by Sam Ledel
I frown and take a sip. “Jealous? Emily’s not the type. Besides, she’s happy with Alex. What’s there to be jealous about?”
Jax shrugs, her eyes wandering to her cell phone on the coffee table in front of us. “Some people are like that. You know, when two friends are close for years and one of them meets somebody new and starts spending more time with that other person, the friend left behind just freaks out.” Her eyes are wide as she speaks and takes another swallow from her beer. “Emily is used to having you around. Now that she doesn’t, she’s losing it. She wants you to herself.”
I frown over the top of my beer. “That doesn’t really sound like Emily, though.” I mull Jax’s words over in my head. Emily has never been the type to monopolize anyone’s time. And sure, I’m her best friend, but I am definitely not her only friend. Not by far. If anything, she spent most of last year encouraging me to meet new people.
“That’s the funny thing about people,” Jax says, nodding. “You never really know them. Even if you think you do.”
I take another gulp, the bitter liquid sliding easily down my throat. My conversation with Emily reverberates in my mind. Her claims that I hardly know Jax sting behind my eyes. Yes, she was probably just being a concerned friend, but it still had hurt.
“Maybe she just needs to spend more time with you,” I wonder aloud. Jax’s eyebrow raises. “With us,” I add quickly. “She probably just wants to know more about you. Like…how many siblings do you have?”
Jax laughs and throws back the final drops of her beer. “That’s what she wants to know?” She gets up to toss the can into the trash, then grabs another from the fridge.
I watch her wander back over to the couch and shrug. “Well,” I say, “I don’t even know the answer to that.”
Jax opens her drink and takes a sip. She’s watching me over the top of it as if she’s considering what she wants to say. “One brother. But he’s seven years older. He’s married to a woman he met on a business trip. He sells tubing parts to companies. They live in Tennessee together. I don’t see him much.” She looks down for a second, then clears her throat and sets the beer can on the coffee table. She sits back with one arm up on the couch. “Happy now?”
I can’t help from blurting out another question. “What about your parents, do you get along with them?”
“Sure,” she says, crossing her legs so that her left foot can bounce the way it does, I’ve noticed, when she’s in a conversation. “As much as any college kid does, I guess. Not much else to say.”
“Are they the ones who wanted you to be pre-med?”
She nods. “Since my brother was kind of a drifter from the get-go, I guess the pressure to follow in their footsteps fell to me. Not like they were around much to show me how to do it.” I nod, the lack of a parental presence all too familiar, and she continues. “I was mostly raised by my grandmother, till I was, like, fifteen or so. She lived near my parents, so it was just easier with them working so much, you know?”
“How was that, being brought up by your grandmother?”
“It wasn’t half bad. Thanks to her, I can name every movie starring Cary Grant or Debbie Reynolds.”
I look down into the opening of my beer. I must sound ridiculous, having all these questions lined up for her. “Thanks…for sharing all of that. I, well…Emily just thought maybe you and I didn’t talk enough. That maybe we spent too much time…”
“Not talking?” Jax grins. She reaches out, two fingers creeping up my leg toward my waist.
I wriggle beneath her touch and fight the urge to lean toward her. “She’s a concerned friend. She wants to make sure I’m with somebody—”
“Who makes you feel good?” Jax finishes, her fingers completing their trek at my hipbone, where she rubs against me for a few seconds. I let out a sigh, and she leans back, a satisfied glint in her eye.
“She’s just being Emily. I’m sure T. is the same way whenever you start dating somebody and she does the overprotective best friend thing.” I pitch up my voice before continuing, mimicking Emily with a shake of my finger, “Mira, you better bring home a girl who treats you right!”
Jax’s demeanor changes then, like a troupe of clouds has just rushed into the room and settled over her face. She sets her beer next to her phone on the coffee table. She eyes it, then picks it up. Her phone is in her lap when she slowly says, “So…she thinks I’m not good enough for you?”
Her sudden shift in mood throws me. “What?”
