My eyes glazed over, rising from Holly's Facebook page to stare directly ahead at the closed closet door.
"What's there to say?"
I felt James' weight shift as he leaned back on his palms, an amused edge to his careful tone. "Well, for one, who taught you to punch like that?"
I shrugged, my gaze locked on the door. "Eli."
James sprung forward, lurching off the bedhead to try and meet my eye line. "No!" He released a low whistle, raising his eyebrows incredulously. "Breaking a man's nose with his own technique—"
"I didn't break it. I didn't even mean to hurt him. I just ... forgot that I was wearing the ring."
"Mhm."
I felt his eyes piercing me through the back of my skull, sensed that some part of him saw right through some part of me. I'd thought that my words were true, but whether it was because of his playful inference or that intense stare, a small smile was creeping over my lips. "Maybe I knew how to get the blood going. He hates blood."
James tittered again. "You're a little psychotic, you know that?"
"Only a little?"
He chuckled softly. I fought off my own laugh, leaning into the silence that enveloped us—lighter and cozier than it had been before.
Maybe talking about what happened didn't have to be triggering.
"Did you really date that jerk-off?"
Just like that, my illusion of comfort shattered like glass. I turned to face James, who looked unusually coy, my mouth parted and nose scrunched as a result of his insult.
But I wasn't quite sure whether I was offended or amused.
"I did."
He hummed something to himself, his eyes flittering between mine before looking down to wander about aimlessly on his phone. "For how long?"
His tone was casual. Light. Yet it was laced with elusive intrigue.
"Since seventh grade."
He seemed to find something interesting tucked into that revelation. Whatever it was, he didn't say. He only furrowed his brow for a second, then cleared his throat, softening his expression. "That's a long time."
I didn't really know what to say to that. I had more memories with Elijah than I had without him. He'd been a part of almost every significant event of my life up until that point, just like I'd been a part of every one of his. 'Long' was an understatement. 'Long' didn't seem an adequate enough adjective to describe the time that we'd spent together, the things that we'd experienced and shared.
So I just nodded.
James lay down on his side, propping his head on his hand to gaze up at me through his blond locks. "Too long for it to have been a petty fight that broke you up. Was it the whole distance thing?"
I swallowed. Hard. "No."
The word was final. Definitive. And, by the look on his face, James thought it was all he'd get. He accepted that, dropping his eyes to the quilt below us and running a finger along its intricate pattern.
But I found myself speaking again.
"I was willing to do it," I mumbled, still scrolling around on Holly's Facebook with my clumsy left hand, albeit aimlessly now. "Long-distance. I don't really see how distance counts as much of an excuse anymore, what with phones and social media and Facetime. You can be with someone, be right in their pocket, even if you're oceans apart."
Through the glass of his laptop, I could see James peering up at me sheepishly. He was conflicted, it seemed, between his curiosity and his civility. He wanted to know more. Clearly—I'd somehow mustered enough strength to punch a six-foot guy square in the nose, after all. But I could also see that he didn't want to push me further than I was willing to go.
"Then again," I reasoned slowly, my words turning bitter and dry. "It wouldn't be enough for Eli even if I was right in his pocket. It certainly wasn't enough that I was with him six out of seven days a week. He needed more."
"More?"
"I think you can guess."
He bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, as though he were contemplating whether to utter the words that danced on his tongue.
"You said that you were always his," he said hesitantly, "but that he wasn't just yours."
The words, though my own, stabbed me in the chest. God, to hear them out loud like that—being said to me rather than by me—stole the breath right from my lungs, leaving me with only panic.
I turned my head away from his reflection completely, studying the wall on the other side of his bed. The plaster was peeling in the corners, revealing rows of exposed brick underneath. I could tell that they'd been there for years—they were weathered and dull, with cracks and holes decorating their facade like scars on a face. Like punctures to the heart.
"Elijah wasn't faithful," James guessed.
I scoffed. Faithful. The word itself was laughable. It inferred honesty and trust and loyalty. Three things that Eli had taken and ripped to shreds until they were only words that existed without meaning.
"I told you that we started dating in seventh," I said, still tracing the cracks on the exposed brick. "He was sleeping with Lola by eighth."
"Lola?"
Nausea pricked at my insides. It often did when the pretentiously beautiful face of Lola Sinclair crept into my mind. Her high, striking cheekbones and full cover girl lips. Her silver-blonde hair and hooded green eyes that could bring the burliest of men to their knees. I knew that face almost as well as I knew my own.
"I met her in kindergarten. Our mothers took a liking to one another, so we were practically forced into being BFFs. We were always at each other's houses having slumber parties and putting on fashion shows. She was like my sister."
"Christ, Madison—"
I turned further away from the sound of his voice as he sat upright. I didn't want to hear what he had to say. How terrible it was, how painful it must be to have been betrayed by the two people in the world that I trusted with the deepest parts of my heart and soul. I already knew how painful it was. I lived it every day.
"I always thought that I was lucky. To have a best friend and a boyfriend who got along as well as Lola and Eli did." I shook my head, failing to embellish my voice with the kind of indifference that I'd been going for. Instead, it sounded strained. Tired. "They weren't just acquaintances, they were friends. They even planned my eighteenth birthday party together."
Images of the evening flashed behind my eyelids. Me in my sparkling black dress, Lola in her satin red one, Eli in his sleek suit and dashing blue tie.
A bitter smile twisted my lips. "We ran out of drinks during the party, and they offered to go get some more so that I could stay and enjoy myself. I told them to take my car. It was brand new, I hadn't even driven it myself. They were gone for a while. Maybe an hour or two. They said it was because nowhere was selling to them ..."
Another image popped into my mind. Eli handing me back my keys, placing the new drinks on the kitchen counter. His tie loose around his neck, his hair mussed. Windswept, I'd thought.
