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“I get it, I just don’t really need you to look out for me like that. I think I’ve got it under control,” I say.
“Do you?” he asks. “Because guys like that—they use people like you. They want to take care of you or fix you to feel better about themselves—show their friends and themselves that they aren’t like everyone else or they’re edgy or they’re cool, or…they just want to piss their parents off.That’sthe best-case scenario. Don’t be his quarter-life crisis before he marries some rich, blonde Instagram model type of girl.”
Okay, that second one stung a little bit. That felt less protective friend and more—something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. I’m going to go with projecting, for now, and I decide to let it hang there and leave the air uncomfortable instead of matching whatever energy that was. He’s just ended his relationship with Cori, and it went in a really bad way. Maybe he’s just feeling disenchanted with love and relationships in general, and it was just the wrong time.
After a few seconds that feel like long minutes, he says, “Anyway, a buddy of mine from work is in this band—he says they’re kind of awful—but they are playing tonight at this bar up in Capitol Hill. Thought I’d see if you wanted to go with me?”
Right now, I’m pleased to say, “Sounds cool, but like I said, I have to work. I really need to get going likerightnow, actually.”
“Alright, Rubes,” he says. “Good talk.”
He hugs me, and it’s uncomfortable. I don’t lean into it like I normally do.
And I wouldn’t exactly call it a good fucking talk.
six
Allthesudden,ourlate summer collapsed into a cold, wet, fall. The next couple of weeks were kind of a blur. You know the type—when you meet someone and it’s new, and you absolutely cannot get enough of them. You’re completely consumed, and thoughts of them fill every free moment your mind would have had. You start to forget where the other person ends and where you begin. My days consisted of sleeping in at Jake’s in the mornings after late shifts or coming home at night to find him in my apartment, and meeting him for lunches and happy hours when our schedules allowed it. He’d leave early in the morning for work, and I’d lie on his pillow and bathe in his scent. It was intoxicating. It was dangerous. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of disaster—like I was standing on a ledge above the city with my arms out, daring myself to catapult to the ground.
When I was with him, I was able to forget that outside of each other, in the real world, we didn’t make much sense. When he was gone, I wondered what it would do to us. Thus far, we’ve been able to exist in our own universe, but you can only do that for so long. Relationships progress, friends mesh. Families meet, worlds collide. Where would I fit into his? What if my darkness was too heavy and it pulled us both under?
I’d find out sooner than I’d like to.
For the first time in a while, I’m at the bar with Olivia and Evie after finishing an earlier than usual shift. As expected, they’ve been squeezing me for information about my relationship, if that’s even what it is, and I’m just not comfortable giving them. Maybe that’s why I’ve been avoiding this.
“That’s pretty much it,” I say. “There’s just not a lot to tell. We hang out a lot, I guess.” I’m trying to act like it’s something more casual than maybe it is, because it feels like something else.
“Ruby, you should have seen him when he came to me at work asking about you. The guy looked sick. Like legitimately ill,” Olivia says.
“Yeah, speaking of—we never really addressed that. Why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Or why didn’t you just give him my number instead of sending him to ambush me at work? That’s how friendship works,” I tell her.
“Honestly, he said he didn’t want it. Something about how if you didn’t want to see him anymore, he didn’t want to have your number to drunk text and cry about it whenever he wanted,” she tells me.
“He did not.”
“He did. I swear.”
“She would have ignored the calls anyway, so good choice,” Evie adds. “I love him. I haven’t even met him, but I love him. And you know what’s the best part about him? He’s not fucking Alex.”
“Yeah, that would be pretty awkward if he were fucking Alex.”
“Stop. You know exactly what I mean,” she says.
“Not really. What does he have to do with anything?” I ask, but I meant it to be rhetorical.
“The dude manipulates the shit out of you, Ruby. You know that I hate it. He’s the reason you never have a relationship. He keeps you just close enough that you think he cares. He’s totally fucking fake. Be glad you haven’t met this guy,” she says to Olivia, “I want to punch him in the face.”
“So I’ve heard,” Olivia says.
“Well, it's possible that neither of us will have to worry about him anymore,” I tell her. “I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of weeks, and the last time I did, it didn’t go well.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” she asks.
“I think he was upset that I hadn’t had any time for him lately. He already knows Jake, I guess, and he doesn’t like him. He had a bunch of shitty stuff to say about him, and then kind of about me, too—as an extension of him. It didn’t feel great.”
“Of course he did, Ruby. That’s what he does. Don’t worry about whatever the fuck he said. He doesn’t know Jake. He’s lying,” Evie says.
“Apparently, it’s a work contract thing. A lot of the stuff that he said I’d heard before, Olivia, and it was from you. You know, all that stuff you said to Kate about him that night? Maybe he isn’t lying. It’s not like I’m the best judge of character.”
