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“Your stuff’s there,” she cuts me off dryly, moving her eyes to the neat pile by the narrow doorway.
It’s almost like dealing with a child when she’s like this, but I’ve never seen her so bad.
She’s changed since I’ve been away. But I guess I’m one to talk.
We sit in silence for a while, the sound of Suze’s stomach growling as she eyes the food I brought finally making me smile as I try not to laugh.
I think it might be our way out of this fight. But she’s not laughing.
With a sigh, I stand to leave. There’s no point wasting my time here when I could actually feel happy with someone else who actually wants me around.
Michael’s waiting for me, my whole life’s waiting for me.
“I should’ve made you pick truth again,” Suze finally groans, right before I make it out of the door.
I turn to face her. Her eyes are wide, shining with tears.
“Why do you hate Michael so much?” I ask her plainly. I have to know.
She finally does laugh, but it’s an ironic laugh.
Spiteful.
“I don’t hate him,” she blurts out loudly. “I hate myself for even making you go to look at the man, let alone—”
I can tell she can’t even bring herself to say it.
“Kiss him?” I ask, my lips curling into a faint smile at the memory.
Anything to do with Michael makes me smile. Makes my heart flutter whenever I hear his name or even picture him in my mind.
“Even your mom thinks he’s great… Why do you always get to be so lucky?” she asks, more to herself than directly at me.
“Lucky? Me?” I exclaim. “Ha!”
But it’s all Suze needs to hear before fully unloading on me.
She practically shouts everything I’ve got or done that she never has, her voice shaking at the end until she’s sobbing. Telling me not only to leave, to get out but to fuck off.
I’m stunned.
Standing frozen as I join the dots in my mind.
There’s college, which she never got to go to. There’s my family, she’s never had one of her own. Spending the bare minimum time with her foster parents.
And now there’s Michael and me, together.
Suze’s had boyfriends, hasn’t she?
She’s always talking about boys. About her latest exploits.
And then it hits me.
I’ve never actually met any of these mysterious characters. Never actually seen her with anyone except my mom, myself, or her foster parents on occasion.
The past few years, talking through text or on the phone. It never actually occurred to me that she was making it all up.
I always thought she was the outgoing one.
She was always the attractive one, and she was always the one who had all the boys.
I’ve only come home twice during college, and only for a few days at a time, mostly because of money.
Mom borrowed against the house dad left us after they separated to send me to college, and money’s been more than tight ever since.
It’s the one thing we never talk about. It stresses her out so much, which only adds to my own guilt.
I worked part-time through college, but that’s been barely enough to cover food and books.
“I had no idea,” I tell Suze, honestly. Suddenly feeling awful, but not because of what’s happened to me.
I feel bad for her because she never said anything, she lied to me and herself rather than just tell me the truth.
Do I really know anyone anymore?
First, my mom is back together with the man she swore she’d never even speak to again. And now my best friend is revealing herself as someone who’s probably more messed up than I could ever imagine.
I suddenly wish Michael was here. He’d know what to say, what to do.
If it wasn’t for Michael, knowing he’s waiting for me in another part of the train, I’d probably be as hysterical as Suze just now.
But the thought of him fills me with calm. He’s the one thing that makes sense in my life right now, and after last night, and breakfast this morning, I feel like I know for sure I’m doing the right thing, going with him once we’re home.
I was torn between Suze and Michael. But now it’s clear.
“I love you, Suze,” I tell her. “I’ll always be here for you, but I can’t have you treating me or Michael like crap just because you didn’t get your way. That’s not fair,” I pause. “That’s not what life’s all about.”
She looks up at me with scorn again, opening her mouth to say something horrible again, but I’ve already turned to leave.
I’ll give her the key to mom’s place before we leave. But I don’t want to feel like a target for her anger right now.
Sorry, Suze. I hope you feel better soon.
Making my way back through the train, back to Michael, my cell chimes and I groan aloud.