“Is that what you think, too, Kyle? That I’m not good enough for you? Is that why you feel like you need to ask me so many questions all of a sudden?”
The blood drains from my face. What is happening? “Jax, that’s not what I said. That’s not what I said at all.”
“Well, it sure sounded like it. I mean, gee, Kyle, why don’t we just call up your good pal Em and invite her over. She’s clearly the one feeding you all of these lines.”
“No,” I reply quickly, my ears hot. “Jax, she hasn’t said anything about you.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” She sits up and takes another drink before setting the can back down. Her voice is raised when she wipes her mouth and says, “Come on! Let’s get her over here. She can transcribe the whole thing.”
“Jax.”
“What? It’ll save a lot of time. You won’t have to report back to Captain Emily and give her the play-by-play.”
“That’s not fair.”
She’s typing something into her phone now, her gaze down at the screen. “Well, if you think I’m not good enough for you, Kyle, maybe we should take a break.”
“Jax, no.” How did this conversation turn into this? I move next to her. Part of me wants to throw her phone across the room so that she’ll listen to me. Fortunately, the rational side of me wins out, and I reach out to touch her wrist. “I didn’t mean any of it like that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m just trying to get to know you. Emily just wants to make sure I’m happy. Okay?” I reach up and tug her chin forward to look at me. “Hey, Jax, please.”
Her blue eyes are clear when they meet mine. Her voice is as vulnerable as I’ve ever heard it when she says, “I just want us to be happy, Kyle. Don’t I make you happy?”
“God, yes, Jax. You make me so happy.” I’m kissing her then, hard, and passionate. Tears well in the corners of my eyes. Jax puts the phone down onto the couch and grabs my face, returning my kiss.
Eventually, I pull back, breathless. My mind races as I look at her. I never imagined dating anybody like Jax. What was I thinking, bringing that up to her? Of course she got defensive. What kind of girlfriend says what I said to her?
“I’m new to this whole dating thing,” I say. “And I’ll talk to Emily. I’ll tell her that she has nothing to worry about. You and I are great.” I run a hand over her face, cupping her cheek in my palm.
And just like that, the clouds vanish.
“Thanks, babe. I think it’ll help to hear it coming from you.”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
Jax places the phone back onto the coffee table, then pushes me back onto the couch. “Tell me,” she whispers, “why are you so good to me?”
I kiss her briefly, then pull back. “That sounds like one of your grandmother’s movies.”
“Cary Grant in North by Northwest.”
I chuckle and she kisses me again. Then, as quickly as it began, our conversation fades into the back of my mind. Jax is right; she always is.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The open-air patio outside TJs is heavy with the smell of grilled vegetables, and the sharp sizzle coming from the waiter’s tray nearby makes my stomach rumble. Jax and I sit with a few teammates at the hole-in-the-wall Mexican place a few blocks from campus. The breeze kicks up a napkin from our table of six. T. grabs her half-empty margarita and clamps it down on the runaway napkin. She sits across from me and Jax, who sits with one arm up the back of my plastic chair. I wrap my hand around my margarita,
the bright liquid running up and over one side of the glass as I do so, and bring it to my lips.
“Pretty delicious, aren’t they?” Haley motions to me from the other side of the table next to T. The cold drink takes some of the salt with it as it passes my lips and slides down my throat. I remember the first time Jax bought me one; I had cringed at the smell of tequila. Funny how things change.
I nod to Haley, and Jax answers for me. “She’s a natural.”
“So is this one.” Haley nods toward T. before dipping a tortilla chip into our shared bowl of salsa. T. downs the remnants of her drink, slapping the glass back down onto the table.
“Hey, it’s not alcoholism until after graduation.” We all laugh as the waiter comes around collecting our empty glasses. Mary hands hers to the young man, but Elaine—a new freshman from Michigan—keeps hers close and doesn’t make eye contact. When the waiter heads back into the restaurant, Jax nudges Elaine’s shoulder.
“Relax, Frosh, you’re good.”
