Page 45 of If This Gets Out

He breathes out long and slow, and I can almost see him counting to five in his head. “I amtrying,” he says slowly.

“Tell me it won’t matter if Zach and I are never friends again. Tell me you won’t hold that against me.”

He seems confused, and I guess I don’t blame him. Everything’s muddled in my head, and I don’t know quite how I got there, but it’s suddenly very important to me to know that our friendship isn’t conditional based on how well I handle this situation. I need to know it’s okay, because I don’t think I can control this. It’s gotten away from me.

“I’ll still be your friend, if that’s what you mean,” he says carefully. “But I wouldn’t say it won’tmatter.”

“I need it to not matter.”

“But it will. I can’t help that. It sucks being stuck between you two all the time. I don’t want to choose.”

“No one’s asking you to choose.”

“Maybe, but it kind of feels like it sometimes.”

I go harder on the leg press. “I don’t know how to fix this,” I grunt.

“You could start by being a bit nicer to him.”

“What?” I ask, pausing. “He’s the one who keeps making comments aboutme.”

“I’d honestly say it’s about fifty-fifty.”

I shake my head without speaking, and Jon shrugs. “I’m just giving you feedback. You don’t need to take it.”

You always get sodefensivewhenever someone tries to give you feedback, Ruben.

Screw this. I throw my hands up, startling Jon. “Fine. Sure. I guess I’m the asshole here. Zach’s not doing anything wrong, and it’s all on me.”

“Ruben—”

“You want me to benicerto him? I’ll be super fucking nice. I’ll be the nicest goddamn person you’ve ever seen, andif he doesn’t magically become my friend again, maybe you’ll finally catch on that it’s not actuallymedoing this. I am justresponding, as well as Igoddamncan.”

“I’m going to go.”

I scoff as he gathers his gym gear. “Yeah, okay. Go. Sorry for not being super nice to you, either.”

“Okay, Ruben.”

“Tell your dad not to worry. The feedback’s beennoted! I’ll beso pleasant from now on, you won’trecognize me.”

I shout the second half of the sentence to a closed door.

Keegan raises an eyebrow at me. “You know, kid, you probably could’ve handled that better,” he says, lowering the dumbbell to his side. My cheeks burn, and I scowl and turn back to my workout.

It’s really, really difficult to keep up a pleasant appearance during the interview. I manage it, though. Because unlike some people, I understand that it’s important to leave emotions at the door when you walk into work.

I’ve been asniceas I possibly can be to Zach ever since we left the hotel. On the minibus over here, I asked Zach how he was (fine, thanks). I asked him how he’d slept (yeah, fine). I asked him if he’d heard of the chocolate-covered strawberries they have in Belgium, and if he thinks we’ll get the chance to try them (I dunno, maybe).

With every question, he shrank further away from me, staring at me with wary hazel eyes. Like I was threatening him with a weapon, not asking him pleasant conversational questions. Every now and then I looked over to Jon, to see if he noticed. He spent the ride staring pointedly out the window, chewing frantically on his bottom lip. Angel spent the whole ride on his phone.

In fact, the interview is the first time I’ve had someone properly acknowledge my existence since Jon left me alone in the gym.

Jon and I are sitting on a cream-colored couch, with Angel and Zach taking the armchairs to either side. Against the wall, Erin’s sitting and scrolling on her iPad, Keegan’s bouncing his crossed legs as he scans the room, and Penny’s watching us eagerly. Our interviewers are two women in their twenties, both dressed head to toe in couture. They’re sweet and, luckily, don’t seem to be trying to lead us with their questions like some others do.

There’s not as much banter as there usually is, today. The Tension is sitting over us like a blanket sucking away our oxygen, putting out our fire.

Jon’s the best at ignoring it. Right now, he’s rhapsodizing about our history. He takes a lot of the “band-centric” questions. He’s spent a lifetime in training, after all.

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