"But now..." I shook my head, gathering my splintered strength. "Now, whenever I think back to that night, all I can think about is how they were probably just screwing each other all over my car that whole fucking time."
My breath caught in my throat. It sat there in a lump, a ball of unacknowledged grief that I kept pushing further and further down every time that it threatened to erupt.
"And it's not just the betrayal," I murmured, feeling the lump grow bigger the more that I fought it, the more that I tried to swallow it away. "I feel stupid. So, so stupid that I didn't see it—"
I don't know whether James heard the last words that spilled from my lips. Because when they did, they were buried within an ocean of tears. My throat burned from holding them back for so long, the backlogged faucet drowning me in a sea of unrelenting shame.
I brought my knees to my chest and burrowed my head in the darkness, trying to escape the waves of vulnerability crashing and clambering in my chest. I wanted to push away the unbridled pain that gnawed at my insides, that threatened to rip me apart bit by bit. But it was a current far too strong to resist when I was so, so weak.
I hadn't told anyone about Eli and Lola. I certainly hadn't allowed myself to cry over them. Doing either would make what happened between them real, too real for me to bear on top of everything else that had fractured my heart.
Another wave rushed over me, a tide that was comparatively serene. It wasn't a wave of my own never-ending storm, but a wave of dawn which brought with it cool, comforting waters.
James had taken me in his arms, cradling me as though I was an injured seabird that had washed ashore. My cries were hollow and desperate against his chest, pouring out from the deepest parts of my soul.
His mouth found my ear, his tone firm but kind. "You're not stupid, Madison."
His hand combed through my tangled mane of hair, searching deeper and deeper until he found me buried underneath. He placed a gentle hand on the side of my cheek, angling my face towards his so that his words brushed against my lips.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his breath cool and sobering on my skin.
Our room fell silent without my shallow, frantic breathing to fill it. So quiet that I could hear music raging on from a room down the hall. I heard the sounds and distant singing of the people inside. People who were happy and carefree. Who were full of love and light.
What the hell did I have to do to get that feeling back?
James was still holding me when my mind drifted back to his room. There was barely an inch between us, the heat of his body calming the shivers running through mine. Our proximity emphasized the buckling intensity of his stare, awakening my anxiety all over again. It wasn't caused by the memory of Elijah that time, but by the feeling of being vulnerable. Of being exposed. Of being judged.
The girl who was cheated on. Over and over again.
Why did I tell him that?
I painted my mouth in a soft smile. I didn't know how convincing it was. I shifted my weight away from him, and he took it as a signal to retrieve his arms from around me. Strangely, though, the absence of his warm touch made me feel even more stifled.
I brushed off his apology, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It's alright."
"No." James shook his head. Even in the relative darkness, without any light bar that from the small lamp on his bedside table, his eyes sparkled like crystals. Like the Pacific Ocean itself. They swam with sincerity when he said, "It's not alright, Madison. What he did to you... he's an ass. A fool. Because any guy who would do that to a girl like you has to be."
His words were only a whisper. A quiet breath that lingered in the air between us. Yet their impact was strong, causing a strange feeling to blossom in the base of my stomach.
A girl like you.
What did he mean?
"What do you—"
My voice mingled with James' ringtone as his phone buzzed itself off the bed. He jumped to retrieve it, the quilt beside me still crumpled with the memory of his presence.
"Hey, Dex," James greeted, putting his phone on speaker. He was only sitting on the other side of the bed, but those centimeters suddenly felt like too much. "We decided to—"
"My AirPods fell into my drink!" Dex cried.
In perfect unison, almost as though we had planned it, both James and I pressed a hand to our mouths to stop ourselves from doubling over with laughter.
"Dex, no!" I screeched when I was sure that I could speak steadily. "Did Holly notice?"
Dex sighed. "No, thank God. Her and Mila were excusing themselves, and I was trying to play around with the sound when..." He trailed off, and I could almost picture him covering his face with his hands. "God, I'm such an idiot. Why does stuff like this happen to me?"
James shook his head fondly. "Hey man, how's it all going? You know, since you dropped us in your soda?"
"It's fine, I just ... Oh, shoot. Shoot. I gotta go—"
Before Dex had even finished his sentence, the line went dead.
James sighed helplessly, throwing his phone on his nightstand with a shrug. "Well, I guess that's it. The kid's on his own. It's probably good for him, anyway."
Good for him, maybe. Not great for me. Not great for my assignment...
My assignment, I remembered. My hypothesis. And, then, My resolutions.
Work out.
Internship.
Stay away from men.
James started to slide back over to me. "Sorry about that. Where were we—"
"We should probably get some work done."
His grin faltered, his eyes flashing with confusion. I tore my gaze from his, moving to the end of the bed and taking the laptop with me.
My moment of vulnerability was over. And distanced from it, I suddenly felt awkward. Weak. And, yes—stupid.
James didn't care about my petty problems. I was sure that he had a bucket full of his own. We were only together that night because of Dex. For Dex. Not for me, not for Elijah. Dex.
"Okay." James hesitated for a second longer before retreating to the top of the bed. He picked up his phone. "Sure."
A surge of something a lot like disappointment lanced through me. Strange. We'd been sitting exactly like that before my breakdown, and yet ... It felt different now. Because I'd cried? Or because he'd wiped my tears when I did?
I shook my head. It didn't matter.
The time that I spent with James wasn't about me, and I needed to stop wallowing. Or, at least, stop forcing him to wallow with me.
Hi lovely readers!
So, that was a rollercoaster.
Not that we know a little more about what happened between Eli and Madi, what are your thoughts? Does it line up with your theories?
Does it shed light on her philosophies about love, men, and friendship?
What are your predictions going forward? 🤔
With love,
Danielle