by Bria Quinlan
“I wanted to talk about Saturday.”
“Okay.”
I waited, very aware of the hush that had washed over the hallway as people pretended to hold conversations while they watched what was probably one of the best scandals our little class had ever had.
“Um, I like your hair.”
“Thanks.”
I waited again. It wasn't that I wanted to make this more difficult. It was difficult enough for me that I didn't need to draw it out more.
Leah had been my lifetime friend. The one I thought meant everything. We'd known each other almost since birth. She'd been with me through tough times. I'd stood by her during rebellions. We were going to grow up together and be each others' Maids of Honor. Husbands, children, our thirties. We were going to be there for all of it.
But she'd betrayed me in a way I couldn't have even seen coming.
It was amazing that it hurt more than the fact that Tanner had been messing around behind my back.
“I, um...” Leah stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I'm really sorry.”
This might have been naive, but I'd expected a little more than, I'm really sorry. That seemed a bit light for what she'd done. I thought there must be more coming.
But she stood there looking at me expectantly.
“That's it? You're sorry?”
“I'm really sorry.”
I hadn't known what I was going to say to her. I didn't know if I'd be able to even speak, I was so hurt and angry. But as I stood there, I realized that I had a lot to say.
A. Lot.
“Leah, you betrayed me in the most direct possible way. You were my best friend, and you were—Were you sleeping with him?”
I don't know what I expected her to say in front of all those people. It seemed clear when she didn't say anything. I mean, no is very easy. Yes, not so much.
“Before I started dating him, or after?”
“Bridget...”
“Before or after?”
When she just looked at me, I got angrier.
“It's a simple question, Leah. Did you start sleeping with my boyfriend before I started dating him or after?”
She just looked at me, surprise written all over her face even as she had the decency to blush. “After.”
“And you think,” I continued, “that I'm sorry—oops, I mean really sorry—is enough to cover that? That you were having sex with him?”
“Bridget, I don't want to lose you. You're my best friend.”
“Was your best friend. Not that you understand what that means.”
“I do. I totally do. I screwed up.”
Someone behind her snorted.
“We've been through too much for this to come between us.” She looked desperate and angry at the same time.
I really wondered what she had to be angry about. Which made me angrier.
Her hand fisted at her side, the anger taking over the apology. “I've stood by you through so much.”
“We've been through a lot. A lot of it was you supporting me through Christy's death. But some of it was me being there for you. You've been walking a gray line a lot this past year. I just didn't think I'd be the person you decided to walk over to cross that line.”
She sucked in a breath as if she was going to interrupt me. I put my hand up, cutting her off.
“Best friends, they stick together. They're there for each other through everything. They hold each other up and carry each other when things are too tough. They stand by the other person when she's wrong and forgive her when she screws up. They're like halves.”
Leah was nodding through this all.
“Here's the thing. You want me to forgive you. But I'm standing here and I realize there's no way you could have been my best friend. Because if you were, you never would have intentionally hurt me like this. There is one thing best friends never do to one another. That’s betray them. And so no. Saying you’re sorry doesn't cut it.”
She sucked in another breath and let out a sob. In that instant, I pitied her.
I wondered who she'd have after this. I wondered if she'd have Tanner all to herself now and I'd have to watch them together every day at school.
“Now, if you'll excuse me, I have no desire to be standing here with you anymore.”
I closed my locker with a gentle click and walked away. The hall was dead silent except for Leah's muffled sobs. Part of me wanted to go back and to comfort her. To be the friend I'd always been.
But she was the one who’d destroyed that.
It was ironic that one of the people who had made up the safe world I'd created was the Brutus to my Caesar.
I felt horrible, but I wouldn't take it back. I'd never understood stories where the best friend is forgiven anything. There were betrayals that I'm sorry didn't fix. Trusts that, once broken, couldn’t be repaired.
I'd had about enough of the gazes following me by the end of the hallway, so instead of heading toward homeroom, I turned into the girls' room. It was empty of course since everyone had been watching the drama play out in the hallway.
The quiet followed me in as I braced myself against one of the short porcelain sinks, watching my own reflection as the red receded from my cheeks.
I barely recognized myself. It was more than just the haircut. It was the directness. The ability to confront something instead of just putting a fence around it to keep it safely pinned off.
Jake. He'd taken down all the walls I didn't need, and instead of leaving me unprotected, he'd made me strong enough to guard myself.
The door behind me opened and I wondered if I had enough strength to deal with more Leah.
“Bridget, do you have a second?”
Instead, Amanda Barrows stood in the doorway, looking like she wasn't sure if she should come in.
I really wanted to say no. I wasn't sure I had anything energy left for more drama. But Amanda had always been nice. A school friend. Someone to do projects with when I needed a buddy. We'd never been close, but I'd also never gotten the paranoid Bridget-could-snap-at-any-second vibe from her.
“Sure.”
When she saw I wasn't in general attack mode, she pushed the door closed behind her.