Elaine grimaces, lifting the drink to her lips carefully. Watching her, I can’t help but think about first meeting Elaine two weeks ago at the beginning of August. I hadn’t imagined her as the type to go out drinking on weekends, especially underage with a fake ID. She’s not even close to being twenty-one. But for whatever reason, she really took to T., and T. is not one to turn down a drinking buddy.
The waiter comes back with two margaritas, placing one by T. and the other in front of Haley, who finishes the last of hers.
Suddenly, Jax whispers into my ear. “How about you? Another?” Her hand snakes down my thigh. The alcohol warms my face when she kisses my ear.
“I still have half of mine,” I manage to say, and take another gulp. The warm buzz of the liquor begins to swim in my head. Jax’s fingers dance along the bottom of my shorts and I feel light-headed.
“So that’s a yes.” She grins and signals for another drink to the waiter.
“I think somebody’s trying to get you drunk.” T. leers gleefully, her own drink toasting us. She winks at me. I blush.
“You know what, I think I’m gonna run to the restroom,” I say, pushing out of my seat. I sway a little and close my eyes for a second to regain my step. Two margaritas in, and I’m already feeling it. Better to go freshen up before the third one gets here. I smile, imagining this is just what Jax had in mind. The image of another Sunday tangled up in her sheets makes me float through the restaurant.
I stumble a little when I exit the bathroom stall and walk to the small black counter. I grab hold of it and glance up into the mirror, adjusting the stray hairs that have come untucked from my ponytail. There are small bags under my eyes, but I brush it off as evidence of a busy soccer schedule and never-ending studying now that the semester has started. When the bathroom door opens as I turn to leave, I almost run right into Emily.
She stops once she’s inside the door. I straighten up as best I can. At the same time, the buzzing in my mind decides to up the volume a notch. Emily lifts her head a little higher, then crosses her arms, which bunches the coral green sleeves of her sweater at the elbows. “Hi, Kyle.”
“Hey.”
“I, um, I didn’t realize you were here.” She adjusts her glasses quickly, then resumes her stance.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m here with some of the girls. And Jax.” Emily stiffens for a moment at Jax’s name. She nods but doesn’t say anything. So I continue. “Are you here with Alex?”
“I am. And a few of the people from my PR class.”
“Good.”
Silence falls between us. I think back to the message I left on her voice mail three nights ago. After realizing how crazy I was to spit off fifty questions at Jax, I had downed a few beers, then called Emily to clear everything up. However, thanks to the buzz I was feeling at the time, the message geared less toward friendly banter and became frustrated ranting. But, I reasoned afterward, it was justified. I wasn’t trying to rail into Emily, but how could she think that Jax wasn’t treating me right? Or that she and I weren’t a good pair? I mean, I am finally being open about who I am. And Emily is my best friend, for crying out loud. Shouldn’t she be supportive?
“Well,” I say, starting toward the bathroom door, “I won’t keep you.”
Just as I walk by, Emily grabs my arm, turning me gently. “Kyle. We should talk.”
I swivel around. Emily squares up to face me, my back now to the door. “We really don’t have to,” I say.
Emily sighs. “Kyle, please. That voice mail…I’ve never heard you like that; you didn’t sound okay.” I look down, a flush creeping up my neck. Maybe I had been a bit overzealous in what I said. “We’re best friends,” she goes on. “I can tell when you’re not being yourself.”
“Really? When I’m not being myself? Em, I would think now more than ever I’m being who I really am. I mean…I’m out! I’m dating!”
“Kyle, you know that’s not what I’m talking about.” She watches me through her glasses. I sway and reach out for the sink to steady myself.
“What then? You don’t like that I’m using a fake ID, or that I’m enjoying myself before soccer gets going?” I throw up my hands. “Heaven forbid a college student drinks underage. Dios mío!”
Emily’s jaw clenches. “You’re mocking me now? That’s rich, coming from you, la borrachita.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I reply, moving backward. “And I really don’t care.”
“Jesus, Kyle. Listen to yourself! What happened to you?”
