Inseparable

by Siobhan Davis

  “I guess I should thank you. You’ve done me a massive favor. I am not going to waste a single second more thinking about you, and, as for being friends, friends don’t treat other friends like this.” My eyes fall to the tattoo on my wrist. “The friend who went with me to get this”—I circle the infinity symbol—“would never have treated me so horribly, but I guess you wouldn’t know that because you’re no longer the same person. You’re no longer someone I can call a friend.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  My words were thrown out in the heat of the moment, and I wanted to instantly take them back, but I’m too upset to do the right thing. For once, I want to let him stew. Not that he seems in any way concerned. He sits around the dinner table laughing and joking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. I guess I’m a lot less skilled in the acting department, because I can’t disguise my anger or my hurt, and I’m sullen and withdrawn, barely speaking and only picking at the gorgeous dinner Ayden’s mom has prepared. When Kayla drags me up by the hand to cut her slice of pumpkin pie, her sweet good nature and infectious laughter finally pulls me out of my head.

  As I serve up dessert, I decide to pull my big girl pants on and hold my head up high. Show Devin I can ride above his rejection and that I’m not going to curl up into a ball and die just because he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings. I slide my chair closer to Ayden’s and give him my full attention. At least I have one friend I can continue to count on. “Do you want me to kick his ass?” he whispers, in between mouthfuls of pie.

  “Don’t bother,” I whisper back. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me what he did?”

  “Are you?”

  We stare at one another, neither backing down, both trying to work out what the other knows, and it’s creating tension where tension shouldn’t exist. That’s the problem with secrets—they drive a stake right through the heart of relationships, invoking all kinds of imaginary inventions, all manner of protective protestations.

  “Maybe the psychic will reveal all,” he whispers, and I know his teasing tone is an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “You’re still okay to come with?”

  He purses his lips, cocking his head to the side. “You know I’d never let you down. I said I’d go and I’m going.” One of America’s most renowned psychics is holding an event in Minneapolis just after Christmas, and I’ve had tickets for months—I’m a sucker whenever any of these shows roll close to town. Mom indulges my strange hobby, and I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s taken me to the fortune teller at the annual carnival and how often she’s driven me to these psychic events, but I already told you she was awesome, right?

  “Ahem.” A loud throat clearing pulls us out of our whispered conversation. My cheeks flush as I notice every pair of eyes fixated on us. Mr. Carter smiles. “We can leave if you’d like some privacy?” he jokes.

  Mom’s face is radiant as her gaze bounces between us, and I know she thinks she’s figured this out. Little does she realize the grumpy-faced guy sitting on her left is the real object of my romantic and sexual obsession. Devin glares at Ayden, and Ayden returns it and then some.

  Mrs. Carter nudges her husband in the ribs. “Carl, leave them alone.” She rises in her seat, collecting plates.

  Ayden stands up. “Sit down, Mom. You cooked, we’ll clean.” I rise and start stacking the dirty dinner plates, carrying them into the kitchen.

  Lucas and the girls help clear the table, and then it’s just Ayden and me in the kitchen. I’m rinsing while he loads the dishwasher.

  “Don’t you make a great team,” Devin snarls, stepping into the kitchen with two empty wine glasses.

  “Cut this shit out, man.” Ayden sends him a filthy look. “And grow the fuck up.”

  Devin opens the refrigerator, almost yanking the door off its hinges. “Me, grow up? That’s fucking rich.”

  Ayden folds his arms across his chest. “Did you deliberately set out to alienate your two closest friends or did this fuck-up happen by chance?”

  Devin pours white wine from the bottle into the two glasses. “Did you deliberately set out to piss me off?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ayden shakes his head.

  Devin recorks the wine, placing it back in the refrigerator. He turns toward us, jabbing a finger in the air between us. “You two acting all lovey-dovey at the table.”

  “We weren’t acting all lovey-dovey,” I protest, leaning my butt against the sink. “We were just talking.”

