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I shadowed her. “Tell them what? That I’m sad and angry?”
She nodded, and my hamstrings cried out as I tried to touch my toes. I held the position for a few seconds then relaxed. “I’ll tell them when you tell yours.”
Her mouth teased a wicked grin. “But I don’t have friends to tell.”
“You have me.”
“You aren’t my friend,” she said, leaning back on her hands.
“No? Then what are we?”
She squinted, toggling her head back and forth. “I’m not sure. Maybe frenemies.”
“Frenemies?” I repeated with a laugh, and when she nodded, I held out my hand. “Okay. Frenemies.”
She met my handshake, palm to palm, her eyes holding mine, and I swore I could feel her trying to mentally burrow into my mind. I let my index finger drift to her inner wrist, dragging along the soft skin over her pulse point, and I could see into her mind. Into the simmering emotions she kept tightly locked up, and how she hated that I’d witnessed her breakdown. She only ever showed the world how strong she was, but I—the guy she supposedly hated—got behind her walls.
I was the enemy in foreign territory, and I probably should have run screaming. But I was willing to let her break me and carry me back to her lair.
Which was why I needed to leave before she could.
I stood abruptly. “I’ll see you Monday.”
She offered me one heartbreakingly tender smile. “Have fun with your friends.”
Then I got the hell out of there.
I was late getting home, so I sped through a shower and change of clothes, and by the time I trotted downstairs, Hank and Ethan had let themselves in.
“Where were you?” Ethan asked, setting out the black folding chairs for the table we used.
“The gym.”
Instead of helping set up, Hank sat on his ass on my couch with a bag of chips. “Since when have you started going to a gym?”
“Since a few weeks ago.”
“You turning into a gym rat?” he asked, crumbs falling all over the floor.
“Come on, bro.” I stole the bag out of his grasp and stomped into the kitchen to retrieve a bunch of paper plates, handing him one. “Act like a human.”
“Plates and utensils are a modern invention. We don’t actually need them.”
“And I don’t actually need you at my house,” I said, pointing at the table, a silent direction for him to eat at it.
“You’re touchy today.” Hank plopped down on one of the folding chairs. “Shouldn’t you be less stressed after being at the gym? Or is it all that testosterone making you angry?”
I didn’t answer and lifted my gaze to Ethan, who had his head tipped to the side as he mindlessly flipped poker chips between his fingers.
“I’m not angry,” I told him quietly, and he nodded.
“Never said you were.”
Taylor’s words echoed in my head.Because deep inside, you’re a sad and angry boy too.
These guys were two of my oldest friends. I could tell them the truth. I should tell them the truth.
That I felt like I’d been standing still for years. No matter what I accomplished, no matter how many “adult” things I checked off the list, I still felt as if I was that twenty-four-year-old in the middle of my apartment staring at the dead body of my best friend. Despite everything I’d tried, I still felt frightened and alone, guilt-ridden and pissed at myself, knowing I should have done more to help Patrick. To save him. I was sad and angry that day, and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.