It was uncomfortable. Not because of anything specific but because Amanda wasn't looking at me. I wasn't sure what to say, but I felt like I was supposed to do something to make her feel comfortable. I wasn't even sure what we were doing there.
“I wanted to say I was sorry.”
Oh.
My stomach did another little flip then flopped. This was way too much drama for me in one day. I tried to laugh it off. What would someone confident, golden, and wearing cowboy boots say?
“Why? Were you sleeping with Tanner, too?” I laughed, forcing the sound out.
“God, no!” She looked horrified at the thought. Then she looked horrified at her answer.
And then it was okay. I really was laughing at that. I mean, did everyone realize I had horrible taste in guys except for me?
“I'm sorry because I didn't say anything. I thought about it a few times, but... Leah is your best friend.”
“Was. Was my best friend.”
“Right.”
“I get it.”
“If it had been any other girl besides Leah, I think I could have told you. But you guys were so tight. Plus, what if the rumors were wrong? I just…I couldn't be that girl.”
I got it. I really did. I felt bad Amanda looked miserable standing there, feeling guilty for staying out of something.
“It's okay.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I wouldn't have said anything, either. I don't know many people who could have let someone know that if they weren't super close.”
She looked so relieved I almost felt bad for her. It had obviously been bothering her more than just today. Which, oddly, made me feel better.
“I thought you might need somewhere to sit today at lunch.” She smiled, a genuine smile. No pity. No humor. A real of
fer.
“That would be great.”
# # #
The door fell shut with a soft snick, and I wondered how I was going to get myself from there to homeroom. It wasn’t every day a girl doubled the number of confrontations she’d had in her life.
Then I remembered the little envelope stuck in my front pocket.
I pulled it out and slid the small square of paper into my palm. It was your typical notebook page, ripped neatly in half. Opening it, I found dark magic marker guy scrawl I wasn’t surprised by.
There’s a wide world between being Reckless and Wreckless.
It was true. I’d spent so much time fenced in, I’d never wrecked. But there was a lot of gray area between that life and being out of control. As I pushed the girls’ room door, I couldn’t help but picture a fence gate sliding back open into an unfenced pasture.
Chapter Sixteen
I made it through the whole day avoiding Tanner. Leah made it through the rest of the day avoiding me.
Win-win. Lunch was good. Making new friends was surprisingly fun for once. I still wasn't sure how I felt about the big picture. The fence-building-rule-making part of me wanted to block them all out, but I knew that wasn't the answer.
Especially when I got back to my locker to find my phone was buzzing.
Rayla: Jake's not here today. Did u kidnap him? Wouldn't blame u!
I should have known Rayla would be a day texter when I'd given her my cell number.
It was one more reason to remember my phone.
Reason one: so as to never again walk-in on any ridiculously embarrassing and avoidable situations.
Reason two: so new friends can send you inane messages.
ME: No. He wouldn't skip a game day, would he?
Before I could stuff my phone back in the locker, it buzzed again.
Rayla: Bye-day
So, no game day for them this Monday. I started at the message, wondering where Jake was, if he had skipped just to drive me in and pick me up. I couldn't help the happy little warmth that rushed through me at that.
I jumped when I heard a beep beep come from inside my locker. Except I still had my phone in my hand.
Beep beep.
I put my ear up to my locker, wondering if maybe the beeping was in the one next to mine.
Beep beep.
Nope. It was coming from my locker. I shoved my hand in Jake's jacket, checking pockets until I found his phone. He’d probably been calling it trying to see where he’d left it. I’d just shoot him back a message from wherever he was calling and let him know I had his phone and his jacket. And I could give them to him after school.
A thrill shot threw me. I’d be seeing him again, soon. And whenever I wanted.
3 New Text Messages
Oh man. I wish I’d heard it sooner. He was probably wondering where the heck he left it.
QB27: Skipping out? Still w ur girl-toy?
QB27: Mish pissed—text her. She knows it for pickup
QB27: Hotter pics next time dude
Huh?
I got a sick feeling in my gut. I didn’t want it to be true, but I was pretty sure I was the girl-toy and the pickup, but I didn't know what the pictures were.
I stared at the phone, everything in me saying that looking through Jake's phone was the very worst type of betrayal. That I knew what betrayal was and I wasn't going to do that.
I closed my hand over the phone. Nope. I wasn't going to do that. I'd tell him I saw the messages and ask what they were.
Also, I was more than a little curious why he should need to text Mish.
As I was about to put it back, another message came through.
QB27: Is her hair the only thing she’s dyed?
Oh my gosh.
Oh my gosh.
That couldn't mean what I thought it meant. I glanced at all four messages together and tried not to be sick. Jake would never tell them we were…that I would do that after just meeting him. No. He wouldn't.
Only looking at those messages, I couldn't come up with another reason for what I was seeing.
What felt like a huge betrayal—something I never would have done a moment ago—seemed really rational all of a sudden.
