Into the Stars (USC Series Book #2)

chapter four

"I am sorry..." I blurt out another sudden thought for the second time within the span of two minutes. "I am really sorry."

Tears well up in my eyes and I think back to all my mistakes in the past months. It feels so stupid, but I have been such a shitty friend, and it's all because I let some stupid cheating boy control my life. No one should have that control over anyone. No one. I cannot believe I was so blindsided to not see that.

Before any tears can fall down my face, Brooklynn wraps her arms around me, pulling my head into her chest. And that is when the first tear falls. And they don't stop. This is so dumb.

Lady days must be on their way.

"I am so fucking sorry for letting a dumb asshole impede our friendship. I have been the worst friend to you. And when you have been going through absolute hell, no less," I speak into her chest, all my words being slightly muffled by her body and the silent tears running down my face.

"You can't take all the fall," Brooklynn soothes, rubbing a hand down the back of my head as I cry. "I haven't been the best friend to you either."

Quickly, I shake my head, not wanting to hear her take the blame for what I let Ben do to me. After a few minutes, I raise my head from her chest instead, letting it rest in her lap. My tears have subsided and now we sit in silence. The only sound is the steady rises and falls of our breathing.

"How have you been?" My voice is hoarse when I suddenly speak in a hushed tone. I haven't checked in on Brooklynn in so long, and it worsens my mood. If I recall, one of the last times I asked her how she was doing was after she returned from New York after her father's funeral, and a few days after that.

I feel her body move as she shrugs. "I'm fine. Things have been easier now and whenever things get hard, Aidan is always there. He asks me about a thousand times a day how I am doing and how I am feeling, but I know he worries."

Aidan is Brooklynn's boyfriend and they are literally the epitome of anyone's ideal relationship. Aidan practically praises the ground Brooklynn walks on and they are attached at the hip almost all the time because of how utterly obsessed they are with each other.

"Are you sure?" I ask, knowing that 'I'm fine' is a typical answer for when you aren't.

"Yeah, I think so," she assures. "Some days are harder than others. I'll be okay for a few days, but then it hits me again. I stop functioning and everything falls apart. Those days are becoming more sparse, but they still hit. I miss him, but I know he wouldn't want us to mourn his death. He would want us to keep on living like he is watching over us."

Her father. Almost two months ago, Brooklynn lost her dad to cancer. It was a tough time all around. She was mourning the loss of her dad with a broken heart while her birthday and Christmas approached.

Meanwhile, I was stuck in a Ben-bubble, with growing suspicions about his infidelity.

"I have something I haven't told you. Something I have told no one, for that matter," I whisper, hoping she didn't hear me but also hoping she did.

"What is it?" Brooklynn asks, withholding any sense of eagerness she might feel right now.

Taking a deep breath in, I prepare to share one part of my life I haven't shared with anyone. I keep this to myself or talk to my mother about it, but I feel like Brooklynn deserves to be the first person to hear this.

"I lost my dad, as well. Sophomore year, he died. It was sudden but... I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even tell Ben, who seemed to be the fixation of my attention at the time."

Brooklynn's hand returns to my hair and begins twisting some loose strands. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

I shrug as best as I can from her lap. "Not entirely sure. I guess I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. I didn't want to feel any sympathy from others. So instead, I suffered in silence. I limited myself to only crying when I was alone, though the time I had to myself was infrequent. It somehow allowed me to believe that he wasn't gone. So many things left for distractions from the fact that many others were mourning his death while his daughter was pretending it never even happened.