  His lips curl into a sneer. “Sure you were.” He lifts the two glasses. “I’ve always believed you were different than other girls, but maybe I was wrong. When you don’t get what you want from me, you run straight to him and try to rub my nose in it.”

  My anger flares up again. How dare he insinuate I’m using Ayden to make him jealous or that I could simply substitute one for the other. How dare he dismiss my feelings for him so flippantly. Before I can utter a word in my defense, my remaining best friend cuts in.

  “You are way out of line, dude.” Ayden shakes his head again. “I’m her friend. I’m trying to be yours too, but your head is so far up your ass you can’t see it.”

  “Whatever. It’s not like I care.”

  And with those awesome parting words he leaves the kitchen to bring the moms their wine.

  Ayden sighs in exasperation. “I don’t know what the hell to do with him.”

  “That makes two of us.” I look down at the floor, not wanting to verbalize this but needing to at the same time. “I think you were right.”

  “I usually am.” I hear the slight smirk in his tone. “But about what this time?”

  My hair hangs around my face like drapes as I look up at him. “About our friendship.” I trace the edge of my tattoo. “Nothing is permanent, and everything changes even when you don’t want it to.”

  “I want to go to the party,” I proclaim a few hours later. The oldies are in the sitting room still drinking wine and chatting. Ayden’s sisters are in their bedrooms, and Devin and Lucas left after dinner. Ayden and I have been sitting in the den, casually scrolling through the TV channels. We’ve both been in a funk since the kitchen showdown with Devin.

  “He’ll probably be there.”

  “I know.” He’s the main reason I want to attend. Now that my initial anger has faded, guilt is doing a number on me. I didn’t mean for him to think I was flirting with Ayden on purpose, and now that I’ve had time to think over what he said, I’m not feeling as hurt as I was before. Don’t get me wrong; I still don’t understand it, and the hurt won’t fade anytime soon, but I do believe him when he said he cares about me. I can’t compel Devin to act a certain way, and if he wants to deny the attraction between us, I can’t make him change his mind.

  If it means losing him as a friend, then I’ll willingly endure the heartache to keep him in my life. I’ll find a way of mending things with him, and repairing my punctured heart, starting with an explanation. “I need to fix things with him.”

  Ayden opens and closes his mouth in quick succession. He drums his fingers off his knee and then exhales noisily. “Okay. Let’s go. I could do with getting out of here.”

  In the bathroom, I slick some more lip gloss on my lips, dab some powder on my shiny nose, and run my fingers through my hair, while Ayden goes to update our parents.

  I run to my house to grab my coat and scarf while Ayden starts up the Jeep. I blow circles in the frigid air as I walk briskly to his car. “Brrr.” Rubbing my gloved hands together, I plonk my butt on the passenger seat. “It’s freezing out.”

  “I know. The windshield is already frosting over. I think it might snow.”

  He drives slowly and carefully on the icy roads. Cars line both sides of the street outside Zach’s house, and the thump, thump of music greets my ears as we climb out of the Jeep. I str
ip off my cardigan, smoothing my top down, exposing more cleavage than normal. Ayden cusses under his breath. “Jesus, Lina. I can’t let you go in there like that. They’ll eat you alive.”

  I waggle my brows, dumping my cardigan on the seat and shucking into my coat before I get frostbite. “They can try.”

  Ayden rolls his eyes, taking my hand and leading me toward the house. Zach is one of Ayden’s football buddies, and his parents always go out of town on Thanksgiving, giving him and his older brother free rein to throw parties. Although this is my first time attending, I’ve heard tales from previous years—Zach’s Thanksgiving parties are legendary.

  A few people from school are outside smoking, and they all tip their head at Ayden as he holds my elbow and ushers me into the house. I’m hit by a wall of heat, smoke, and pungent smells as we step inside. I unbutton my coat and remove the scarf from my neck, fanning my face with my hands. A few of Ayden’s teammates high-five him as we pass. “This way,” he says, steering me toward the back of the house.

