A request for some more jealous vibes, this time on Taylor's end.
"Why can't you just admit it?"
"Admit what?"
"The fucking truth, Tay. Look, don't test me. I'll pour your ass another glass of wine and you'll have to spill. I've known you too damn long for you not to be honest."
I sigh, deeply. Probably slightly exaggerating, to be sure, but it gets the point across to Selena who's eyeing me with a strange expression.
"What?"
"Don't play innocent. It's just us here. No paps, nobody listening in...just you and me. So go ahead. Tell me how that interview made you feel."
I know exactly what she's getting at now and I fight the incomparable urge to toss one of the throw pillows at her.
She seems to sense my intentions because immediately, she picks up Olivia, holding her directly in front of her chest like a shield.
"You would never."
I tip back my glass, absolutely gunning the rest of my wine. "You're so not playing fair."
Selena smirks, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. "Didn't promise to."
It was more than apparent she wasn't about to let the evening end without a "confession," so I indulge her.
"If you're asking me if I'm jealous, the obvious answer is no. I don't get jealous and you know that. And more importantly, what would be the point? Travis isn't with her, it was awhile ago and what's past is in the past. Is he supposed to get all up in arms about everyone I've ever dated? The media's already ready to have me throwing down when it couldn't be further from reality."
I'm slightly wounded at her insinuation. She knows me better than that, but Selena never says anything without the utmost purest of intentions behind it, so I relax, tell myself she's only concerned because she cares so much.
"But the things she says about him...how he cheated on her with Kayla, how he's a narcissist. Doesn't that bother you?"
I see where she's coming from, the concern, and all the sharpness leaves my thoughts. "No. Because it's not true. Do I think she's making waves just to make waves, one hundred percent. That's not the Travis I know. I can't listen to what other people say when I know in my heart what the truth is. We've had long talks about it...I know all there is about his past relationships and he knows about mine. That's really all there is to it."
If he had believed every single thing he'd ever heard or read about me, I'm fairly sure he would've run...not passed go, not collected his $200. Neither one of us subscribed to useless gossip, not when we knew the other person's truth.
"And I'm more than happy to hear that, Taylor. I hope for your sake, it's just her own spitefulness. But you're also forgetting that I understand how this brain," she points, "and this heart works. You don't have to come out and directly call those feelings jealously. That's probably not a great term... inadequacy. You're feeling kind of insecure and yeah, it's crazy, because well, you're Taylor fucking Swift, but I know it's true."
I hate when my best friend gets wine drunk and tries to psychoanalyze me. I'd much rather her get the munchies at 1 am and decide it's a great idea to make pasta from scratch or something, but here we are.
"I don't think this is applicable to anything right now, honestly. You know how much I love you, but let's just...drink and relax."
She knows she's hit a nerve and usually, she'll back down. Tonight, though, there's a weird fire lit under her and she sits, cross legged on the sofa, her chin in her hands.
