Page 25 of This Changes Everything

“Great demonstration. A-plus,” Ben said sarcastically while popping another forkful into his mouth.

“Sorry,” I said, picking up the fallen frame and leaning it against the wall.

“Still so Canadian.” He wagged his fork, making fun of my instant apology. “Are you sorry?” he mocked.

“Fine, I’m not.” I decided with a confident nod, then dug back into my salad.

“You know, this whole apartment looks like you. Do you think I want twinkly lights over my bed? You sleep with a comforter that has a goldfish swimming inside a martini glass. And I can’t escape that shit because we live in the world’s smallest studio that you found. That frame cost me eighty bucks. It’s an original, studio-printed poster, and it was the only thing I put up on the wall that was mine.” Ben looked up at me again and pressed his lips together. “Don’t you think you should be sorry?”

“ . . . No?” My voice wavered, and my face twisted with discomfort.

“That sucks, Ellie.” Ben held firm, and I could swear I saw his heart break.

This is a test. He’s testing me, right?

Ben pushed his plate away and stood. “I’m not that hungry anymore. Just go ahead and finish without me.” He walked over to his poster to hang it back on the wall.

He was torturing me. This was one of the seven layers of hell, where I’d meet my maker and they’d say, “But you didn’t say you were sorry.” I’d spend an eternity living in shame and guilt as I watched that poster drop on an everlasting loop. Each crack in the glass would crack my soul, and I’d forever relive that time I saw the light leave Ben’s eyes and I did nothing to revive him.

“Ben . . .” I began, but Ben cut me off as he spun back around to face me.

“Pussy.” Ben’s grin stretched across his face.

I deadened my expression. “Really? Pussy? Is that necessary?”

Ben walked out of the apartment, then swung the door open again just as vigorously as I had, crashing the poster to the ground once more, with a bounce to his step.

I shook my head and returned to my food. “You’re a doofus.”

“A doofus?” Ben laughed.

“Yes, a doofus. Deal with it.”

Ben chuckled as he sat back down. “So, I’ve been thinking about Los Angeles.”

Welcome to the club, buddy.

“What are your thoughts about making our way out there once we’re done with school? I know we’re establishing our network here, but then there’s more opportunity there. We’d have to start all over if we left. I don’t know.”

I felt my heart jump up into my throat, then shoved it back down with another forkful of food. Moving to Los Angeles had been my goal since I was fourteen. Did Ben really want to go with me one day?

“First off, we’re only in our first year. We’ve got loads of time.” I tried to temper my expectations. “Secondly, what’s with all this ‘we’ business?”

Ben smacked my fork with his. “Have you thought about it? Because I’m not going if you don’t. I’m not taking a chance with another roommate. You’re locked in, kid.”

“You’re asking me if I’ve thought about moving to LA? Hmm, yes. Every day of my life since I was in utero, and I have the diaries to prove it,” I said, nodding at a box under my bed between chews of food and gulps of wine.

“OoooOOOoo! You have diaries?! Here?! What’s in your diaries?” Ben asked enthusiastically.

“There is a lot of Rory. Like, it’s disturbing.” I had scanned my diaries in the weeks leading up to my move, and Rory Campbell had managed to work his way into almost every entry since I was twelve, like a goddamn psychopath.

Ben snorted. “Do you still diary?”

“Yes, I still diary.” I smiled, looking down at my food.

“Have I made an appearance in said diary?” Ben’s smile was wicked as he scraped up sauce with his fork.

“Here and there.” I smirked.