by Tasha Fawkes
But what did that mean? Did it mean anything?
The lock on the front door grated and a second later Kimberley called out to me in a high, flowery voice. "Hello, my darling!"
"I'm in the living room!" I called, clapping my computer closed and shoving it into the cushions. Kim wouldn't approve of my latest bout of self-sabotage.
She came down the hall and dropped her bag on the kitchen table, already rattling off about her day. "I don't think I've ever met a ruder human being than I met today, and that's saying a lot. Do you ever just meet someone you want to rat them out to their parents on?" She looked at me for the first time and stopped what she was doing, concern creasing her brow. "What's the matter? You're white as a sheet."
I gulped. "I don't know."
"You don't know what's the matter?"
"I don't know why I'm white as a sheet. I feel fine."
Her eyes tracked down to the empty wine glass still clutched in my hand and her lips pursed. Kim walked over to the couch and sat down, features softening.
"Babe, talk to me. I'm worried about you." She shifted around and frowned. "What the hell am I sitting on?"
I shot out a hand to stop her, but Kim pulled my laptop from the cushions. I should have played it cooler. If I had, she wouldn't know that whatever was affecting me had something to do with the stowed electronic.
"What am I going to see on here?" she asked. "Is it something weird?"
I was caught between telling her it was something very weird and our friendship would never be the same if she looked at it and telling the truth. I'd never been a great liar. I gestured for her to open it, and when she did her mouth flattened into a line.
"You're watching two of Chad's videos at once?" she asked. "That seems a bit overkill."
I scratched my head. "I was comparing them."
"For what?"
This was a good opportunity to see if my theory held up. Maybe it was a good thing I'd been discovered.
"Play the older one first. Then play the new one."
She eyed me skeptically but did as I said. I couldn't see the screen from where I sat but recognized my voice right away. Then came Chad's, laughing as he spoke. I closed my eyes and pretended I was back in that moment.
Kim played the second video. Less than a minute in and she was scowling. "Who's this bitch?"
I didn't need to see the screen to know she was asking about Lori.
"His ex-girlfriend," I replied. "Or, I suppose, his current girlfriend."
"That's what you've been comparing?" She paused the video and gave me a quizzical look.
"No, not really. What else do you see apart from the fact that the girl changes?"
Kim played the video again and studied it with a keen eye. I loved her for taking this so seriously. At this point, she was the only thing keeping me from going insane.
A moment later, Kim paused the video and looked back at me. She seemed to be weighing her words.
"What don't you want to say?" I asked.
Kim sighed and closed the laptop, passing it over to me. "I think the obvious thing here is that Chad looks fucking miserable in the second video. Is that what you wanted me to see?"
I nodded.
"Thought so." She screwed up her mouth in thought. "Babe, I know that you miss him, but I don't think fixating on his videos is going to help."
"I know, I know." I sighed. "It changes absolutely nothing.”
I mean, sad eyes or not, I've been gone for five minutes, and he's already replaced me. That's gotta mean something."
Kim nodded grimly. "How do you feel?"
I took a deep breath and thought about her question, but couldn't answer with the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway. I was too raw to admit my utter devastation, too shell-shocked to admit my disbelief. Instead, I just said, "I feel like it's time for me to move on."
Twenty
Chad
I'd been lying on my back, tossing my phone above my face for the past ten minutes. I kept expecting to miss and have it barrel down and break my nose or something. That was part of what made this little game so fun.
Granted, this little game wouldn't have to be fun for me to keep doing it. All it had to be was distracting. Playing with my phone meant I couldn't use it, even though I knew it wouldn't be long before I had to.
Why did I ever think any of this was a good idea? Just over a week ago I'd been the happiest I'd ever been. I didn't know at the time it was the happiest I'd ever been, but hindsight was a bitch. Being with Brin had been like breathing pure oxygen, whereas Lori's presence was a thick smog that reached down my throat to choke me with its acrid fumes. I wanted to hate Brin for showing me how perfect life could be and then snatching that out of my grip, but I couldn't hate her for anything. She would always be perfect to me, even if thinking about her made my bones ache.
She'd given me a snapshot of a perfect life, a vignette of domestic bliss filled with acceptance and happiness. Lori came in belching noxious smoke and distorted the image.
I would say that I tried to make things work with Lori, but that would be a lie. My heart hadn't been in it from the beginning, and it never would be. I knew that now. I'd spent the first few days of us being back together lying to myself, and the next few days lying to her. It was time for me to end it. But fuck, that wasn't a conversation I looked forward to.
I threw my phone up again. It came sailing toward my face. I considered not catching it on purpose just to see if the falling object would knock some sense into me. My self-preservation instincts kicked in at the last second and I snatched it out of the air.
That was enough. I'd spent all morning in a similarly mopey mood, and I was getting tired of myself.
I dialed Lori's number and held the speaker to my ear. She picked on her customary last ring.
"Hey baby," Lori cooed. "I was hoping you'd call."
I cringed. Me being distant had pushed her to be extra affectionate over the past few days. It didn't look good on her.
