mistaken Arden and me as sisters before.
But as I closed the door, I tried to tell myself meaningless little lies that would make the whole situation better, diffuse some of the tension left in the air from her abrupt departure.
It didn’t matter anyway, did it? If she wanted to blow me off, so be it. I had a ton of other friends who weren’t as judgmental or as demanding as she was.
But if that was the case, why was I crying already? Finally, I was unable to hold it all in and I let the tears slide down my cheeks. There one second, and gone the next, just like Posy had been. And now I was finally, mercifully all alone.
I knew Arden would never forgive me for what I’d done. In her mind, I was heading down the same destructive path as Posy, trying to ruin myself the exact same way our queen bee had. And I was doing a damn fine job of it, too.
The previous night had been a mistake.
The night I’d spent in Miles’ apartment was blurry and hard to remember, but I could still feel his stubble beneath my fingertips, almost as if I’d just brushed my skin against his. Miles mattered even more now, but I wouldn’t admit that to myself—no, not just yet. It was too soon to admit there was only one person left who cared about me.
Instead, my eyes focused on the locket in my hand, my fingers clutching at it desperately.
Posy’s infamous silver locket. She never opened it. Never showed the picture inside to anyone. But she wore the necklace with the heart-shaped locket every single day I’d known her.
Posy’s parents wanted Arden to have it because they’d been friends the longest. I suspected they never liked me, anyway, but seeing my friend get Posy’s most prized possession still fucking hurt. And now here it was, the snake-like silver chain cold to the touch and slippery between my fingers.
I opened the locket. I had to see.
I’d seen Posy toy with it a thousand times, staring inside the silver heart. And now, I was finally about to find out what she’d smiled at so often. There was a picture inside, just like I’d suspected.
I recognized the picture of us right away. It had been taken the summer we met, when we were all thin from too much booze and not enough food and wearing ridiculously short dresses with no underwear. I remembered the way we had posed for the camera. Arden smiling wide, her mouth half-open and revealing a pink piece of gum between her rows of perfect teeth. She used to chew gum all the time, said it helped her with the hunger pangs.
And then there was me, in a white dress that emphasized my tan, and eyes were so innocent I could barely recognize them. I had to remind myself this was when I was just starting to fit in with Arden and Posy’s crowd. Maybe it was even the exact night when I finally realized I’d made it, and I was part of their stupid clique.
My eyes were turned to Posy, staring adoringly at her like she was my damn idol or something.
And Posy, Posy had one of her tits out, with her fingers covering the nipple, and a big grin for the camera. Her hair was wild and her eyes were hazy.
Posy had cut Arden out of the original picture. Now, it was just the two of us. Me, looking at her like a love-drunk teenager, and her, madness and passion wrapped into one hot little firecracker that changed our lives forever.
My fingers clasped around the locket, closing the picture shut. I couldn’t bear to look at it. I couldn’t bear to think of what it meant.
Poor Arden. Posy’s parents had insisted she keep the locket, but neither of us knew what Posy had done to the photo inside. My heart swelled at the thought of Arden discovering it on her own, and I hated myself for putting her through that. I should have been there for her. I should have been a friend. I wasn’t the only one who felt alone after Posy dying. We were two peas in a pod, except Arden had tried desperately to help me, and I’d done nothing but push her away.
I collapsed in the hallway, my back against the front door and the locket feeling like a cold, hard piece of betrayal in the palm of my hand.
I’d been a bad friend. And now it was too late.
The urge to throw that damn necklace through the window was so strong I had to force it to drop from my fingers, landing in a pool of silver on the hardwood floor. I couldn’t even look at it anymore. All it symbolized was the end of an era, a time when I was foolish and young, stupid and happy. A time when I was in love.
That’s what it was all about in the end.
The jealousy.
The anger.
The need to join Posy wherever she was now that she wasn’t terrorizing the city’s best nightclubs and sneaking onto the red carpet, flashing her tits to the paps and pretending she was someone. It was never enough that she was someone to me and Arden. Posy had always wanted so much more, and in the end, we weren’t able to give it to her. I’d never stop blaming myself for not trying enough.
