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“We were dancing, and Morgan said a woman had been staring at me. That she laughed and took a photo… I—” I wish I could forget it, but it will be forever burned into my memory. “I bumped into her in the bathroom.” I screw my face up in shame. “Got in her face. Told her it was rude to make fun of people.” Fresh hot tears fall down my cheeks. “She didn’t know what I was talking about. It was all paranoia. I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never done anything like that before, never even noticed other people while I’m out.” Morgan made me notice. And now that I think back on all the nights we’ve been out, I realize it’s not the first time she’s mentioned it.
“It isn’t a sign of weakness to admit you screwed up.”
“I know, but this isn’t the first time it’s happened. The night I pitched the book to my publisher, Morgan had suggested we drink over a video call.” It still makes me feel so silly. So small. “I finished a bottle of wine and told her about the book, about my dream of publishing it oneday. She kept going on about contacting my agent. She even dictated the email to me. I think she was trying to help.”
“I’m not sure I agree.”
It hardly matters now. “I’m still the person who sent it. And I’m the one who approached an innocent woman last night. I could have said no to those drinks. I could have had water. I could have stopped myself and I didn’t. I just…”
“Went along because it made her happy.”
“I don’t know what happened. I’ve been feeling so good recently. But ever since I came back, things have been different. I don’t feel like myself around her. All she wants to do is drink, and if I say no, she doesn’t want to hang out at all. So I either feel bad for drinking when I don’t enjoy it or I feel like an awful friend. Sometimes I think we might be okay, but then she says something, and it’s like I’m taking ten steps backward. Last night was the worst it’s ever been. The worst that I’ve been.”
Sebastian frowns, his brow pinched. “Hey, that’s all bullshit. It’s the insecurity talking, not you. I’ve seen how much you’ve come alive lately. Bee, you must have noticed how incredible you are. Everyone else sees it. Tell me you can.”
“I… sometimes,” I hedge, but already I know he’s right. The cracked pieces of my confidence start to lock back in place. “Yes, I can.”
“Good. You don’t owe perfection to anyone, especially yourself. And if you keep ignoring your own needs for others, then who is looking after you? If Morgan walked up right now and said, ‘I expect you to agree with me oneverything I say, and never have your own opinion,’ would you do it?”
“No.”
“Then why are you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always agreed to spare her feelings. But somewhere along the way, I started to believe her.” And then the real truth hits. “Sebastian, I don’t think I like who I am when I’m with her.”
I’m sick of not feeling like myself. Wearing this old Bee suit that doesn’t fit. It never did. Draping myself in someone else’s image and hoping to be liked for it was never going to work. I want to be loved for who I am, right or wrong and everything in between.
I shouldn’t have to convince my own friend of that.
“I don’t want to be that person anymore.” I can’t.
“You aren’t. That wasn’t you, Bee.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.” He brings his hands up, bracketing my cheeks in his warm, strong palms. “You care about people—who they are, what they’re passionate about—you appreciate them. You’re talented at so many things, but you’re never boastful. You’ll try just about anything to satisfy your own curiosity, especially if it means understanding someone else better. You accept people as they are, even though you’re scared they won’t accept you back. You don’t always see yourself clearly, but you’re brave, so much braver than you give yourself credit for.”
My heart aches.
This care won’t last forever. It can’t. Not if I leave. I’mnot naive enough to think that Sebastian would wait for me, and I’m not cruel enough to ask him to move.
It hurts to imagine being away from him. He’s become so much more than a roommate, so much more than a lover. And in the wake of last night, I realize he might be my best friend.
“How do you do this? I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“Of course you are.” He cradles my face between his palms, not caring that I’m a snotty mess right now. “There are plenty of people willing to judge you, ready with an insult or a checklist of who you should be and how you should live your life. But guess what? They can’t change you if you don’t let them. No matter how much they want to. And when you let go of embarrassment and give the finger to fitting into everyone else’s box, that’s when life gets really, really, good. I’m talking double rainbows, bright lights, dancing in the rain good. Because you’ll be yourself, and you’ll realize how truly amazing that person is.”
The fact is, I’m terrified. Of what Aiden might think, of ruining what we have, how he sees me. What if our differences are as deep as Morgan’s and mine are?
And yet… I can’t help but hold on to a sliver of hope.
Sebastian sees me (now in the least flattering light possible), and he hasn’t run. Yet.
Even Cassie encouraged our differences. Rochelle, Bram, everyone at the club welcomed me, told me in no uncertain terms to “be yourself; we don’t judge.”
And last night, it wasn’t a stranger I was truly worried about.
It was Morgan.