"Can you come to the hotel?" I asked.
"Of course. Where do you want me to meet you?"
"My room."
"Absolutely, stud."
Lori was misinterpreting the reason for my call. I hadn't invited her to my room yet, so I supposed I couldn't blame her. In reality, I just didn't want there to be witnesses if she completely melted down. She could get downright screechy when she wanted to be.
"I'll see you soon."
I hung up the phone and tossed it over to the other side of the room. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud.
A second later, there was a knock on my door.
"That was quick," I muttered unhappily.
Had she been hanging outside my door all day, waiting for a summons?
I ran a hand over my face and rose from the bed, walking over to answer the door. A very tight-faced Russell stood on the other side, and I relaxed.
"You haven't seen Martin today, have you?" he asked.
I shook my head and frowned. "No. Why?"
Russell sighed. "I didn't think so. Can I come in?"
Russell's arrival was a welcome distraction from the scene of horror that was going to play out in my room within the next hour, so I gladly invited him inside. He strode over to the bed and perched on the edge of it. I didn't notice until then that there was a piece of paper clutched firmly in his right hand.
"What's going on?" I asked. "Where's Martin?"
Russell's kind brown eyes met mine, and he passed me the paper. "I think it'll be easier if you just read what he left."
Confused and curious, I grabbed the note and unfolded it. Martin's familiar loopy script occupied only the first few lines. Short but sweet.
Chad, I'm sorry. Lori and I sent Brin away. We've been sleeping together behind your back for months. You deserve better. Martin.
My eyes caught on the second line again and again, so much so that I barely even noticed the sentence that followed. Martin and Lori were responsible for Brin's ab
rupt departure? But how? What did they tell her? What must she have thought?
This couldn't be real. My best friend wouldn't do that to me. I looked over at Russell, expecting him to jump up and announce that the whole thing had been a joke, but the stoic set of his brow told me everything I needed to know.
My skin burned, heat flooding my face while my fingers somehow turned to ice. I crumpled the note in my hand and tossed it as far as I could. It fell somewhat pathetically to the carpet a few feet away.
"Did you know about this?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was hard when my whole world was imploding.
Russell shook his head vehemently. "No. Swear to god. Martin never told me anything; I didn't even know he had a thing for Lori."
I shook my head. “No, not about Lori. About Brin.”
His eyebrows knit in confusion. "No. I had no idea why she left, same as you."
I believed him, which was good since I felt downright murderous at the moment and he was the closest person to me. While I felt betrayed about Martin and Lori's affair, that no longer affected me the way it would have when I still thought I loved Lori. The real betrayal was Martin and Lori's colluding together to send Brin away. It was a good thing Martin had disappeared, which was likely why he had. Even if he'd broken every ounce of trust I'd ever put in him, the bastard still knew me better than anyone.
I focused on pulling in my rage. It wouldn't serve me well today, especially since Lori was coming by soon. I wanted to let her have it, to make her rue the day she ever thought to mess with my life, but what would be the point? Lori was Lori. She wasn't going to change, and even if she did, I wanted her out of my life for good. Besides, I had something else to figure out.
There was a glimmer of hope now. Brin hadn't left of her own accord, or if she had, it was because of something false that Martin had told her. I had to get to her somehow, had to show her how I felt. I wouldn't survive if I didn't at least try.
I pushed those thoughts down for now.
I cleared my throat and addressed Russell. "Lori's going to be here soon. You might want to get out of here."
"You don't need to tell me twice."
Russell cleared out of the room, leaving me alone with my rage. While I waited, I retrieved my phone from the floor and tried Brin's number again. It would be a miracle if she'd somehow unblocked me, which was why I wasn't surprised to find that wasn't the case. I didn't have any other way to get a hold of her and I cursed myself for not getting an email address or even a mailing address. How was I supposed to get my words in front of her?
Lori knocked on the door, and I texted Russell quickly, asking him to stop by my room in ten minutes with his laptop. Then I swallowed my anger and answered the door.
"How did it go?" Russell stepped into the room, his laptop bag slung over his back.
I let out a bitter chuckle and closed the door behind him. I thought about how Lori had shown up in an outfit that was obviously meant to seduce, and the moment she realized we weren't on the same page how her face had crashed. I thought about the screaming, the crying, the begging—all from her, of course. I found the whole show to be a bit too theatrical, considering she'd heartlessly lopped me off like a piece of hair with gum in it only a few weeks before.
"It went. She denied everything, of course, but I kicked her to the curb anyway. We're done. For good now."
Russell dropped his bag onto one of the chairs and started unloading his laptop onto the table.
"What if she was telling the truth though? I mean, if Martin already lied to you, who's to say he wouldn't lie about Lori's involvement? Maybe she didn't know anything about Brin's disappearance?"
I hadn't considered that. The whole thing seemed so right up Lori's alley that the thought that I shouldn't doubt her never crossed my mind. With Brin, I'd spent a whole damn week in denial that she would leave without saying anything, even though all the evidence suggested that that was the way things had happened and my own logic told me I deserved it.
