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Smiling, I laid my head on Bowie’s chest and sighed. It was funny to think that I’d once had the crush on Kye. Back when the boys still thought of me as one of the guys. I used to daydream about the day Kye would notice me as a girl in the same way he noticed other girls. But that had never happened. I was thankful for that. Kye wasn’t meant for one girl, and he’d have broken my heart. I’d have lost this. What we have now.
Sure, when Bowie had bought me flowers and asked me to the junior high dance, things had changed for us—but in a way that worked. The day that Bowie asked me to be his girlfriend, I knew in my heart it had never been Kye for me. I’d gotten that confused because of Kye’s dominating presence. He was hard to look past. Kye was my best friend and also a ridiculously sexy, funny, and very charming man-whore, who everyone wanted to be around.
Genesis—Seventeen Years Old
June 1
The basement was too quiet as I walked down the stairs. Coming here was the last thing I’d wanted to do, but I had to. For Kye. And maybe for me too.
When I reached the bottom step, I saw Kye sitting in the faded brown leather recliner with a bottle of Corona dangling from one tattooed hand and a cigarette in the other. His eyes locked on me, but he didn’t smile. There was no gleam of mischief in his eyes. It was as void as my chest felt because I was here without Bowie.
“You came,” he said, then put the cigarette between his lips.
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?” I asked him, walking farther into the den. Memories of Bowie flooding me. My chest ached as I thought of the last time we’d all three been in this basement together. It was something I had known would destroy us.
“No,” Kye said through his teeth that still held the cigarette. Then, he reached up and took it out of his mouth. “I knew you’d show, Baby Doll,” he replied, then sighed heavily. “Fuck, it’s hard to sit down here.”
I sank down onto the sofa and crossed my legs, leaning back. “Yeah, it is,” I agreed.
Kye took a drink of his beer, then held it out to me.
I reached forward and took it. Placing it to my lips, I took a long pull from it before handing it back to him. “We probably need tequila,” I said.
He nodded.
Kye didn’t live here anymore. He had moved out to live with his dad shortly after the breakup. I knew it was his way of coping. He ran from it rather than facing it. Not having Kye there, in the window across from my own, had been painful, but then it had probably been for the best.
“Has he spoken to you at all?” Kye asked.
A lump formed in my throat. “No,” I whispered.
Kye turned his head to look at me. “Are you doing okay?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure anymore. “I miss him … us.”
Kye put his cigarette out in an ashtray and got up from the chair to move over beside me. He put his arm behind me. “I’ve not been the greatest best friend either. I’m sorry about that.”
At first, I had hated Kye for kissing me. For drinking too much and then telling me things that, deep down, I wanted to hear. I blamed it all on him. But as the days wore on and I faced life, walking past Bowie at school and seeing him with other girls, I had realized it was equally my fault. I had wanted that kiss.
Unspoken words hung in the air, which I doubted we would ever acknowledge. Regret was one thing that we both felt so deeply that it ruled out all the rest- the years of friendship we had destroyed in a few moments of weakness. The girl in me who had once held that crush somehow took over my brain that night. She hadn’t cared about anything but that Kye was finally kissing her.
Kye was a wild, unattainable life force. He didn’t see past his own light most of the time. That night, with too much to drink, he’d forgotten about Bowie. Neither of us had thought about anything but the way we felt even if it had been fleeting.
“I’m sorry I fucked it all up,” he said, then put the bottle to his lips again.
“I blamed you for a long time, but the truth is, I was equally at fault. I participated.”
He let out a long sigh, but said nothing. The silence was deafening, and I needed it to go away. I wanted to fill it.
“My curiosity had gotten the best of me.”
Kye turned and looked at me. “Is that what it was? Curiosity?”
