Page 140 of A World Apart
“Tell me so I understand. Because I thought we hated him.”
“We do!” she cried. “I think. I don’t know anymore.” She started crying, shoulders-heaving, ugly crying sobs. Ignoring my ick, I moved to sit beside her so I could pull her into my arms.
It took her a while to get it all up, or at least as much as she had the reserves for right now.
Through her sniffles, she began to talk.
“He just showed up, not long after you’d left. Jose must have let him in, you know how much he always liked Ben. Or, I guess you probably don’t know that, because you weren’t here,” she smiled, but it was watery and weak.
“So, when someone knocked on the door, I thought it was you, that you’d forgotten something. I opened the door and almost fell on my ass when he was standing right there.
“I was just so shocked, you know? I haven’t seen him in more than a year, and he’s just standing there, like he never left. He asked to come in and I… I didn’t have it in me to say no.” She hiccupped and wiped her face, the tears coming slower now.
“I didn’t know what to say, I swear. The first thing to come out of my mouth was, “Where the hell have you been?” She laughed.
“And then, I don’t know what happened. We just talked. For ages. He’s been living with his mom and he started up his own business and he just kept saying he’s not the same Ben anymore, whatever the hell that means.
“And then we opened a bottle of wine and… I don’t know, it was like it was before. We were talking about the old days, and he kissed me. It just felt right, and believe me, I know that’s crazy, but I can’t explain it. One thing led to another, and then I guess we fell asleep.” She shrugged, and I could tell she was trying to make light of it, but her eyes were pinched from all the thoughts she was trying not to have. I knew her well enough to know when she’s doing mental gymnastics.
But, now was not the time. It was late, we were both tired. There would be time tomorrow to dissect this.
“Come on,” I stood, “bed.”
She looked up at me and nodded, rising to her feet and shuffling off to her bedroom. At the door to her room, she turned. “Hey,” I turned to look at her. “Did you have fun tonight?”
I smiled at the memory. “I really did.”
The next morning, we both got up late. I’d woken to several messages from Jihoon asking if I’d gotten home safe, and then to say he was going to the after party and then several selfies of him with multiple celebrities. I especially liked the photo-booth of all five members of GVibes, four members of a punk-rock band and Haley all shoved into a space designed for maybe half that many people. All wearing props, hats, or some kind of mask.
At least they’d been having fun, whilst I’d come home to find some dudes junk all over my sofa and my best friend in tears. I felt my ire rising again. I had to take several deep breaths just to be able to get out of bed. I needed to be cool about this. Becka had never told me much about their breakup, but I now suspected it was because she didn’t really understand what had happened. One day he was here, the next day he wasn’t.
I don’t know how a person gets over that.
I decided right then that I would be the supportive friend she needed, and only maybe make occasional comments about the sofa.
Becka wasn’t in the living room when I opened my bedroom door, but a quick glance round the corner into her room confirmed that while she was still in bed, she was sat up, reading a book. I knocked on the door to get her attention.
“Knock-knock. Room for one more?”
She looked up at me before putting down her book and patted the empty side of the bed. I walked over and flopped down next to her.
“Clumsy oaf,” she said, smiling down at me.
“Sofa slut,” I replied with an easy smile.
Becka groaned and threw her head back against her pillows as I snorted.
“Odds of you letting up about that this side of the apocalypse?”
“Not high,” I admitted with the kind of smile you might see on a TV presenter’s face along with the words, ‘and here’s what you could have won.’
“That’s what I get for riding the forbidden pogo stick on a shared sofa.” She sighed. I just nodded.
We were silent a few moments more before I said, “Wanna talk about it?”
Becka looked up at the ceiling, taking her time to answer. “I’ve been thinking about it. And while I don’t know how I feel about actually feeling it − I’m big enough to admit that the love is still there.” She shrugged. “I… still love him. I do. I thought I was done with it, I wanted to be done with it, you know?” She looked at me, frowning.
“I just can’t get there. I’m still pissed, oh man, am I royally fucking pissed, but it doesn’t override the annoying fact that I love the bastard.”
