I don’t know whether to elbow her again or hug her.
Then she goes silent, staring into the distance, smile faltering and disappearing, until it’s no longer present. Her whole expression holds not a shred of the entertainment it did a moment ago.
“How messed up are we to be falling for guys like them?” Raven eyes me while fiddling with her mother’s ring.
A lot.
“How messed up are they to be falling for chicks like us?”
A timid curl creeps at the corner of her lips.
“Link’s a handful, but he’s getting under my skin.”
I choke to death laughing on the inside at the quiet meaning of her words, knowing that little piece of information about what Link did to her skincare this last summer. I meant to replace her face cream and body butter, but for fuck’s sake, her cream alone costs around two grand. I couldn’t afford that. So all I was left with was the soothing thought I’m still a good friend since scientific evidence suggests semen is good for your skin.
“Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“You know, because you like Atlas.”
“Nooo! I never said that.”
“You’re forgetting I’m well aware of your taste in men. If there ever was a perfect specimen to cater to it, being custom-ordered foryou, that’s Atlas Holt.”
She’s referring to the striking similarity in both appearance and dangerous behavior, which both Atlas and Milo’s best friend, Reyes, who also happens to be my first, carry. But I want no memories of Mateo Reyes to spring to mind. Having your cherry popped and then not even being acknowledged isn’t exactly a fond memory.
“If we’re speaking in your terms, then Atlas is like a Birkin ordered on Etsy.”
Raven’s chuckle is heavy, but it’s the closest to her laughter I’ve gotten in so long. I’ve missed that sound.
“You can tell this bullshit to whoever you’d like, even to yourself, but not to me. You’ll end up with him.”
I wish I could tell her he’s a means to an end. That falling for him isn’t a luxury I can afford. I swallow my words, I blink away that urge, and put up a faint smile.
“Are we seriously talking boys now?” Raven continues.
“More like weighing in our fucked-up-ness.”
“I never told you but I-I . . . Milo . . .”
The ring circles her finger more times than I could count.
“You were in love with Milo,” I voice out what I should’ve acknowledged years ago.
Raven suffered my brother’s indifference for so long. But he wasn’t indifferent. His eye lingered on her more times than one could possibly imagine. Maybe my father had the “don’t poop where you eat” conversation with my brother. I couldn’t figure out anything else that could’ve prevented Milo from pursuing her. Or was I too close to see the bigger picture? I stood and watched as she endured, and failed her miserably with my inaction.
“He had feelings for you, but to this day I have no idea why he never acted on them.” I squeeze her hand, hoping for an absolution. “Forgive me for never knowing how to help you with that.”
Raven turns her face away from me, not uttering a single word. The way her body trembles gives away that she’s trying to chokedown the tears. It takes a while, and I don’t rush her, nor do I say another word.
“Please come out of whatever you’re doing in one piece.”
She chooses to deflect again. The concern on her face is etched so deeply into the eleven between her brows that she might need Botox early because of me.
“I will. But I’ll have to keep a low profile. For a while, we’ll have to see each other like this.”
“Do you need money?”
“No. I have a translating gig which pays well.” It doesn’t pay that well, but if I tell her I need money for a runaway fund, I’ll worry her further.
