Page 389 of Vicious Saint
“Just a little something for you to pass the time.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
She nods, placing the gift down on the only empty space Mom left in my room—the floor—then gestures to a chair beside the bed.
“Mind if I sit?”
“Sure.”
A stretch of awkward silence passes between us as I lay here, watching Bex link and unlink her fingers on her lap. “So…how are you feeling?” she finally asks, keeping her voice low to not wake Archer.
“Like I was tortured for over an hour.”
Bex frowns. “I’m so sorry this happened to you…and for being a contributing factor.”
“I mean…you weren’t the one torturing me in a basement.”
“Just the catalyst that brought you there.”
Is this partly true? Yes.
But the lucid me knows breaking girl code doesn’t quite fall in line with going on a murder spree.
Carlo dying on the other hand…
“You should’ve told me,” I say honestly.
“I know, and I did try once I found out you and Saint were together. Even after you broke up. But then I spoke…” She clears her throat. “I realized I didn’t want you to hurt even more.”
“Saint told me about your conversation in the locker room, Bex.”
There’s a spark of relief in her bright eyes, but not enough to rid the guilt in them. “I didn’t want to sound like I was finding an excuse.”
“There is no excuse to find. Saint was wrong to make you feel bad about telling me what happened between you guys on your birthday. But you, as my best friend, should’ve known me better than to listen to him.”
“You’re right, and I swear if I knew you guys already hooked up it would’ve never happened. I would’ve found another way to cope.” Bex pauses, eyes glistening. “To be honest…I’d take back that whole dreadful night if I could.”
A slew of horrible memories from Bex’s eighteenth birthday put my heart in a chokehold, confirming how I’d sooner go back and die in that basement than ask her to relive her trauma for my sake.
So, after choosing my words carefully, I respond with, “I know how hard that night was for you, which is why I would’ve understood.” Archer stirs, so I lower my voice to a whisper. “You were the first friend I made in Riverside, Bex, and quickly became my best friend. This wasn’t from the process of elimination. Or to avoid being alone. It’s because I felt like I could trust you.” With a huff, I add, “Don’t you see? I’m not hurt by you hooking up with Saint. I’m hurt by your lack of trust in me.”
“I trust you with my life, babe. I swear it. I’ve just been a shit best friend lately.” Bex climbs on the bed to sit next to me, then squeezes her hand over the one I have resting on the pillow. “But please, is there any chance you’ll allow me to make it up to you? I promise to be open, make more time for us, check in when I’m with Crayton. Everything. Anything.”
“You’re not a shit friend, Bex. You made a shitty decision. And as much as I can relate to shitty decisions, I just can’t give you an answer right now. I’m sorry.”
Tears full-on spring from her eyes, and she releases me. “Of course.”
“I do love you, though, babe. That hasn’t changed.”
“I love you so much too, Hendrix. I can’t imagine my life without you as a best friend…and hope I won’t have to.”
My eyes water too, and, like with my mom, the urge to hug Bex slowly creeps up on me.
“Just give me some time, yeah?”
Bex’s exhale is shaky, but she nods. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
More stirring comes from Archer, but this time he’s awake.
