Page 2 of Between Us

The three of us look like an unlikely group to say the least. Margo is tall, a perfect blonde, a total goth babe, and hopelessly in love with our best friend’s oldest brother.

Said best friend, Meera, is petite with a deep golden complexion and dark brown hair, a musical genius, and the heart of a romantic, but the attention span of a rubber band.

I’m the athlete between us, with an average height and, according to Margo, ‘the one with the best tits between the three of us, even if I refuse to show them off.’ And as far as their viewpoints on love go, I fall somewhere in the middle.

They’ve been a surprising duo since elementary school, and despite growing up in the private school system, were almost as big social pariahs as I was.

The only reason I made it as long as I did at Serenity Prep Academy was because they took me under their wings and have loved me fiercely ever since. Even if I sometimes still feel like the odd man out.

“How are you feeling about them leaving?” Catalina probes.

Thinking it over, I pull one of the pillows onto my lap and pick at a loose thread. “I mean, I’m happy for them… of course, I’m so happy for them.” Margo’s wanted to join a fashion program for as long as I’ve known her, and every time she mentions Parsons School of Design, there are stars in her eyes. Then there is Meera, who has worked her ass off her entire life, being accepted to fuckingJuilliardon a full scholarship.In a few years, Margo and I’ll be watching her perform in one of New York’s top orchestras at this rate.

“You can be happy for themandmiss them, Blake.”

“I know.” I nod, trying to convince myself. “They’re my safety blanket, you know?”

“They are, and they’ve been a very loyal, supportive one at that. But you need to live your own life too.”

Blinking back tears, I quietly admit, “I don’t know how… They’re doing such amazing things—together no less—and it’s hard not to feel like I’m being left behind. Again.”

Before I started at SPA, I already struggled with things like fitting in and feeling misunderstood. More so from being younger than my brother and our family friends. But sometimes the festering wound opens again.

She leans forward, waiting until I finally make eye contact with her. “You’re so young, Blake. You’reeighteen. You have no idea the amount of life you still have ahead of you. There’s a passion out there for you, and it’ll be just as fulfilling as Margo’s and Meera’s.”

I take a deep breath, trying to let her words seep into my bones and soul, so maybe I’ll believe it one day too.

The rest of our session goes by quickly. We talk more about how I can prepare myself to say bye to my friends soon, and Catalina reminds me it’s only until fall break.

By the time I’m walking back to my car, I do feel better. Even if that never-ending hold on my heart is still present, I’ve learned to live with that little figurative storm cloud always hanging over me.

As I’m settling into my old black Jetta, I roll the windows down and pull my phone out of my small bag. There are a few texts waiting for me in our group chat,island of misfit toys.Margo named it, of course.

Wed, July 23 at 2:02 PM

Margo

Blakeee babe

Are you done yet? I need every second of your time possible

Meera

You know she has therapy today

Take your time. We’ll meet you as soon as you’re ready

Margo

It’s been an hour. She has to be done soon

Meera

Omg go fix your eyeliner or something

I can’t help but snort at Meera’s response. We’ve had to wait on Margo’s make-up more than a few times, especially when we were younger, and she was first learning how to apply it properly.

Margo

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