I see Simone on the futon with a blanket tugged over her, and Lani is at the small corner desk in sweats, twisting a pen through her fingers. The TV screen is frozen on a paused YouTube haul because they must have been talking.
No one says anything when they notice me.
I drop my bag by my bed. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Lani says, cautiously.
Simone takes a breath. “Thought you might have dropped off the side of the earth.”
“I…” I start to say something…but I don’t know what to say, still too embarrassed to face them.
“You didn’t think we’d be here, did you?”
I shake my head.
Simone just nods. “Do you still plan on staying here, or should we put in a request for a new roommate?”
The question hurts, her tone hurts, this all fucking hurts. Because I know I hurt her. I know I deserve to feel this way. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.
“Simone—”
She shakes her head, stopping me. “Don’t, it doesn’t matter. You don’t want to be here; you’ve made that clear.”
Lani just watches, indifference written on her face. I know she’s on Simone’s side here. It’s the right side to be on.
“I’m sorry. I—” the apology spills out. “I didn’t mean any of what I said at that party. I was out of my head, and I was hurting, I…I’m so sorry, Sim…” I turn to Lani. “And you, too, Lani.”
Simone’s face cracks a little, but not enough to let me off the hook. “You said things that don’t get unsaid just because you were hurting.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I know. I was a complete bitch to you two. I was just scared of you seeing me like that…and angry at myself, honestly. I took that all out on you when I shouldn’t have. I don’t—” My voice wobbles. “I don’t want to be that kind of person.”
Simone sits up, pulling her blanket off and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, watching me. “I love you,” she says gently. “I always will. But I can’t be your punching bag. Not anymore, Lyd.”
I nod, having to look away before I get choked up. “Okay.”
I can still feel her watching me, though, like she’s searching for her best friend behind all this mess—the girl she met in middle school that was never this cruel. “You can’t do that, you can’t say things like that and then just disappear.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s why I hid it all from you in the first place. I hate hurting you. You’ve always been there, always taken care of me, always pulled me out of my own shit…and—I don’t know, I was just tired of you having to do that, having to fix me, having to look out for me. I hate myself for being the kind of friend that you need to do that for. You’re too good of a friend to me, and I really don’t deserve you sometimes.”
It’s silent as we all just sit there. Then Lani stands up, walking to our mini fridge and grabbing a water to hand to me.
The gesture feels like a small lifeline she’s handing me, one I don’t deserve.
Simone swallows. “Is the drug thing…a thing?” She winces at those words. “Like—how much are you doing, Lyd?”
I feel the lie form before she even finishes asking me. “Not much, I promise. It’s honestly rare,” I say, trying to casually laugh. “Like…only a handful of times. At parties. I swear.”
Lani leans a hip on the desk, eyes on me, calling bullshit from a mile away. “What was that in the dorm before, then?”
I pick at the label on the water bottle until it tears off. “I was having a really rough day,” I tell her. “That’s not a regular thing. I swear. I don’t need it or anything.”
“You would tell me if it was more, right? If it was a problem?” Simone asks. Her voice is small now. Not angry, just…scared, which is worse.
“Yeah,” I lift my eyes to her so she can see what she wants to see. What she’ll tell herself she sees, because it’s what she needs to believe. “I’d tell you.”
There’s a beat where all three of us know how easy it is to believe a good lie when it makes us feel better—safer.
Simone nods. “Okay.”
