The door cracks open and I’m greeted by wary amber eyes.
“What’s up, Ro?” Mel swings the door a little wider.
“Mellie. Can we talk?”
“Uh, sure. Okay. Come on in.” The door is pulled all the way open to let me through, and I immediately start up the stairs toward her bedroom.
“Ok, I’ll just follow you throughmyhouse, tomyroom, I guess.” She sounds annoyed. I’m already fucking this up and I haven’t even started.
Once we’re in her bedroom, Mellie quietly closes the door behind us and leans against it, her arms folded across her chest. “What’s going on, Ronin?”
I stare back at her, hoping that my expression is open and raw. I’m not trying to hide a damn thing fromher anymore. My heart pounds like a drumbeat in my chest. “Mel. You’ve barely talked to me since—since the basement.What’s going on? What’s going on withusis the better question.”
A memory from that night invades my mind unbidden, her skin bare and glowing next to the flickering television,The Fifth Elementforgotten on screen. My hands flex where they hang at my sides.
Mellie brushes her hands against her leggings as she speaks, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ronin.”
“I just want you to talk to me, Mel. I want you to look me in the eyes again.” I stride forward, reaching out to take her hands gently within mine. Her head tilts up to meet my gaze. “Are you okay?”
Mellie’s face is unreadable. “Of course I’m okay.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?” Her eyes widen at my outburst.
“I said, bullshit. You’re scared, aren’t you?”
She scoffs.
“I know you are, Mel. You can’t hide your emotions from me. I can read you like a fucking wide open book. What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared—” Mellie starts, but I cut her off.
“Please, Mellie. I’ve known you for five years.” I squeeze her hands gently before letting them go, only to graze my knuckles across her cheek. Her eyes flutter closed at my touch.
“What happened doesn’t have to be a mistake if that’s what you’re afraid of. It can be the start of something new, if we let it.” My voice comes out barely more than a whisper.
Mellie opens her eyes, staring deep into mine, searching for something. “But what if itwasa mistake? What if this ruins our friendship? We might never be the same again.”
“We won’t ever be the same again. Not after that.” Emotion is thick in my throat and I swallow against it. “It’s part of growing up, though. What happened back there, it did change us, Mel. That much is true. Buthowit changed us is still up to us to decide. What do you want now?”
“I don’t know. Iamscared, Ro.” Mellie’s amber irises glow with unshed tears. “This is all just—a lot.” She closes her eyes again, her arms coming back up to wrap around herself. “I’m sorry.”
“I want this with you. So badly, Mellie. I want to try at least, and see where this might go. You don’t?” My heart cracks at the thought that this is all one-sided. That Mellie isn’t on the same page as I am.
“I…” A single tear escapes as she searches my face. “I don’t think so. It’s too much to risk. Too much to ask of me, Ronin. I can’t lose you.”
“You can’t lose me,” I repeat hollowly.
My heart shatters.
“You’re my best friend,” Mel says. Her arms tighten around her torso, pulling her further away from me. “It will ruin years of friendship if this goes badly. What we did—it was a mistake. It never should have happened. We—we were both emotional and caught up in the moment.”
My voice cracks. “You don’t mean that.” I take a step back, away from where she still leans against the door.
Another tear slips down her cheek. “I do, though. What were we even thinking?” Mel’s calm demeanor slips. Her features twist in pain, eyes wide and panicked. Whatever battle she waged internally seems to have ended—a side chosen. “Weweren’tthinking! And what did you expect would happen now, anyway? You’releaving, Ronin!” She gasps, clutching at her chest. “You are leaving. Tomorrow. And you want to talk about what this is?” She gestures between us. “It’s too late, I think. Don’t you?”
I am at a loss for words. This isn’t how I wanted this to go down. Not how I thought things would end between us today.
