Page 19 of Forever & Always You
Maybe it’s because I’m semi-drunk that the corners of my eyes nip with tears. I blink hard to keep them at bay. “You were the most genuine friend I ever had, Austin.”
“And yet you couldn’t bear to be caught even saying hi to me,” he says sharply, that soft tone now hardened in self-defense. “You’d walk with me all the way to the bus, then refuse to sit with me. When you got your license, you’d act like you were doing me a favor by dropping me off before you parked up. And if I even dared to look at you in class, you sure as hell had something cruel to spit across the room at me, and you’d smirk when the class snickered at just howhilariousyou were. Oh, Gabrielle McKinley, you weresocool. I can’t imagine how humiliating it would have been for you if anyone had discovered we were actually friends. Don’t even get me started on prom.”
Now I’m fighting for my life trying to hold back the tears. Every single word that leaves his mouth is a punch to the gut, and my body involuntarily curls inwards with a need to protect my vital organs. This is my punishment, and I deserve all of the guilt his words stir up within me. But I absolutely cannot cry, because I’m not the victim. The villain doesn’t get to cry.
Austin shifts to the edge of his stool, leaning in closer to me. The power of his stare forces me to look at him, but I’m already crumbling as it is without now seeing the anguish in his eyes. “Answer me this, Gabby: did I do one single thing to deserve it?”
“No,” I admit, the word a mere croak.
The muscle in his clenched jaw twitches. “So my only crime was being poorer than you?”
Every inch of my face aches as the tears push harder to break free. My throat burns, pressure builds in my cheeks, and my eyes sting so intensely I’m convinced they must be red raw. But Austin deserves my full attention, so I hold the eye contact despite how much it’s killing me.
I lost my way in high school. As we entered our freshman year, Austin and I were joined at the hip, but it became apparent very quickly that there was a social hierarchy in high school, and those from wealthier backgrounds were at the very top of the ladder. When it came to Austin, it was a case of sink or swim. My status and reputation became the most important thing in my life, and Austin was dragging me down. I loved the safety that came with being popular. I got invited to every party, my jokes were never met with stone cold silence, and I was never the target of abuse. I knew I was privileged and I played up to it, and maybe it was my mother’s beliefs instilled in me growing up, but I did fall into the trap of believing I was better than others simply because our house was larger, our cars faster, our clothes designer. High school was so easy for me.
Austin’s experience was the polar opposite. He became an outcast, a recluse, even though I knew how great a person he was. But he wasn’t brought up the same way the rest of us were, and that made him different. He was the best runner on the varsity track team, but even being athletic wasn’t enough to save him. At first, I stood by, caught in a moral dilemma as my cooler friends would torment him. He’d catch my eye across the hall, waiting for his best friend to come to his aid, but I never once opened my mouth to protect him. Somewhere along the way, my reputation became more important than our friendship, and I became just like everyone else, making Austin the butt of everyjoke. Within the confines of our high school walls, we weren’t friends. Back at home in the evenings, we’d hang out together while I promised Austin I didn’t mean anything I’d said that day. And he forgave me every single time, until senior prom when the damage was irreparable.
It all seems so silly now, throwing a perfect friendship down the drain over the opinions ofteenagers. It really wasn’t that deep and means absolutely nothing now, but at the time, being accepted and valued was the most important thing in my life. And even that is no excuse.
“Austin,” I say, swallowing, “I am so, so sorry.”
Someone latches onto Austin’s shoulder from behind us and we both jolt in surprise, our eye contact severed. For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in this bar, but now some girl has her arms wrapped around Austin’s neck.
“Hey you! What are you doing hanging around here?” she asks cheerfully, then steals a glimpse at me out of the corner of her eye. She does a double take, releasing Austin from what is quite nearly a head lock and gaping at me instead. Her smile stretches all the way to her eyes. “Gabby!What the hell?”
Again, maybe it’s the wine, because I didn’t even recognize her at first. And that’s terrible from me, because she was one of my closest friends in high school. “Sasha!”
I set my glass of wine down on the bar and get to my feet, still trapped between Austin’s thighs, and lean over to exchange a hug with Sasha Tate. As she pulls back from me, she runs her fingers through the ends of my curls.
“These are gorgeous! Is this your natural style?”
“Yes,” I say sheepishly, sinking into my shoulders. I don’t think I ever embraced my natural hair for a single day of high school. It was always pencil straight with too many dead ends, but straight hair was cool, and I would do whatever it took to be cool.
Austin nods to the empty stool on the other side of me. “Can I get you a drink, Sash?”
And I really don’t mean to pointedly glower at him the way I do when I hear him say “Sash,” but what the fuck? Sasha and I were friends in high school, which means she and Austin definitely weren’t. Why the hell do they seem like friendsnow? She was as awful to him as I was, but maybe this means there is hope for forgiveness, after all.
“Oh, just a beer is fine, thanks!” Sasha says, settling onto the stool next to me as Austin flags down the bartender. Sasha has a beautiful, broad smile that creates dimples in her cheeks. She flicks her brunette hair behind her and gestures to me in disbelief. “God, I haven’t seen you in so long! I can’t believe you’re back in town. How are things? Where are you living now?”
“Oh, I stayed put in Durham,” I tell her with a shaky laugh, sipping awkwardly at my wine rather than expanding further, because it would be beyond embarrassing to admit to the sad state of affairs my life has become. When I was accepted into Duke University, I walked around the halls of our high school with, in hindsight, a sickening degree of smugness. It’s not even an Ivy League school, and there were definitely a few kids in my class who got into those, but Duke is still pretty prestigious and I thought I was so special. “How about you?”
“Still here!” Sasha says proudly, like she’s one of the rare few who never step foot out of their hometown. “I opened my own salon last year. Beauty, with a specialty in lashes. Business is doing great! If you need those nails done, let me know!” She nods to my hand wrapped around my wine glass, my nails plain and chipped from working the bar. “What do you do in Durham?”
“Here you go, Sash,” Austin says, and I’m grateful for his interruption when he leans over me to hand Sasha the beer heordered for her. He smiles tightly at me, and I register every single ounce of sarcasm in his expression. “You guys weresoclose in high school. You didn’t stay in touch?”
“Oh, you know, people drift apart when they head off to college .?.?.” I mumble, throwing my head back as I empty my wine glass.
“Ididtext you all the time, Gabby,” Sasha points out, biting her lip awkwardly. “You never responded, so I gave up after a while. It’s okay, though!” She reaches out for my hand and squeezes it reassuringly when my face drops. “I don’t take it personally. You probably made so many new friends at Duke.”
Austin rests his elbow up on the bar again and says, “I’m not sure Gabrielle has any friends.”
The way he says it, with that snide little undertone, makes my stomach churn.
“I have plenty,” I say stiffly, though it’s not even true. Idon’thave many friends, but no fucking way is Austin getting to broadcast the fact.
He purses his lips with mock sympathy and leans further onto the bar to peer around me. “Didn’t you know, Sash? Gabrielle dropped out of Duke. Never graduated. You don’t even have a job anymore, do you, Gabs?” The smirk he gives me is truly wicked. “She got fired. Now who the hell gets fired from their job as a bartender? She drives a busted-up Prius and is only here because her crap apartment has plumbing issues. Isn’t that what you said? Your apartment is shitty? But hey, I’m not one to judge.” He pats my thigh patronizingly, and I grab his hand and crush his fingers so hard, my own knuckles turn white. Our eyes are fiercely locked. “I know what it’s like to have nothing going for you, but who’d have thought, huh? Gabrielle McKinley slumming it through life.”
“Fuck you, Austin,” I spit.
