Page 55 of My Best Friend's Bully

“And I appreciate that Mom. It changed my life.” It’s true. If I hadn’t left when I had, I’d probably have spent my whole life feeling like an understudy. “Besides, I still visited you, still called.”

“Thank God you did because otherwise, I would’ve been showing up at your door, mister. You can’t run from your mother.” She narrows her eyes until I hold up my hands in surrender.

“I would never. You’ve always been kind to me. Unlike Cole. Unlike Dad.” I stare at a knot in the wood-paneled wall, trying to ignore the twinge of pain that comes with the thought of the two of them.

“I think if you gave them a chance, they might surprise you these days. I know it’s not that easy,” she says, holding up a hand to forestall my protests, “but it might be worthwhile. Hear them out. Find a middle ground. It’s not too late to patch things up between you boys.”

“Why would I want to patch things up with either of them?” I ask, choking down the edge that creeps into my voice. My mom doesn’t deserve my venom. “They were the bullies. Why don’ttheytry? Why does it have to be me?”

Her words are too reminiscent of Jordan’s plea for me to do the same thing — to reach out and have a heart-to-heart with Cole. After his outburst on the street, it’s the last thing I want to do. I already know how Cole feels about me, he shouted it out for everybody on the street to hear. Why do I need to hear him say it again?

“Honey, I’m not going to force you to do anything. I’m just so happy to have you back and to see you with them. Even it’s a little awkward, it still fills me with joy. But don’t do it for me. Do it for yourself. Forgiveness is a powerful thing.” She takes a sip of her wine and pinches her lips together. It’s a gesture I recognize from my teenage years, the kind that meansthis conversation is over.

I change the subject, talking about my day at the shelter, but her words stick in my mind. What’s the worst that can happen? If Cole blows up at me again, at least I can tell Jordan I tried and she’ll drop it. Then we can get back to that happy place we were in before Cole intruded. Back to when she was in my arms.

Chapter 28

Jordan

It’sSunday.Thelastday before my Neurology exam. I woke up early to study and made Cole quiz me at Cupitol for so long he had to beg for mercy. After drinking two coffees at the café, I took an extra large cup to-go and headed home, ready to study until I either fell asleep on my textbooks or had a heart attack from caffeine overdose, whichever came first. Cole wanted to come back with me but I knew he’d make me do silly things like take breaks and rest, so I told him I wanted to work alone for a while.

There’s a lot of challenging material to cover, so I put on some upbeat music and get comfortable at my desk, folding my legs under myself and draping a blanket over my lap. I’ve been scraping by lately, maintaining my solid A grade, but it hasn’t come easily. I start with some practice questions pulled from old exams, but the music is too loud for me to focus, so I unlock my phone and open the app to lower the volume. I can’t resist swiping over to the text message app.

Tyson’s name has dropped down the list as I’ve fought the temptation to text him. I should have deleted the thread entirely to prevent the temptation, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, no matter how many times my fingers hovered over the trash can icon. Maybe I should block him. I put the phone down with a clunk and turn back to my notes. But now that I’ve thought about him I can’t stop. It’s Sunday, so he’s probably not working. Is he at the gym? Is he with his parents?

Focus, Jordan, come on.The window gives me a view of the park across the street, where ice-capped trees sway in the wind. Children are playing beneath the branches in their brightly colored snowsuits, collapsing into the snowdrifts to make snow angels. Some day, I’ll spend snow days with children of my own, watching them dance around in the snow until they fall down, exhausted. Then bring them home to warm up by the fire.I bet Tyson would be a good dad.

I sit upright, startled by my own thoughts. Fromhooking uptohaving children?Something is seriously wrong with me. But, hewasmy first.

I scribble down a possible diagnosis for the symptoms listed in the sample exam, only half-sure I’ve gotten them right, but enough to at least have something on the page.Someproof that my brain does still work, and that I can still think about things other than a stupid man.

I get up and pour myself a glass of water, filling the cup with ice. Maybe some cold water will shock some sense into me. But it doesn’t. Nothing I do lets me focus on agraphia and amygdala while my body is craving Tyson. Thoughts of his touch, his voice, his laugh. All invade my brain. God, I miss him.

Sometimes, willpower is not enough. I pick up my phone, and before I can overthink it any more than I already have, type out a text to Tyson.

Me:Are you around?

I put my phone down. I am not going to stare at it waiting for the three dots that mean he’s responding to pop up, as if I don’t have anything better to do. I pick up my pen and turn to the next question. I doodle a skyline in the margin of the paper and jump when my phone vibrates, snatching it so quickly it slides from my hand and clatters to the floor. Thankfully, the screen doesn’t crack.

Tyson:Yes. Just got home. What’s up?

It’s impossible to gauge tone over text, I know, but he seems irritated. Can I blame him for being upset with me? All I do is pull him closer and then push him away. Still, he answered, so he does want to talk. I chew my lower lip before answering, typing out, and deleting responses until I find one that doesn’t sound too desperate.

Me:Want to come over for dinner? I’ve got a box of Mac and cheese with your name on it.

This time, he answers right away.

Tyson:I’ll pick up dinner for us on the way. Save your Mac and cheese for the desperate situation it was made for. How’s 6 sound?

Me:Perfect! And don’t be rude, Mac and cheese can be spiced up in a variety of ways. Have you ever tried it with slices of hot dogs? Or bacon bits?

Tyson:No need for dinner now, I’ve completely lost my appetite. If I feed you enough real food will your tastebuds ever be able to overcome their conditioning?

Me:Sorry, you’re stuck with these tastebuds. You can feed me, though. Don’t forget dessert!

Tyson:I’m not sure you deserve it.

Me:My brain needs sugar. I’m learning about brains right now, and it says right here in bold that they need a lot of sugar. Would you deny my brain what it needs?

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