Nevertheless, the plot had Lori’s stench all over it.
"She was involved." I sank down into the chair opposite Russell and rubbed my forehead. "She's always been a horrible liar. It wouldn't have mattered though—I was going to end things with her already. The past week with her has been nothing but a lie. We were over a long time ago."
"Fair enough." He booted up his laptop. "So, what do you need?"
"Can you pull up the footage from the first day of shooting? The kiss on the beach?"
Russell tapped on his laptop for a couple of seconds and then turned the screen to me. "This?"
The video played out, both of us relaxing on the sand and then Brin pouncing on me with a look of glee and wonder in her eyes. I'd replayed this video dozens of times since she left, to the point where I'd memorized each sweeping lash that brushed her cheek when she closed her eyes and sank into the kiss. My heart gave a wet thump.
"That's the one," I said. "Do you have a camera with you?"
"Sure." Russell rooted around in his bag and produced a small video camera, placing it on the table next to his laptop. "I gotta ask, what exactly are you going to do?"
"Good question." I snorted. "All I know is that I've got to find some way to tell Brin that what we had was real."
Twenty-One
Brin
My bedroom door squeaked open and Kim's face, topped by her massive bun, popped through. "Hey, I'm gonna head out now. You're out of paper towels."
I dropped my pen onto the notebook in my lap, frowning at her.
“I told you not to clean."
I expected her to make some churlish comment, but her expression flickered with indecisiveness. She had something to say that had nothing to do with paper towels.
I sighed and chuckled. "Just say whatever you want to say."
Kim smiled guiltily and entered the room, slinking over to my bed and sitting down on the edge of it. She picked up my notebook and looked at it approvingly.
"You're doing school work," she noted.
"I've been doing school work all week. I'm ahead of where I'm supposed to be now."
She nodded and dropped the book back in my lap. "I guess I just wanted to check in with you. You've been pretty quiet this week, and I'm having trouble gauging where you're at emotionally."
Fair enough. I'd been hiding in my room most of the time since I got home from the trip, but at least the past few days had been more congruous to a healthy and happy life. Catching up on my school work was a great way to distract myself from my feelings, and from the realization that I was going to have to go back to dancing next week.
"I'm good, Kim. I really am. I mean..." I grimaced. "That Chad and Lori thing. That was a bummer for sure, and I won't pretend like I'm not hurt, but there's no point in dwelling on it, right?"
"Right." She nodded.
I changed the topic as deftly as I could. "I just can't believe I have to go back to work next week. Bummer of the century."
Kim rubbed my back. "You could take more time off if you need."
"No, no," I quickly assured. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean that the trip put a few things in perspective for me, and one of them is that I need to work on getting myself out of there. For all his faults, Chad found his passion and pursued it—even when the people closest to him were hoping that he'd fail. I want to find that for myself. I've got a new appreciation for what I want my life to be, and all I want to do is get out there and explore the world."
"You will. For now, at least dancing pays the bills."
I chuckled. "That it does."
Kim slapped her knee. "I should be hitting the road. You sure you're good?"
"Better than good."
I tried on a smile that I hoped would seem as enthusiastic as I didn't feel. It must've worked because Kim left me to my school work without further issue.
As soon as I heard the front door slam, a craving that had been sleeping most of the day woke up and began gnawing on my stomach wi
th a vengeance. I tried to ignore it, wrinkled my forehead in concentration and everything, but it persisted like a bad cold.
I knew I would give in in the end. I always gave in. So why fight it?
I fought it, I reminded myself, because I knew that I should. Because I knew that it was the right thing for my sanity and that I'd never be able to get over Chad if I didn't let him go fully.
Still, I found myself giving a longing look to the laptop at the end of the bed. And, like an addict seeking their fix, I snatched it up.
Chad's YouTube channel had become my obsession. My addiction. No matter how much I told myself that it was wrong, how much I reminded myself that it would only make this longer overall, I couldn't stop torturing myself. Part of it was a morbid curiosity about what he and his new/old girlfriend were up to. Part of it was because the comments were like free therapy sessions.
Chad's fans hated Lori. On their most recent video, in which Chad was just as dead-eyed as he'd been in the one before, enough people had commented asking where I was that somebody had photoshopped my face and the words "missing persons" onto a picture of a milk carton and made it into a meme. Everyone had some sort of theory for my disappearance, and they ranged from realistic to hilariously outrageous. The general consensus, whatever the case, was that Lori was a cow and Chad had made a mistake getting back together with her.
I scrolled through these comments for half an hour, smiling like a nut job the entire time. It only hurt when I stopped to think about the permanence of my dismissal, so I didn't stop to think. I just read and enjoyed, delighting in the creative insults the fans concocted for their numero uno persona non grata.
It was a cruel and spiteful way to spend my days, and it probably blackened my soul a little bit each time, but in a way it made me feel better. At least that was what the addict side of myself reasoned. During these moments, it didn't matter that as soon as I closed the page, I'd feel like a hollowed out pumpkin, viciously scraped from the inside. For a few minutes I got retribution, and it tasted like heaven.
