Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.15

He beats me to it.

"Look, Mav—," he stops, looks down as if struggling to come up with what to say, "I'm sorry. I said some really fucked up things to you. It's okay if you're still mad. I would be too if I were you."

Is this...an apology? What should I say? Rhys looks like he's bracing himself. Am I ready to forgive him? Am I willing to move past everything that's happened? A small part of me wants to reject this, to hurt him like he hurt me. But the larger, more prominent part of me misses my best friend too much to even bother with revenge.

"It's okay," I say, a smile escaping with it. Rhys sighs in relief, running a hand through his hair with a wide smile.

"Okay, so, we're good?" Rhys asks. I nod.

"Yeah, we're good."

***

"Wait, so you still like girls?" Rhys asks through a mouthful of popcorn, staring at the TV.

I roll my eyes. Once we moved past the fight, Rhys had a million questions. It's slightly annoying, but I'd take a million questions over even one insult. "Yes, I do."

"So you still like Lauren, right?" he asks. I glance over at him. His eyes are trained on the screen but I can sense he's still very tuned into the conversation, waiting for my answer.

His testing tone can only mean one thing: he hasn't quite accepted that I like boys, but as long as I like girls, it's okay.

So what would happen if I tell him the truth? That Lauren doesn't cut it for me anymore? That there is someone else always on my mind?

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound like I mean it.

"You guys hooked up at the party," Rhys says, and it's not a question.

"You and Beverly hooked up too," I counter. And it's not a question either.

The muscles around Rhys's mouth tighten. He doesn't answer, and soon a heavy blanket of silence falls over us, with just the voices from the television making any noise.

"What time is it?" I ask, just to say something. Rhys looks at his phone gratefully.

"Almost 4 p.m."

His phone vibrates, and I swear I see the name Beverly on the text. Rhys clicks on it with furrowed brows.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Beverly," he says. My eyebrows raise unwillingly. I wasn't expecting him to tell the truth.

"What did she say?" I ask, not wanting to pry but desperate to know what she said at the same time. Rhys stares at the text with a frown. Did she break up with him?

"She wants..." Rhys trails off, rubbing distressingly at his eyes, "she wants me to come over to her house."

"Oh." Oh. Way off. Way the fuck off. This is the opposite of a breakup. This is sealing the deal. Going all the way.

"Yeah." Rhys sighs softly. "I don't really..."

"You don't want to go?" I ask quickly, too quick. Rhys chews his bottom lip pensively.

"I should go. Yeah, I'm gonna go. I can't not go," Rhys says. He glances up at me and then back at his phone. "I mean, what would it look like if I didn't go?"

I don't answer. Is it because I have no idea what he means? Or because I know all too well what he means and it terrifies me?

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Rhys asks. He quickly types something on his phone. Probably replying to her text. It doesn't matter. He's chosen. He's made up his mind.

"Nah, I can just call my parents. One of them can pick me up. Or I can ask for money for an Uber," I say. Rhys nods his head absentmindedly.

"Okay, then I'll see you Monday," Rhys says, standing up. I stand up with him. We share brief, awkward eye contact before he looks away.

"I'm gonna call my mom," I say, but I make no move to get my phone out.

"I'm gonna get ready," Rhys says, motioning to the stairs, but he doesn't start walking away. We both stay still, staring at the ground or the walls, but not each other, never each other, because that would be admitting something neither of us is ready to give up yet.

"I'm glad—," I start, speaking to the ground, "it's good to have my best friend back." My face is heating up. I look up and Rhys's eyes have gone wide and round. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Shit, I definitely shouldn't have said that.

"Me too," Rhys says, finally, and I feel lighter than air. Because this is how I should've felt when I first confessed to him. This is what I've been waiting for. Acceptance. And it feels better than it should, coming from Rhys.

Once my mom confirms that she's on her way, Rhys changes and heads out to his Range Rover. Having nothing better to do, I watch him from the front window of the house. He leans over towards the passenger seat, moving something around I can't see. His hair falls forward, and from my angle, the setting sun hits from behind and forms a halo around Rhys's hair.

He looks up towards the house, squints. Shit. I drop the curtain, letting it slide back in place as I hide behind the wall.

An engine starts, and I hear the car drive away, whisking Rhys away along with it.