Best Served Fake

thirty-eight // faked her own death

"I'm fine," I said, in a high-pitched voice that emphasised just how fine I was. Which was very, deeply fine. So fine. Fine.

The second round of buzzing cut out with a decisive final beep, falling silent in Mum's hand as I eyed the bottle of wine still half-full on the table. Mum—the absolute darling—didn't even bother refilling the wine glass. She slid the bottle across the table to me, and I unscrewed the cap and chugged as much as I could handle. When I came up for air, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, Mum looked equal parts disappointed and impressed.

Without the phone ringing it's ticking time bomb of stress, I felt calmer. The wine probably also helped.

Mum stole the bottle from me, shrugging before taking a pull straight from the neck. She replaced the empty spot in my hand with my phone, which had gone blissfully silent. "You don't have to answer her calls, darling. You can block her again if you need to."

"No," I said grumpily. "She'd just call me on Instagram or Messenger, and I still want to angry stalk her photos."

"That's healthy."

"I just like seeing that her life without me is sad and way less fun, while I post cool, hot pictures with my cool, hot friends."

"I'm so glad I've raised you to be so emotionally mature."

I felt emotionally mature; no matter what my issues were, at least I didn't have to fuck my friend's boyfriend about it. But that was when it happened.

SYDNEY THE BACKSTABBING BITCH: hey, can u give me a ring back? need to talk quickly

I turned panicked eyes toward my mother. "She asked me to call her back! Said she needs to talk."

"Well, she did call you. I'm assuming that wasn't so she could screech at you like a pterodactyl down the line and then hang up," Mum said, unhelpfully. Then she grinned. "You should call her back and do that though. Always keep your enemies on their toes."

"You're so fucking weird," I said fondly. Shockingly, I did not take her advice. Instead, I climbed the stairs to my room, ignoring Mum's increasingly giggly suggestions of different animal noises I could make down the line every time she tried to ring back—Friday night equalled wine drunk for my mother, and really, I was halfway to tipsy myself—and collapsed on my bed.

hey, can u give me a ring back? need to talk quickly.

Like, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Sydney and I had been the kind of friends constantly in touch. I'd always had a best friend, and it was the steadfast, know-every-single-thought-you-had sort of friends. Even now, despite all the people in my life I loved—Cora and Madi and Jameson and Isabelle, Will and Seb and Cole and, more than anyone else, Kai—I still felt the loss of someone who knew me so well. I didn't think I'd ever have that brand of friendship again, and I was at peace with that.

But because Sydney knew me, she knew exactly how I would be reacting right now. Knew the strings in my heart she was tugging, a marionette on tenterhooks, desperate for that quick talk as much as I was desperate to cut her from my life forever.

That heinous bitch.

Me: is a close family member dead?

SYDNEY THE BACKSTABBING BITCH: nope, but i was actually just stabbed. bleeding out and everything.

Me: oh, that's ok. hope u have fun with that xx

SYDNEY THE BACKSTABBING BITCH: harsh. there's a massive hole in my left kidney

Me: call tommy. heard he was good at filling in your holes xxx

SYDNEY THE BACKSTABBING BITCH: not that good, really. u would know.