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Until now.
Ezra appeared on the other side of the bag and placed his body against it. He met my eyes, silently telling me to hit it. Hit him. So I did. Over and over, until my knuckles were bleeding and I wasn’t altogether certain if the moisture streaming down my face was sweat or tears.
He talked to me the entire time, a comment to push every punch.
“That was fucked up, man. I tried to tell you.”
“She was a mess.”
“I don’t understand this shit, man. This isn’t you.”
“What the hell’s going on with you?”
I punched in silence, until finally, he put himself in front of the bag. I had a choice, hit Ezra or stop hitting. I stilled, dropping my fists and standing before him with chest heaving from exertion. “You have to stop, man. We love you, but you gotta figure out where all of this is coming from, and take care of it.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving with exertion and sweat dripping down my spine. “I don’t know what I’m fucking doing anymore, Ez,” I finally said, and sank to the floor. Lying on my back with my arms out at my sides, I stared at the fluorescent lights overhead until I saw spots, conscious of Ezra sitting down beside me.
“It’s obvious what you’re doing, man. You’re doing your best to make this girl’s life hell. The question is why? Does she look like some chick who did you wrong once upon a time?” His words were teasing but the tone was anything but. I threw one arm over my eyes to block out the lights.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Hell, I don’t remember my mom very well, but maybe there’s something about her that reminds me of her, subconsciously. That’s what Baron thinks, anyway.”
I couldn’t believe I was discussing this. I never talked about my mom. Never.
“Okay, that’s good, we can work with that.” Ezra and Baron both knew the story of how my mother had pretty much checked out when I was seven. One day she had been there, a typical, loving mother, and the next she’d been laid up in the bed after a car accident injured her and killed my dad. She’d gotten hooked on opiates and then on heroine, and eventually, she was just… gone.
“That’s minor, though. I’m not an idiot; obviously I know she’s not my mom.” I fell silent and Ezra gave me space to sort out my thinking.
For a couple of minutes, at least. Then he spoke again. “You want to know what I think? I think you like this girl. Like,reallylike her. And for some reason that scares the piss out of you.”
I scoffed. “I barely know her.”
“So? I know you and Baron think I’m up in my head all the time, but I recognize when my best friend is thirsty for someone. When both of them are.” He flopped back on the mat beside me. “When I am.”
I didn’t respond at first. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t already aware of; it was just the first time any of us had said anything out loud about it. But maybe that needed to change, like that Casanova app had advised.
I took a breath. “So we all like her,” I said. “Now what are we going to do about it?”
∞∞∞
I half-wanted to see Jude, half-hoped she would be asleep. I needed to apologize, but was tormented by the idea that she’d throw my apology back in my face.
The lights were off in the main room, but faint illumination showed beneath Baron’s door. Jude’s room was closed, only a deeper strip of dark showing at the bottom of the door. I walked silently to Baron’s door, Ezra following behind me, and paused with my hand on the doorknob. The low hum of television dialogue was audible, and I opened the door a few inches to peek inside.
Baron met my eyes over the top of his computer, a challenge I wasn’t ready to meet in the depths of his. His mouth was a thin, unsmiling line, and as I looked, he glanced down pointedly. Jude was curled up against him, eyes closed and mouth open slightly.
I heard a soft inhale behind me and knew Ezra had seen, too.
Raising my chin in a gesture of acknowledgment, I closed the door. I had fucked everything up. Instead of sending her running completely away, I had sent her running right to Baron. I was an idiot.
I turned to Ez. “What now?”
He had already made his way to Jude‘s bedroom, flipping the light switch as he entered. “I think now,“ he said, “the only thing to do is prove that you want to change, and that you’re trying to do so.“ I stepped in behind him, cast in my glance around at my earlier chaos. Ezra looked at me pointedly. “That we’re both trying to change.”
I started picking up the plastic spiders, scraping them into a single pile. “But what’s the point? Baron’s made his move. She’s his.”
“Just because Baron has made his move, doesn’t mean she’s made her decision. What if it doesn’t have to be a competition?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I said, rubbing my forehead tired lately.