“I’m spectacular, Em!” I practically shout to be heard over the buzzing that grows louder with every passing second. “But thank you for your concern.”
At this, Emily only shakes her head, and the look on her face makes my stomach churn. She’s never looked at me the way she is now. I find the word for what I see in her eyes immediately but try to force it away, drive it from my mind. But it persists in the way her lip curls up. Complete disgust is impossible to ignore.
“Great, Kyle,” she finally says. “Well, I’m glad you’re fine. I’m so happy to hear that not only are you letting an unhealthy relationship get between us, but you’re also turning into a complete and total bitch.”
My head jerks up. “Unhealthy relationship?”
Emily throws a hand up. “Of course that’s all you heard from that.”
The flush on my neck turns into a heat wave and the buzz in my head roars. The instinct to defend Jax leaps to the front of my mind until it’s all I can see. My fists clench at my sides. “What did you say about my relationship with Jax?”
Emily just stares at me. “You heard me.”
My head feels light and the words come out before I can stop them. “Well, it’s not like what you say really matters. You’re not my family, are you? We’re not sisters; what gives you a right to say all this?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replies, her voice growing louder. “Maybe because I’ve taken care of your ass for almost thirteen years! I’ve covered for you more times than I can count.”
“Is that why you brought me to this school? So you could watch over me? Make sure oblivious little Kyle doesn’t stray onto the wrong side of the tracks?”
“Well, apparently, I need to because you have no idea what the hell you’re doing. I mean, really, Kyle, you pick Jax?”
My shoulders heave, and my breath comes in heavy bursts.
“You still don’t think she’s good enough for me, do you?”
Emily and I stand quietly. Tension crawls out from the cracks in the tile floor and engulfs us, inching its way up our legs until my chest grows tight. Emily searches the room as if the right response may be written on the walls around us. She’s about to speak when I cut her off.
“Emily. Come on.” I step forward, the rush of alcohol surging confidence inside me. “Say it. Go on.”
“Kyle, please.”
“Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
Now we’re standing in the middle of the bathroom. The
walls seem to close in on us, the air overwhelming me until I start to sweat. Emily stares back at me. I can see her biting the inside of her cheek. I wonder briefly if she feels it, too: the anger, the confusion, the years of friendship crumbling as the moments pass by. After a few more seconds, she sighs. “Fine, Kyle. You want me to say it? I don’t like Jax. And I especially don’t like her with you.”
I stumble but regain my footing and cross my arms over my chest.
Emily’s voice grows soft. “Happy now?”
I take a deep breath. There it is. My best friend finally admits that she hates the girl I’m dating. I wait for relief to come. I wait for the breath to return to my lungs. But, maybe because of the alcohol or the suffocating air inside this bathroom, I only feel nauseous.
Emily steps forward and takes my hand. “Kyle. I’m sorry. I just don’t think she’s right for you. But that…we can’t let that change our relationship.”
I look at her through bleary eyes. “Doesn’t it, though?” Emily’s eyes search my own. “I don’t think this can be good for us. I mean, God, didn’t you just hear everything we said to each other?”
“Kyle.”
I shake my head. “Until you are on board with Jax, maybe it’s best you and I take a break for a little while.”
She watches me a moment longer, seeming to search my face for the Kyle she used to know. The Kyle I used to be before Jax. The Kyle she played soccer with for years, who she recruited to come to this school. I’m not even sure who that Kyle was. But how could I go back to her now?
Eventually, Emily drops my hand. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
I nod, biting my lip to keep from crying. My head is reeling; the floor tilts beneath my feet. “I think that would be best.”
Before Emily can say anything else, I run and push through the bathroom door and back out into the restaurant, unable to look back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Back in my bed, I roll onto my stomach. The pillow is warm from my having been in bed all morning. I flip it to the cooler side and drop my face down, letting myself sink lower into the mattress. With a sigh, I stare out my apartment window, thinking about the conversation with Emily in TJs bathroom. It’s not like we’ve never fought before. We’ve been friends since we were little. Of course we’ve fought. What pair of friends hasn’t?