  “Ange!” Mariah screams my name across the kitchen, enthusiastically waving her hands in the air. A grin graces my lips as I cross to her. “You made it.” She grabs me into a hug.

  “Hey, man.” Cody greets Ayden with a slap on the back, handing him a beer.

  “Nah, I’m good. I’m driving.” He grabs a soda out of the ice bucket instead, popping the lid.

  I shuck out of my coat, folding it in a pile and placing it on the windowsill. “I’ll take it.” I have my greedy hand out before Cody can whip the beer away.

  Ayden frowns a little but wisely says nothing. We chat as we sip our drinks, watching a few idiots out in the back garden trying, unsuccessfully, to light a bonfire. I surreptitiously scan the kitchen, but there’s no sign of Devin. Maybe he didn’t come after all.

  After a bit, Mariah links her arm through mine. “Let’s dance.”

  She drags me out to the main living room, pushing her way into the middle of the thrusting crowd. I’ve a nice buzz from the beer, my limbs are already loose, and I never need much persuasion to dance anyway. We dance for a few songs, and then I need the bathroom. “I’ll come with,” Mariah hollers in my ear, and we shove our way through the crowd. The downstairs bathroom is locked, and there’s already a line, so we traipse upstairs, standing behind a few girls already waiting. I dab a hand across my damp brow and lift the hem of my top, flapping it up and down in a desperate attempt to cool off.

  “Girl, you’re on fire tonight.” Mariah smiles, knocking my elbow. “Did you see all the dudes checking you out on the dance floor?”

  “Nope.” Truth. I get lost in the music and the sway of my body when I dance, and everything else fades into the background.

  “You’re so clueless.” She rolls her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Get the fuck out!” a familiar male voice roars from somewhere behind me, and my head whips around.

  “Sorry!” Two girls squeal, clamping hands over their mouths, as they quickly close one of the bedroom doors. They start giggling. “She’s such a lucky bitch,” the dark-haired girl says, and while I don’t know her name, I recognize her from the cheerleading squad.

  The blonde bobs her head, agreeing. “Becky played it perfectly. She knew he’d come around.”

  An icy chill creeps up my spine as her words register, and I’m no longer hot. Bile rises in my throat, and I take a step forward.

  “Don’t.” Mariah’s warning is soft and low.

  “I need to see this for myself.” With blood thrumming in my ears, and my heart jackknifing in my chest, I walk toward the bedroom. The two girls convulse with laughter as they pass me, sending amused looks in my direction.

  My palms are sweaty as my hand curls around the door handle. Mariah tugs on my elbow, beseeching me with her eyes. “You won’t ever be able to un-see what you’re about to see.”

  “I know.”

  But I’m still doing this.

  I gulp over the acidic taste in my mouth. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach. My limbs are almost visibly trembling as I open the door.

  I make no sound, even though I’m dying inside. Devin is nude, flat on his back, on the large bed, and a naked blonde is on top of him, riding him energetically like she’s on a bucking bronco. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away even though I already want to erase the image from my mind. Devin grabs her hips, grunting as he urges her to move faster, completely oblivious to my presence.

  Nothing new there.

  Nausea swims up my throat, and I think I might be sick. Becky turns around, still bouncing up and down on him, grinning manically when she sees me. “Here for some tips, Mary?” She winks, reaching behind her and cupping Devin as she continues to ride him.

  His eyes blink open, and he notices us for the first time. “What the fuck?” His words are slurred, his gaze unfocused.

  A tear trickles down my cheek as unrestrained heartache plugs every empty space inside me. “How could you do this?”

  “Not everything revolves around you, Ange,” he snarls, lifting Becky off him and depositing her on the bed beside him. She starts mouthing off, but he glares at her and she clams up, tugging the covers up under her arms. I want to avert my eyes, not to look at the sight of the love of my life naked beside my archenemy, but it’s like my eyes are superglued to his. I can’t look anywhere but at him. He wraps a hand around his erection, stroking up and down. “Liking what you see, Ange?” He winks, and my mouth floods with bile.

