Page 10 of Inevitable

“M&M, you okay? Are you sick?” Bash called out to me. I breathed in deep, trying to steady myself enough to not raise any suspicion in him. “Yeah, I…I’m good, it’s just the drinks coming back up. You know I’m a shitty drinker,” I awkwardly joked.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the poor idiot looking back at me. The idiot who allowed himself to think for even a minute that his best friend would suddenly turn around and want to be with him romantically. The poor sap who had let his better judgment fly out the window and didn’t think twice before falling into bed with the single human being he couldn’t live without.Oh wait…that’s just me.

Another wave of tears came over me and I turned on the sink to drown out the sound so Bash wouldn’t hear me. His voice came through the door again, “Okay…do you need anything or want me to help? You know I’m here for you, M&M.”

For some reason, that only made the tears fall harder and I willed myself to respond to him as confidently as I could. “No, all good. Promise. I’ll be right out.” I don’t know how I managed to form any words through the devastation swarming my insides, but it worked because Bash just told me to take my time and then we could maybe grab breakfast before he had to head out to see his parents.

Perhaps for the first time in the near decade that we'd been friends, I had no interest in being around him. His very presence in my roomright now was like a siren blaring in my ear, loudly reminding me that all we had shared together was nothing more than a forgotten memory, an evanescent moment in time that only I held close, refusing to let it go. I would hold it in my heart like a cherished treasure until one day something would come along and replace it without it tearing a hole in the very fabric of my being.

However, today was not that day. Today, I needed to clear my head and my heart and prepare myself to face the day with my best friend and the new future that I now knew without a doubt wouldn’t include an “us”. Not in that way because all Bash would ever be was mybest friend.

I had to accept that indisputable fact and do something I had never quite managed to do in eight, long years.

Move on.

CHAPTER 6

Micah

The next week passed by in a blur of numbness tinged with crippling regret and soul-crushing grief.There were spurts of time where it would steal my breath to think about the incredible way Bash and I had fallen into one another that night, but then it would be abruptly snuffed out when I’d realize all over again that he remembered none of it.It didn’t exist to him.I alone carried the secret of our stolen kisses and caresses, and it was a burden that was slowly crushing me beneath its weight.

The morning we woke up together in my bed had been one of the most difficult days that I had in recent history.After I had reasonably gathered myself after my unfortunate little breakdown, Bash and I had gone out for breakfast where I attempted to act like nothing was amiss. Did I succeed? Fuck, no. But points for effort.

Bash definitely noticed something was off with me if his furtive glances and pained looks were anything to go by, but he wisely didn’t ask me about it and the two hours passed without further incident.I never thought there’d be a time where I was grateful when Bash left, but when he wrapped me up in a fierce hug that radiated through every cell in my broken body, all I felt was immense relief when he finally walked out the door.It caused a heavy lump to crawl up my throat at the thought, but it was for the best.I could only hang in there so long before I inevitably broke down again, and the hangover excuse would probably only work once.

The strangest thing about that morning was the look Bash keptgiving me when I’d randomly meet his eyes.If I didn’t know him as well as I did (and that included biblically now), I might not have been able to read the emotion hidden there, but when I looked I saw the undeniable guilt and contrition in his bright green orbs.

He was more than likely feeling guilty that he had gotten so blasted at the party and ended up blacking out on me during my last weekend at UNT. I couldn’t think of anything else he’d feel guilty about other than him calling me “baby”...yeah, that apology had stung big time. Where the one little word meant the world to me, it was nothing but a drunken mistake to him. If only he remembered the rest of the night, he’d definitely think that was a mistake, too.

Uuuugghhh…God, I hate my life.

By the time Saturday rolled around and my car was loaded with the few belongings that couldn’t go in the moving van my parents had rented, I was relatively stable and in semi good spirits considering the complete clusterfuck of the previous weekend.I had given myself a dozen or more pep talks over the week that being at UT was a fresh start for me and Bash, and I would certainly be able to meet guys in Austin that would help me in my quest to get over him.Not that the thought still didn’t fill me with nauseating depression, but I was training myself to push it down and not let it derail me.Call me an optimist, but I was determined to get over him by Christmas at the latest.

HAH! Who the fuck am I kidding?I’ll be lucky if I don’t go to my grave still making heart eyes at that dreamy, forgetful bastard.

It didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.Maybe seeing Bash on campus and at parties with his friends and in his element with all the flirty girls vying for his attention would be enough to make it sink into my skull that we were never going to happen. It just had to because despite the hot mess that we went through that night and the following morning, Bash was still my favorite person alive and I couldn’t picture a world where he wasn’t my best friend and soulmate.

Bash wasn’t able to make it down to help me move on Saturday, but he was weirdly vague about the reason for it.He kept alluding to a “prior commitment” that he couldn’t get out of, so I assumed his dad had made plans for him to attend some political function in the hopes of his parents looking like the new June and Ward Cleaver.PoorBashy Cleaver…I do not envy him that one bit.

With Bash being busy all that day, we had just agreed to get together on Sunday so he could show me around the campus formally and grab lunch together.I was actually looking forward to it, which was weird considering the turmoil still rattling around in my brain from the past week, but fuck if I didn’t miss him.We hadn’t Facetimed at all that week, and our texts were more sporadic than was usual for us.Thatwas the messed up thing about it all…he was still my Bash.He hadn’t stopped being my person and the one who knew me like the back of his hand just because we had screwed around together. To him, nothing between us had changed and it made sense. After all, he didn’t remember making me spout off like a geyser in my bed with him.He had no reason to think anything was different, whereas my world had been slightly off kilter since the instant it had happened.

It’s like when you’re just bordering on tipsy where you’re in control of your faculties and can function fairly well, but everything is just tilted and funky enough to alert you that something is off.That’s what my life had been since the first brush of his lips on mine, and I had to learn to live with it.

After a grueling two and a half hours moving into my double apartment that I was sharing with a roommate who had yet to make an appearance, I was sweaty, exhausted, and regretting every decision in my life that led to this moment. But that was most likely the muscle pain talking.I just need a minute to return to my regularly scheduled programming.

My dad kicked the front door closed behind him and set the last box down on the kitchen island, taking a deep breath and wiping his brow.“Well, you’re officially moved in and I am wiping my hands of you, guttersnipe!” he quipped, dramatic to a fault.My father, the comedian, ladies and gents.

I just rolled my eyes at him while he chuckled at his own joke in true dad fashion.My mom came up beside me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Remind me again why I married him? Honestly, I’m struggling to remember the reason,” she voiced sarcastically.My dad then pretended to be shot in the heart and stumbled back.

I swear, my dad thinks he lives in a Monty Python routine most days. Bless his heart.

“Ugh! You wound me, my love! Have you no shame?” my dad said in a terrible British accent.My mom just laughed at his antics, her eyes shining with love and adoration.It was almost painful to witness because that was the kind of love and connection I wanted with someone one day. Of course, I didn’t want it with just anyone, but that pipe dream was more like a pipe bomb that had exploded on impact the day after the party.

“Alright, if you two are done being morons, I’d like to get started on unpacking and settling in.I don’t want to spend the weekend surrounded by boxes and anxiety,” I said.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll get out of your hair,” my dad replied, “See how quick he is to push out his own parents? The ones who gave life to himand filled his days with love?”

Okay, yeah…I see where I get my dramatics from now.There’s a foolproof DNA test if ever there was one.

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