Best Served Fake

fifty-three // we're even

We had been good together, until we weren't. We might've stayed together, if he hadn't collapsed everything we'd had in one night.

"You remember it, don't you?" asked Tommy, his eyes trained on my face. "I can't stop remembering it. It's all I think about."

It was a chapter of my life long since closed, and he was the one forcing me to reread it over and over again. As if it was a favourite book from childhood that I'd outgrown, but that nostalgia had him reaching for over and over again, until the spine was a mess of creased and the pages yellowed with age.

Because I didn't want him anymore. I wanted a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed boy with confidence and charm in spades, who made me a better, more fun rendition of myself and filled my life with friends and laughter; friends who, unlike Tommy's, did not abandon me when we fell out.

"What did you say to Kai?" I asked. I didn't yell, or scream. The drum of my fingers on the counter was the only concession that I cared for his answer, and even that seemed like a thoughtless, casual habit to signal the passing of time.

Tommy looked taken aback. "What?"

"What. Did. You. Say. To. Him," I repeated slowly.

"I try not to speak to Kai Delaney at all, if I can help it," said Tommy, lightly. Then he grabbed my hand and looked at me with an earnestness that made me want to squirm in his grip. "C'mon, Ally. I don't want to talk about him."

I snatched my hand away. "Do you think I'm actually here for any other reason?"

Tommy's hand still lay in the space between us, but he withdrew it slowly when he saw the incredulous rage on my face. He clutched that hand to his own chest, as if he were a wounded animal who had not expected to be bitten. He adopted an air of haughty indignation. "If you wanted to talk about Delaney, I don't know why you'd come here. Since when have I ever had anything to do with him?"

"Since I know you said something to him."

Tommy's eyes flashed defiantly. "No. I didn't."

I shrugged and turned away from him. "Okay."

He grabbed my wrist as I tried to walk away and I let him. I wanted him to know that I had the upper hand; I was willing to walk away, to never speak to him again. But I also wanted him to know that I would stay, if he acquiesced to my demands. Firm, but willing to yield. Uncompromising at face value, but letting him think that, just maybe, if he played his cards right, there would be something for him to gain. So, I allowed him to guide me back, gently lead me to one of the bar stools and gesture for me to sit down. I obliged.

He took the seat opposite me, and took a moment to consider his words.

I decided to help him along. "You don't know what I know," I said. "If you decide to be dishonest with me at any point, I will leave. I won't come back, understand? I am here because Kai isn't speaking to me, and I know that it is your fault. Okay?"

Of course, I already knew what Tommy had done. Well, I knew that Tommy knew the truth, and that he'd spoken to Kai. I could guess the rest, but I wanted to hear it from him. To hear how thoroughly he wanted to betray me; and to know why. It just seems kind of stupid that you never found out why they hate each other. For fifteen, Sophie was remarkably astute. And just because I know longer suspected Kai of secret treachery, it didn't render the question inconsequential. That hatred had started this, had stoked Tommy's rage and prompted Kai's agreement in the first place.

How had I allowed them to omit its origins?

Tommy searched for any hint of weakness in my face, and found only iron sincerity. He sighed. "Fine. What do you want to know?"