Yes, all of it was because of one little reason, the nagging thought in the back of my head, the tiny voice screaming at me that this was the answer all along, I’d just been too fucking blind to see it.
I’d been head over heels in love with Posy, and now, I finally had a hint—in the shape of a locket—that she had felt the same way.
Maybe Posy felt something for me too.
Maybe all those times we kissed and I felt sparks flying between us, the same fire was burning in the pit of her stomach.
Maybe, when we looked at each other and understood the other person to the last sliver of shame, regret and unfulfilled desires, she saw me for who I was.
And maybe, just maybe, she loved me for my brokenness just like I loved hers.
Since the moment the locket ended up in my hands, I wasn’t mourning a friend anymore.
I was mourning a lover.
Selcouth, adjective
Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous.
Whatever I tried to do that day failed.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop going back into my bedroom to touch the sheets that still held the shape of her body. I stroked the spot where her ass had flattened the mattress until it disappeared and then berated myself for letting go of it so quickly. I wanted more. I wanted Bebe Hall back in my bed, and I wanted to watch her sleep sweetly and soundly.
Her scent was still heady and fragrant in my bedroom, almost too overwhelming to stay in it. But I couldn’t walk away. I filled my nostrils with her perfume and my head with images of her, of us, together. I was well and truly hooked, addicted to her scent and the way she made me feel. There was no going back now. I wouldn’t stop until I had her. I was more determined than ever.
The thing that puzzled me was the raw need for her, the desperate, primal urge to make her mine. I’d never felt like that before when it wasn’t all about sex, like a fucking caveman, wanting to make every inch of her mine and hearing her admit that she belonged to me completely. I realized as the day dawned in my Bebe-scented bedroom, that I wouldn’t be able to stop the itch anymore. Bebe Hall had fucking arrived, and she was the obsession I didn’t ever want to get rid of.
What would Dr. Halen make of this? I wondered briefly, but instead of dealing with the issue at hand, I wrapped it up in a big bow and put it in the darkest corner of my mind, where I didn’t have to deal with it just yet. Not until everything imploded. And judging by Bebe’s short fuse, that wasn’t going to be long in coming, anyway.
The hours passed and before I knew it, it was evening, past seven p.m.
I’d eaten something but mostly just hung around the apartment listlessly, unsure of what I should be doing, until eventually I collapsed into bed. When my phone rang, I was gratef
ul for the distraction. That is until I saw Bebe’s name flashing across the screen.
Things would be different now. Now, Bebe would know how I really felt. And the weight of those three little words she’d whispered to me was heavy, almost too heavy to bear.
I answered with a slight tremble in my voice, as desperately as I tried to hide it.
“Hello.”
“Hi… Miles.”
Her voice was small and scared, like a little girl’s.
“Are you okay?” I asked roughly, ready to knock out the teeth of whoever had upset her.
“Yeah,” she whispered back. “Can we talk for a while?”
“Just talk?” My words were soft.
“Yeah,” she said again. “I just want to hear your voice.”
My heart ached with hurt. I wanted this, God, I really fucking did. But it was dangerous territory. It meant Bebe was in charge of me, at least judging by the way my heart was pounding for her, desperate to tell her how I really felt. To have her back in my arms where she belonged… But it was too soon for that. I would have to keep my distance a little while longer.
“Where are you?” I wanted to know.
“Lying in bed.”
I could hear the mattress moving under her.
“Where are you, Miles?”
“In my bed,” I admitted, my hands ruffling the sheets.
“The bed I slept in?”
“Yes.”
A long pause.
“Does it still smell like me?”
Another pause to make my heart nearly explode out of my chest before I opened my mouth and confessed the truth. “Yeah.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do.”
“Do you wish I was there?”
A loaded question, bursting with promise and desperation.
What was the right answer? Of course I wanted her to be there with me. But the mere thought of Bebe so close terrified me. I’d never let anyone in, not anyone that mattered like she did. It had been years since I’d had someone in my corner. Years since I’d been anything but alone.
“I do,” I finally said, and I heard her exhale slowly, then giggle.
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