Negative space, phrase
Helps to define the boundaries of positive space and brings balance to a composition.
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling above me. There was a small crack above my head, and for a second, my heart pounded with worry at the thought of the ceiling coming crashing down on me, just like my life had crashed the previous night.
Shaking my head to get the thought out, I pulled myself up and set on the edge of the bed. My phone was ringing incessantly, Arden’s number flashing on the screen like crazy. I knew I needed to pick up, but answering her call meant owning up to my actions, and I was too scared to do that just yet.
Dragging myself off the bed made my head explode in white noise and pain. I managed to get myself to the kitchen, drawing myself a large glass of ice-cold tap water. I drank it hungrily, gulping down the calming liquid before I picked up my phone. It was time to face the music.
But before I got the chance to, there was a sharp, angry knock on my front door. I knew it was her.
That was the thing about Arden. She cared. She cared even when I was being a bitch to her. She cared when I didn’t. She cared when nobody else did.
“Bebe, I know you’re in there,” she called out angrily. “If you don’t open this door right the hell now, I’m going to knock it down.”
I groaned inwardly and moved towards the door. She was pissed, and she had every right to be. Still, I was terrified of her anger and of finally accepting all the mistakes I’d made the previous night. It meant remembering… and to remember was the worst part of the whole thing.
I opened the door and Arden stormed into the room, her eyes shooting daggers at me.
“How could you do that?” she snarled at me.
Her voice was pure anger, and her body was overflowing with signs of betrayal. I felt guilty then, really fucking guilty, for having let her down the previous night. Arden only wanted the best for me, and I’d known that all along. But I could never accept it, her kindness and the sweetness she exhibited with me, even though I didn’t deserve any of it.
Forget. Forget. Forget. And then move the fuck on.
It was an eternal motto, but it felt that as long as I kept Arden around, I’d never be able to move away fully from Posy’s death. It had always been the three of us, and existing with just Arden by my side felt wrong, like we were missing our queen bee. Arden turned to me now, as if I was supposed to lead the broken mess of our friendship to the finish line. But I couldn’t handle it.
Hell, I couldn’t even handle looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes spoke of what I had been through, and I couldn’t take it.
“Arden,” I started, my voice raspy and apologetic. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve fucked up.”
“Sorry?” she barked at me. “You’re fucking sorry? Well, guess what Bebe, sorry just won’t do anymore. Sorry won’t fucking cut it.”
I felt the pain then, so sharp and intense it made me gasp and recoil in surprise. It felt like I was being severed, like a leg being cut off and the phantom limb was still kicking, even when it was long gone.
“Arden,” I pleaded with her. “Please. Just give me one more chance, and I’ll make it up to you, I swear to God.”
“I don’t care who you swear to,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m done believing your lies. You want to destroy yourself that badly, Bebe?”
She thrust something into my hands and my fingers trembled as they wrapped around it.
“Here. Knock yourself out.”
She didn’t even touch me as she handed it over, and I watched her storm out of my apartment, slamming the front door behind her so hard it wouldn’t even close, probably throwing it off the damn hinges. I felt hot tears prickling my eyes, but I refused to acknowledge them. Instead, I stepped into the hallway and glared at a curious neighbor staring at me through a crack in her front door.
“Mind your own business!” I barked at her, the tears threatening to fall.
“We only get one family,” she said in response, then closed the door.
No one had mistaken Arden and me as sisters before.
But as I closed the door, I tried to tell myself meaningless little lies that would make the whole situation better, diffuse some of the tension left in the air from her abrupt departure.
It didn’t matter anyway, did it? If she wanted to blow me off, so be it. I had a ton of other friends who weren’t as judgmental or as demanding as she was.
But if that was the case, why was I crying already? Finally, I was unable to hold it all in and I let the tears slide down my cheeks. There one second, and gone the next, just like Posy had been. And now I was finally, mercifully all alone.
I knew Arden would never forgive me for what I’d done. In her mind, I was heading down the same destructive path as Posy, trying to ruin myself the exact same way our queen bee had. And I was doing a damn fine job of it, too.
The previous night had been a mistake.
