Page 22 of You Will Never Be Me

I tear my eyes from them, and the next thing I see is another party guest staring at me while whispering something to the person next to him. I cast my gaze desperately, searching for a friendly face but finding none, and the stares and whispers skitter across my skin like insect legs, creeping and cutting their way right into my chest, burying themselves in the cavity of my flesh.

I can’t quite get out of the living room fast enough. There is no networking to be found here. For whatever reason, this crowdhas turned its back on me, and its toxin is burning into my skin. Have they seen the footage of me at the doctor’s today? I’ve been monitoring it, and it hasn’t quite gone as viral as I’d feared. But it’s only a matter of time before it completely blows up, right? What am I even doing here? I escape outside and walk to where my car is parked, hoping that the cold night air will refresh me. In the distance, I catch sight of a familiar figure walking rapidly away from the direction where my car is parked.

Meredith?

The dark, waist-length hair is unmistakably hers, but when I try to call out, her name catches in my throat like a sharp fish bone, choking me. The sight of her tears what is left of me into ragged pieces. I wish I could run to her and grab her and beg her for forgiveness. Explain to her that I didn’t mean to alienate her, that the only friendship I hold dear, that means anything to me, is hers. That without her, everything is turning to shit. That I need her. That I miss her so fucking much.

She’s walking too fast for me to catch up, and before I know it, she’s turned down a corner and disappeared. I stand there for what seems like ages, my thoughts churning in a confused mess. It can’t be Meredith. My breath releases in a defeated sigh. There is nothing left for me here. I should go home, be with my family. My steps are slow, heavy with exhaustion.

I’m a few feet away from my car when I notice something weird about it. It seems—I can’t put my finger on it. I quicken my pace, and when I get to my car, a gasp escapes my mouth. It’s sitting lower, closer to the ground. Because all the tires have been slashed. Vicious lacerations that leave no room for interpretation, no possible way this was an accident. Fear smothers me, its stench drowning all of my senses. The slashed rubber tires lookgruesome, like an open carcass. Who could’ve done this?The party, everyone staring, whispering. Who hates me this much?The woman who looks so much like Meredith from a distance, hurrying away. No. There’s an explanation for everything, there must—

“Aspen!”

A scream lurches out of me before I can stop myself. I jerk upright and raise my arms defensively.

“Whoa, you okay?”

My heartbeat is thunder, my eyes wild. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up to my fight-or-flight instincts and register who’s in front of me.

“Liv!” I squawk. “You scared me.”

My assistant gives a nervous laugh. “Yeah, obviously I did. Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just so surprised to see you out here.”

“What are you doing here?” The question, meant to be casual, comes out accusatory.

“One of my friends invited me as her plus-one. But it got a bit too much for me—there are so many huge stars in there! I came out to get some air. I was looking for you the whole evening, actually.”

Now that my heart is no longer trying to squeeze its way up my throat, I feel a little bit better. Well, less like I’m about to have an anxiety-induced heart attack, at least. Having Liv here helps; she’s so bubbly in a wear-her-heart-on-her-sleeve way, and after the pointed looks and snubs at the party, it’s a welcome change.

“Are you off for home now?” Liv says.

“Well, I was, but…” I gesture at my tires. Liv’s gaze follows my hand, and her eyes widen.

“Wow, what the fuck?” she gasps.

Somehow, seeing the shock and horror on her face eases theweight that was crushing my chest a little. It feels comforting to share this horrific incident with someone.

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.

“Who would do this? That’s messed up!” Liv cries.

For a moment, I consider telling her about Meredith, but I quickly dismiss the idea. The last thing I want is for someone else to know about my fight with Mer. As ridiculous as it sounds, it would feel like a betrayal of Mer. I could never bad-mouth her, not now, not ever. No matter how bad our fight was, Mer will forever be my best friend, my other half.

“I don’t know,” I say finally.

Liv shakes her head and looks around the neighborhood. “I bet it was some teens playing Truth or Dare. They probably thought they were such badasses. God, that sucks. I’m sorry, Aspen. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. It’s late. You can deal with this tomorrow. Or better yet, ask Ben to do it for you.”

I manage a weak smile. Hah. Yeah, ask Ben to take care of this for me. Unlikely. He was so grumpy about me coming to this party in the first place, loading the dishwasher so angrily that I wondered if he would break the crockery. Made snide little remarks about having to stay in and look after our kids on a Friday night. Made other little remarks about how the others would probably bring their spouses to the party. He’s not wrong; many of the attendees did bring their spouses. But I didn’t want to bring Ben, not this Ben, not Unhappily Married Ben. Old Ben—Breadwinner Ben, Head of the Household Ben—was very fun at parties. Current Ben is full of bitterness, his jokes coming out sour with resentment, his eyes full of contempt for anything social media related. I can’t bring Current Ben to a party of influencers, for god’s sake.

Liv keeps up an easygoing chatter as we make our way to her car. It’s a comfortable SUV with a car seat in it. Although she’s worked as my assistant for quite a while now, I’m ashamed to say that I hardly know anything about Liv, aside from the fact that she’s got about a hundred and fifty thousand followers on TikTok and has a baby. A boy? A girl? Their age? I have no idea. I know, it’s awful of me, but Liv mostly works remotely, and I’ve kept our conversations pretty strictly about work only.

Now, as she slips into the driver’s seat, I take in little details about Liv that I haven’t noticed before. We’ve only met two or three times, and each time I was so focused on giving her tasks that I hadn’t stopped and considered her as a person. Liv isn’t naturally pretty, but her makeup and hair are so on point that she does end up looking very attractive. The way she talks is easy and welcoming, and before I know it, I’m relaxed in my seat, watching the LA lights as Liv guides the car down the Hollywood Hills.

Liv glances at me. “You okay? Still thinking about your car?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know, it’s probably a stupid prank, but it really scared me back there.”

Liv gives me a sympathetic grimace. “I bet. I would’ve been freaked out too.” She pauses, then says, “You know what? We’re going to make a pit stop.”

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