Page 122 of Let It Be Me

“So you didn’t have to be a bitch. He wasn’t there to see how much better you are than me.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You being a bitch. Pointing out everything I don’t know about the festival, rolling your eyes over every idea I have. I’m just wondering who you need to feel superior in front of since Lorenzo wasn’t there.”

She hoists her camera bag higher on her shoulder. “I don’t have time for your insecurities, Ruby. I have somewhere to be.”

“No, you don’t,” I say as she starts to turn away.

She stops to glare at me. “Okay, say what you want. I can tell you really need me right now because you have no one else to unload on, so go ahead.”

I hate the way this knocks me off-balance, so I lob a surprise of my own at her. “Lorenzo and I aren’t together anymore. So if you plan on kicking off your campaign to get him back, you and I better clear the air.”

She makes an insulted huff but gives up quickly, unable to hide her interest in this new information. “So you’re still friends?”

I nod even though it’s a lie. We don’t see each other, we don’t talk, we don’t even text. For all I know, Lorenzo’s been sleeping with Alli every night since we broke up. But the idea of this silence being more than just a temporary state is unbearable. Unimaginable, really.

“I have no plans to get him back, so I don’t owe you anything.” Alli looks down her nose at me.

“Well, I think we can agree the idea of spending all day at the fair side by side sounds like hell. And Wythe has a soft spot for me and my lost-puppy vibes, so if you want her to gush about you to your advisor or whatever you hope to get out of this, you don’t want her hearing how you made me cry.”

“I’m not doing this for brownie points.”

I snort. “Right.”

“Okay, so clear the air already! What do you want?”

“I want to know why you could never stand to be anything more than shitty to me. I didn’t hate you in the beginning. In fact, I was almost as impressed with you as Lorenzo was. And even when that changed, I busted my ass trying to be nice, and you know why? Because even when I couldn’t stand you, I saw how good you were to him. And I was grateful for that. Why couldn’t you just suck it up and do the same for me?”

“I tolerated you, didn’t I? I think I did pretty damn well considering what your presence did to our relationship.”

“Tolerated? You took every chance to make it clear you didn’t want me around.”

She crosses her arms. “You know why? Because I didn’t want you around!”

“Don’t act like I was some desperate third wheel tagging along on date nights and sleepovers. So I wanted to be around for my best friend’s birthday? Or his family parties that I’ve been attending since I was eight years old? What was wrong with that?”

The silence that follows is thick. I see something brewing in Alli’s eyes, but I don’t recognize it. “Because I hated the way I felt when you were around.”

I stare at her. I never expected to be able to relate to Alli Lennox so hard. “I never tried to make you feel?—”

“Oh, please, it wasn’t you. It was the way Lorenzo responded to you. The way he looked at you, talked to you, laughed at your stupid jokes. It was the way I wanted him to respond to me.”

This bitch. Trying to rewrite history. Trying to pretend Lorenzo didn’t bend over backward to make him having a female best friend as comfortable for Alli as possible. I shake my head. “Bullshit. Lorenzo wasn’t like that. Do you have any idea how hard he workednotto make you feel that way? You and your feelings were the center of his world.”

“I know he tried. I get it—he was an amazing boyfriend.”

“Then stop acting like he ignored you the second I came around.”

“I never said that. I’m saying there are some feelings you can’t hide. Like the way Lorenzo worshipped you.”

I shake my head.

“It’s true. I didn’t think he had feelings for you beyond friendship, and even then, I knew I could never compete withyou in his eyes. Even then, I worked harder to look good every time I knew you’d be around.” She gestures vaguely at herself, and I know I’m supposed to be noticing how pretty she is, but under the fluorescent lighting, I see the cluster of tiny bumps scattered across her forehead and the sweat marks under her arms. And as much as I dislike her, I feel for her. “And that fucking hurt because no matter how much better I was on paper, you still won. There was nothing I could do.”

“Maybe the problem was you seeing it as a competition.”

“Like you didn’t?”

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