Page 62 of My Best Friend's Bully

“Should we sit?” I gesture to the table, but Jordan shakes her head.

“Too formal. I don’t want to make things any more tense than they already are. Here,” she says, plopping down on the couch and putting her feet up. “Let’s sit on the couch. Relax.”

Cole sits down next to her, stiff as a robot, before I can. He looks at me with a challenge in his eyes, perched on the edge of the couch, still prepared to bolt for the elevator. In no mood to wedge myself in next to Cole, I sit down across from them in the armchair, instead.

“Let’s get this over with.” Cole takes a long drink from his glass.

Jordan takes a sip from her drink. “I think we should just start off with you two telling each other how you feel. Get it off your chests so we can move on from there and make some progress.” Her eyes flick back and forth between Cole and me.

“Sure, I’ll start—” I begin, but Cole cuts me off.

“No, I’ll go.” He’s halfway through his drink already and his voice is heated. “You’re an asshole, Ty. I don’t know what I ever did to you, but there’s no way it was bad enough for you to treat me the way you’ve been treating me.”

Jordan touches Cole’s arm lightly. He drops his eyes to the floor.

“Fuck off, Cole. Don’t act like you’re some innocent with no clue how we got here. Have you conveniently forgotten the way you used to lord all your achievements over me? The way you’d strut around the house like some little God? Or Prince?” I flex my hand around the glass, but what I want to do is throw it at Cole’s face.

“Strut?” Cole hops from the edge of the couch up onto his feet, but Jordan grabs him by the arm and pulls him back down.

“You heard me. You’re like a fucking peacock. Crowing about your accomplishments, rubbing them in my face.” If Jordan weren’t here right now, this would be getting much uglier.

“Look,” she says, her voice sharp. “You’re both hurt. That’s what I’m hearing. Maybe Tyson can tell you how he felt as a kid without all the vitriol.”

I take a long, deep breath and exhale through my nose until my nerves settle. “Fine.” I take a sip from my second drink, now almost empty. “When we were kids, it felt like nothing I ever did was good enough for Dad. Everything you did was ‘well done, Cole’, and ‘you’re amazing, Cole’, and ‘you’re so smart, Cole’.” I finish my drink and set the glass down on the table. “And you always had to rub it in, flaunting your trophies, and you’re A+ science fair projects, and your varsity letters.”

“But Tyson. I always wanted to help you–”

“Let him finish, Cole,” Jordan interrupts.

“That’s the point, Cole. You always had to show off by offering to ‘help’ me get better. Or faster. Or smarter… or whatever… And it made me so angry when Dad would tell me to let you help me. As if I wasn’t good enough as I was. It was like I was a black sheep, and all Dad wanted was for you to help me change. Only Mom ever loved me for who I was. Whenever you were around… especially when Dad was around… I felt… like… this small,” I hold up my hand, forming a tiny space between my thumb and index finger.

It all flows out in an unstoppable vomit. But once it’s out, once I’ve told Cole exactly how we got here, I do feel better.

Cole’s eyes widen. He sets his drink glass, now empty, down on the coffee table.

“That’s… Ty, that was not how I saw it.” He puts his hands on his temples and rubs circles there. “It’s not how I meant it. I loved you. I truly only wanted to help. I felt bad the way some of the kids in school treated you, when they always seemed to look up to me. I never meant for you to think I was better in any way, I just wanted you to know that if I could do it, so could you. Jesus, no wonder you hate me. You really thought I was just rubbing it in your face?”

I nod. My throat as dry as the desert. “It felt that way, yeah. I hated you for it. And Dad, too.”

Cole winces. “Seriously, man, that’s not what it was like from my side. I’m sorry, like really sorry, that I made you feel that way.”

“Even now it feels like I’m constantly being compared to and judged against you. Compared to the perfect son and still coming up short. Dad knows I built a successful multi-billion dollar software company from scratch, and not once has he even said ‘good job, son. Congratulations’. It’s water under the bridge now,” I say.

“Don’t brush it off, Tyson.” Jordan shakes her head. “Cole is apologizing. He says he never meant it the way it seemed. Do you believe him?”

It’s not easy to wash away the effects from years of ingrained inadequacy, even if it was a misunderstanding. But Jordan has a good point. I’ve come a long way since those days, and I know I am far from inadequate today. I don’t need Cole’s approval, or Dad’s anymore. The business needs me, and the people love me. At least the people who matter. We’re way past that, and we’re never going to get through this if I can’t own it.

“I forgive you, Cole. When I left home to do my own thing, it was because I had to get out from your shadow. I couldn’t stand listening to Dad any longer. And I’ve been good ever since. Business is great, and I’ve been really happy. But when I saw you and Dad at the hospital, it was like the clock spun backwards ten years in that instant and all the feelings from when we were kids overwhelmed me. One minute I’m top dog, tough successful CEO that any father would be proud of, the next minute I felt tiny again. It scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Tyson.” A tear peeks from the corner of Cole’s eye.

“I felt so weak compared to you that I had to show you I was strong enough now to take you on,” I continue. “It was wrong of me. I know that, now. And I really do apologize, Cole. Can you ever forgive me for being such an asshole?”

Cole looks up at me, something like a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he rubs the tear from his eye. “Yeah, I think I can.”

Chapter 31

Tyson

---