  “You make me sick.”

  He snorts, continuing to stroke himself as his gaze lands on my chest. “Showing a lot of skin there, baby doll.” He slurs his words. “Was that for my benefit or Ayden’s?” He spits the word out like it physically hurts him to say it.

  “Screw you, asshole.”

  He laughs again, and my hands clench into fists at my side. Sounds of voices behind me draw my attention to the growing crowd. Devin notices too, finally dragging a sheet over himself. He sits up straighter in the bed. “Now, now. Don’t be so flippant, not when we both know how much you want that. You’re just pissed because I turned you down.”

  Becky bursts out laughing, and a few titters erupt from the crowd at my back. My cheeks inflame.

  Mariah tugs on my elbow. “We’re leaving,” she whispers furiously, glowering at Devin.

  “What happened to you?” I shake my head. “I don’t even know you at all.”

  His face contorts, and he sneers at me. “Know me as in the biblical sense?” He smirks. “No…you’re right. You don’t know me in that way, and you never will. Girls like you don’t know how to please guys like me. Unlike”—he frowns, pausing for a second as he drunkenly stares at Becky—“uh, Becky here.” She shoots him a withering look as he slings his arm around her neck, smacking a loud kiss off her cheek. “Becky knows how to fuck like a porn star, and I don’t get any of the grief. You, on the other hand, are all about feelings and hearts and love and shit. Kill me fucking now. Couldn’t you just be happy with the orgasm I gave you? Nah, you had to whine and moan and beg for more.” The crowd erupts in laughter, and more tears slide silently down my face.

  It’s that exact moment when my heart ruptures in my chest. I can almost physically feel it. The splintering and cracking, the breaking apart of my heart and my soul. The death of something vital inside me.

  Strong arms wrap around my waist, and I’m lifted from behind. “Let’s not do this here,” Ayden says calmly, tucking me under his arm. He levels a vicious look at Devin. “We’re done. And if you ever go near Lina again, I will personally beat you to within an inch of your life.”

  “Fuck you, douche.” Devin flips Ayden the bird as Becky nestles into his side, cooing and smiling like the cat that got the cream.

  Ayden shields me protectively as we make our way out of
the house. He settles me in the car first, buckling my belt, and staring at me with wide-eyed concern. I’m rocking back and forth in the seat when he cranks up the engine.

  The sobs start in earnest the second he pulls away from Zach’s house, and once the dam is breached, there’s no stopping it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I’m still sobbing when we arrive back home. The lights are out in both our houses, so Ayden parks in my driveway and carries me to the front door. My face is buried in his neck as I cry.

  “I know you’re upset, Lina, but you’re gonna wake your mom, and I know you don’t want that,” he whispers.

  I sniffle, swiping at the hot tears coursing down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I cling to him as I attempt to stifle my cries. We enter the house and he closes the door carefully while keeping one arm underneath me, holding me up. Silently, we go to my room, and he places me on the bed, stroking my face with immense tenderness. “Do you want me to stay or go?”

  “Stay,” I sniffle. “Please.” I turn my back to him, yanking my clothes off and tossing them on the ground. I scrape my hair back off my face and tie it into a messy ponytail before sliding under the covers in my undies. I don’t even have the energy to pull on my pajamas, let alone wash my face free of makeup. Ayden has stripped down to his boxer briefs, and he climbs in beside me.

  We face one another, on our sides, and he reaches out, twining our hands. “He’s an asshole, Lina, but I know he cares about you. That wasn’t him speaking tonight. He was wasted.”

  “Don’t make excuses for him.”

  “I’m not. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, and I’m not saying it for his benefit. I’m saying it for yours because I’ve never seen you look so distraught, and I know how much he means to you. I … I know you love him.” His face contorts unpleasantly.