Page 76 of Here's to Now

Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, self.

“I’m sure Cailee doesn’t mean anything by it. This is probably a stressful time for her. I think you should give her another shot.”

“Are you always so logical?”

“No, hardly ever. I’m the king of bad decision-making.”

“Yeah?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“How so?”

“In way too many ways to count, Hales,” I tell her, running a hand through my hair and ruffling it. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lay out all my bad shit, my extended criminal record, my family issues, to warn her to stay away because all I’ll end up doing is burning her trust, but I don’t, because I’m a selfish prick, just like I was when I was sixteen. I guess Benny was right; some people never change.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you’re doing.”

“Cleaning up puke? Sure.”

“Puke? Are you sick?”

“No, it’s not me. It’s my little brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

She sounds like someone jammed a knife into her back and twisted it. The hurt in her words makes me realize what shit friends we truly are. In the time I’ve known Haley, we’ve grown close, and not just sexually. But, if I’m being purely honest here, we allow one another to continue hiding our faults. We don’t talk about them. The proof lies in the fact that I had no idea Haley had cancer, something a genuine friend would know. Let’s not even get into how she has no idea I have a little brother, let alone three other siblings I’m helping raise. Sure, we tell one another some secrets, but even then we aren’t truly open and honest. We still only allow half-truths, and that’s sometimes as bad as saying nothing at all.

We may joke often about being best friends, but I realize now it’s so far out of our league.

We’re not friends, we’re faux friends. I have enough falsity in my life; I need reality.

Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead.

But not tonight, not right now when she’s already had a shit night and opened up a serious wound. It is not the time to go sharing my dirty secrets or for me to beg for hers.

“Yep, and he’s a twerp.”

“Someone related to you being twerp? You don’t say.”

“Hey, watch it. I’m the one who supplies you pleasure.”

“But baby, I can supply my own pleasure,” she purrs through the phone.

“I think I just came.”

“Liar.”

“Tease!”

“Guilty as charged. I’ll talk to you later, Gaige.”

“Bye, Hales.”

Sadness overwhelms me once I end the call, an ache forming in my chest. It’s so prominent that I have to rub my palm against the spot, trying to scrub away the hurt. It doesn’t work. I have this crushing amount of need building inside me, something that isn’t going to merely go away. I want more with Haley. I want our friends-with-benefits things to progress. I want an official relationship and a sincere friendship. I don’t want to have to say goodbye. Although we try hard to not label this and continue on pretending we’re still just friends who fuck a lot, we’re beyond that. Yet, we don’t talk about it. We just…go on.

I know in order for us to have a real go at this, we’re going to have be open and honest. Tomorrow. That’s when I’ll talk with her and see where she’s at on this. I’ll beg her to understand why I walked away from my family, to accept my history, to believe in me.

I promise I’ll do it tomorrow.

Promise.

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