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Yet she still pulled away from me.
And then, yes, she pulled my heart right out of me and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could.
I’m in shock.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling through my wet eyes.
I don’t know how we went from being so close with each other to not being friends.
I don’t know how this is supposed to work where Rae is concerned.
And I don’t have any idea what to do next.
*
Slowest, haziest, worst days ever.
Liv-Andria won’t talk to me.
I know because two seemingly endless days after our fight, I left an apology note on her door and then texted the apology to her, too—as upset as I was, I couldn’t help it. Iwassorry. Iamsorry. I’m sorry I tried to convince her to see our future the way I do. I’m sorry I kicked her out of my house when I know damn well how hard she struggles on the inside, when I know she didn’t mean to insult me with what she said about Rae. I’m sorry I wasn’t more patient with her.
It’s been three days now since that apology, and she hasn’t said a single thing back to me. She and Rae have been ghosts. Their distance from me is as tangible as Liv’s hair had been in my fingers that night.
It’s driving me insane.
It’s breaking me into pieces.
I miss them like crazy.
And what about Rae’s school dance? Am I still taking her to it? What if I try to ask Liv and she answers only to tell me I’m no longer invited? I know all the way to my core that she trusts me with Rae, but is that really going to matter?
I can’t even stand the thought of it.
“What’s got you so down, handsome?” a voice purrs from nearby.
I blearily look over from where I’ve been halfheartedly unpacking a new shipment of spirits. A blonde boasting bright red lipstick is eyeballing me from her barstool, liking clear in her expression.
“Why don’t you make me a dry martini and tell me about it?”
“Not interested,” I say tonelessly, looking away and recalling how good the color red looked on Liv’s lips, which formed the best smiles and said the greatest things to Rae and spoke my name in ways that felt uniquely awesome every time—like a playful smack on the arm, or a comforting hug, or the brush of her skin along mine.
God,I miss her.
“Who saidIwas interested?” I hear the blonde counter, her tone now a little cross.
I don’t answer her this time, not caring that she’s a customer, only wanting to be left alone. I make her martini and deliver it without so much as another glance at her.
The only time I get a breath through the throttling grayness is when my phone starts vibrating in my pocket on my lunch break. I jerk it out eagerly, hoping against hope that it’s Liv—I’d rather be bitched out over texts than hear nothing from her—but it turns out to be the group chat I’m in with my friends.
My heart falls as I read over the happy messages from Robbie and Tyler, who want to grab drinks on Friday with me and Matt if we’re available.
Well, my schedule is wide fucking open.
You know what? I think I could use a guys’ night.
I need Liv out of my head, out of my chest long enough for me to get a grip. I haven’t even been able to listen to music since everything happened. I’m a mess.
I text back that I’m down.