The night I’d spent in Miles’ apartment was blurry and hard to remember, but I could still feel his stubble beneath my fingertips, almost as if I’d just brushed my skin against his. Miles mattered even more now, but I wouldn’t admit that to myself—no, not just yet. It was too soon to admit there was only one person left who cared about me.
Instead, my eyes focused on the locket in my hand, my fingers clutching at it desperately.
Posy’s infamous silver locket. She never opened it. Never showed the picture inside to anyone. But she wore the necklace with the heart-shaped locket every single day I’d known her.
Posy’s parents wanted Arden to have it because they’d been friends the longest. I suspected they never liked me, anyway, but seeing my friend get Posy’s most prized possession still fucking hurt. And now here it was, the snake-like silver chain cold to the touch and slippery between my fingers.
I opened the locket. I had to see.
I’d seen Posy toy with it a thousand times, staring inside the silver heart. And now, I was finally about to find out what she’d smiled at so often. There was a picture inside, just like I’d suspected.
I recognized the picture of us right away. It had been taken the summer we met, when we were all thin from too much booze and not enough food and wearing ridiculously short dresses with no underwear. I remembered the way we had posed for the camera. Arden smiling wide, her mouth half-open and revealing a pink piece of gum between her rows of perfect teeth. She used to chew gum all the time, said it helped her with the hunger pangs.
And then there was me, in a white dress that emphasized my tan, and eyes were so innocent I could barely recognize them. I had to remind myself this was when I was just starting to fit in with Arden and Posy’s crowd. Maybe it was even the exact night when I finally realized I’d made it, and I was part of their stupid clique.
My eyes were turned to Posy, staring adoringly at her like she was my damn idol or something.
And Posy, Posy had one of her tits out, with her fingers covering the nipple, and a big grin for the camera. Her hair was wild and her eyes were hazy.
Posy had cut Arden out of the original picture. Now, it was just the two of us. Me, looking at her like a love-drunk teenager, and her, madness and passion wrapped into one hot little firecracker that changed our lives forever.
My fingers clasped around the locket, closing the picture shut. I couldn’t bear to look at it. I couldn’t bear to think of what it meant.
Poor Arden. Posy’s parents had insisted she keep the locket, but neither of us knew what Posy had done to the photo inside. My heart swelled at the thought of Arden discovering it on her own, and I hated myself for putting her through that. I should have been there for her. I should have been a friend. I wasn’t the only one who felt alone after Posy dying. We were two peas in a pod, except Arden had tried desperately to help me, and I’d done nothing but push her away.
I collapsed in the hallway, my back against the front door and the locket feeling like a cold, hard piece of betrayal in the palm of my hand.
I’d been a bad friend. And now it was too late.
The urge to throw that damn necklace through the window was so strong I had to force it to drop from my fingers, landing in a pool of silver on the hardwood floor. I couldn’t even look at it anymore. All it symbolized was the end of an era, a time when I was foolish and young, stupid and happy. A time when I was in love.
That’s what it was all about in the end.
The jealousy.
The anger.
The need to join Posy wherever she was now that she wasn’t terrorizing the city’s best nightclubs and sneaking onto the red carpet, flashing her tits to the paps and pretending she was someone. It was never enough that she was someone to me and Arden. Posy had always wanted so much more, and in the end, we weren’t able to give it to her. I’d never stop blaming myself for not trying enough.
Yes, all of it was because of one little reason, the nagging thought in the back of my head, the tiny voice screaming at me that this was the answer all along, I’d just been too fucking blind to see it.
I’d been head over heels in love with Posy, and now, I finally had a hint—in the shape of a locket—that she had felt the same way.
Maybe Posy felt something for me too.
Maybe all those times we kissed and I felt sparks flying between us, the same fire was burning in the pit of her stomach.
Maybe, when we looked at each other and understood the other person to the last sliver of shame, regret and unfulfilled desires, she saw me for who I was.
And maybe, just maybe, she loved me for my brokenness just like I loved hers.
Since the moment the locket ended up in my hands, I wasn’t mourning a friend anymore.
I was mourning a lover.