I clicked back through his text history.
QB27: PLAYER CLUB RULES IN: New Girl Pickup. 1 Night. Proof of close
QB27: No one you know
QB27: Can’t pay for it
QB27: Midnight expiration
Jake hadn't texted until later that night when he was with me.
JM: Whatever
QB27: DUDE, LOW HANGING FRUIT
JM: She's qualified
QB27: TIMES RUNNING OUT. RU IN???
JM: Done.
Attached to the “Done” text was a picture of our clothes piled on the blanket. I recognized my red dress right away and remembered Jake turning on the headlights to “look for his sock.”
The liar.
The big, horrible liar.
And now, here I was, missing him and ready to tear his head off at the same time.
My heart pounded, a loud echoing sound in my ears and drowning out the scattered hallway noises behind me as I thought about our night. How all night had been magic to me. How, being out there with him had given me the chance to take slow steps back into myself. And not so slow steps to half in love with him.
And all the while—the time, the picture, the party—they were all just to get him into some disgusting guys’ group.
I was an idiot.
I was such an idiot.
He'd pushed and manipulated me all night. Why should I be so surprised that he'd had an endgame that had nothing to do with making me feel better or keeping me safe?
I tossed his phone in my locker and slammed it shut.
At the end of the hall Tanner was coming toward me, obviously not sure what to do.
“Not a word.” I kept going, not ready to deal with another liar.
I almost made it to the girls' room before the tears started falling. I slammed into a stall, locked it, and burst into tears.
I hated him. Hated him.
I had never felt so deceived. Making me feel this way, coming back after me when he could have let it go... It was so cruel I couldn't believe it.
The Jake I knew at the end of the night had been softer, easier, protective. Nothing like the guy I'd gotten in a truck with at the carnival. Now I knew which one was the real him.
I gave myself until the first bell and then pulled it together. The last thing I wanted was to have Tanner or Leah think I was crying over them.
I headed to my last class wishing I were home. Wishing I'd never left. Wishing I'd kept all those rules and fences in place.
Chapter Seventeen
I stalled heading out to the parking lot. One scene a day was more than enough for me. Actually, one scene a lifetime would have been one scene too many.
The few people who were still hanging around didn’t point or whisper as I made my way to the curb, Jake’s jacket slung over my arm. My stupid heart did a flip when I saw him at the end of the sidewalk leaning against his truck waiting for me.
Every step, I heard, mistake... mistake... mistake... whispering in my head. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it was telling me it was all a mistake, or he was a mistake.
“Hey, darling.” He reached for me as soon as I got near him.
I dodge his arm and handed him the jacket.
“Oh. Thanks.” His brows came down over those formerly easy-to-read eyes. Confused. For once, he was the confused one.
It was probably because I looked like I could kill him for giving me his jacket.
“Actually, I have your phone, too.” I held it up.
“Oh. Great. I thought I left it at home.”
“Right. You got some messages today.”
I knew as soon as I said it there was no mistake. His face went to ash and his eyes dropped shut.
“You see, there was this beeping from my locker, and I thought it was m
y phone. But then, look! There was your phone. So I thought maybe you'd called or texted from someone else’s phone to see where it was, if someone had picked it up. So I open it and there's these messages.” His eyes were still closed, but I was willing him to open them and look at me. To face me. “You might want to call Mish. She's a little peeved you're out toying around still.”
“Bridget.” He opened his eyes then. He even tried reaching for me. “Let me explain.”
“Explain that you set me up? That you were using me? You told your football team you picked me up and that I had sex with you?”
I was really glad I'd waited until everyone had left, because my voice at that point could have competed with a dog whistle.
“It's not what you think.”
I should have just walked away right then, but I wanted that to be the truth so very badly that I let him keep talking.
“When I got back, I had no one. Not one friend. The team closed ranks to keep me out. They just... I got no field time. I was an outcast. It didn't matter that everyone knew I hadn't done it. They were just... And then Dave, he says, ‘You want in? Fine.’”
I stepped back, feeling sicker than after all those glasses of punch.
“The guys on the team, they have this players club. I thought he meant football players. So I'm like, yeah, whatever it takes. I'm in.”
I shook my head. I couldn't even deal with him. Couldn't even look at him.
“When you got in my truck, I wasn't thinking about anything like that. You looked sick. Like you needed out of there. I couldn't just leave you. I wasn't going to use you. I was going to tell them to screw off. Then Dave made that comment in the parking lot and I realized he thought I'd picked you up.”
Oh my gosh.
“I was still going to tell them to go screw. But then...”
“What? What, Jake? What happened that made you think telling a bunch of football players I'd gotten naked for you—for sex—was a good idea?”
“I don't know. It was just—”
“What?” I screamed it. I'd lost all sense of calm. “What was it?”
“Easy,” he shouted. “Alright? It was easy.”
I think my heart fell out of my body. I glanced at the ground, half-expecting there to be blood pooling around my feet.
