Briar

I power off my phone and toss it into the drawer of my nightstand. Asher has texted and called more times than I can count. I can’t bring myself to read the messages. It’s hard enough to stay away. I’m afraid I’ll cave after a few carefully plucked words, and then I’ll be in the same position once more, a couple of months down the line. Empty. Lost. Broken.

It took every ounce of strength I had not to at least hear Asher out when he came to my door yesterday. Everything inside me was screaming to love him and nurture him and just be there for him. To see how he was coping after his loss. But it’s all so convoluted now, and some addictions can only be overcome by quitting cold turkey. The withdrawals won’t last forever; you just have to be strong enough to survive them.

When Dash came back inside, he tiptoed around me, like I was some fragile creature, waiting to see if I was aware of Asher’s presence. I didn’t say a word. I let him think I was oblivious. What difference does it make, anyway?

“You good?” Natalia asks, zipping my suitcase. Natalia’s mom offered me a job at her boutique, and Nat just signed a lease on a condo and extended me an open invitation to stay for a week or forever—her words, not mine. I decided to take her up on it and get out of Dodge for a while.

Standing up to my parents and informing them of my plans to take a year off seemed like nothing in comparison to recent revelations. Mom took the news pretty well. I still haven’t spoken to my father, but I know he’s unhappy with the news, if the voicemails he left on my phone are anything to go by. Dashiell’s at least working on a degree from somewhere, even if it’s not Dad’s school of choice. Not going straight to college at all is unacceptable in his eyes. The pressure and weight of indecision and uncertainty were lifted, only to be replaced by the crushing weight of Asher’s absence.

“Yep,” I say, forcing a smile, but she sees through it, giving me a sad one in return.

“You’re not curious about what he had to say?” Nat asks skeptically, with a nod of her chin toward the drawer.

“Of course, I am,” I say bluntly. “But that’s how you fall into old habits.” She chews on her bottom lip, and I can tell she’s trying desperately not to say something.

“Spit it out.” I sigh, stretching out on my stomach on the bed next to her. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“You didn’t see his face, Bry,” she starts. “He was climbing the fucking walls at the hospital, and he blamed himself for your fall. Dash didn’t help matters,” she mumbles the last part.

“What do you mean? I told you guys—it was Whitley.” She’s the one who caused my fall, in more ways than one.

“Dash insists Asher pushed you, and honestly, I think it’s easier for him to blame Ash for everything.”

“He pushed me out of the way. It was my brother who almost hit me,” I argue.

“Either way,” she shrugs, “they both blame him. Then once he got the news about his dad, I think it was just too much for him.”

“Whose side are you on?” I try to joke, but it falls flat. “You guys don’t even like each other.”

“Yeah, well. Things change. And I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t give it to you straight.”

“I just hope they can figure it out,” I admit sadly. Even though I know he’s no good for me, I don’t want him to be alone in this world.

“It’ll all work out,” she says reassuringly.

“Hey, whatever happened with Adrian?” I ask, suddenly remembering her mission to make him want her.

“Ugh.” She sighs, rolling her eyes, playing with the tips of her scarlet hair. “That was nothing. Just a game we were playing.”

She’s avoiding eye contact, and something in the sound of her voice makes me wonder if there’s more to it than she’s letting on. But, Nat doesn’t keep secrets. She tells me everything.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on my bedroom door, and we both turn in the direction.

“We’re dressed, Dash. You can come in.” Nat giggles, snapping out of whatever that was. She’s been staying with me a lot, and Dash walked in on her undressing the other day. He still hasn’t recovered. That, coupled with the fact that I now know way more about his sex life than any sister should, he’s been extra skittish lately.

But it’s not Dashiell that walks through my door. It’s Whitley. Her black hair that’s usually sleek and flat ironed to perfection is in a frizzy ponytail, and her face is devoid of makeup. She twists her hands in front of her nervously. Once the initial shock of her standing in my bedroom wears off, Nat springs into action and stands in front of me, blocking Whitley’s view of me.

“You have two seconds to walk your Emo-Barbie lookin’ ass out of this house.”

“Your brother let me in,” she says over Nat’s shoulder in a meek voice that sounds completely foreign coming from her. I make a mental note to punch Dash. Why in the hell would he let her anywhere near us?

I want to throttle her. To cause her physical, bodily harm for causing Asher more pain than he already had to endure. For setting this whole fucked-up thing into motion. How can one person be the root of so many problems? But something in Whitley’s tired, defeated expression has me listening to what she has to say.

“What do you want?” I ask through my teeth, and Nat still doesn’t move.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? For having Asher sent away? For lying about sleeping with him? Or is it for sending me to the hospital with a concussion?”

“All of it,” she cries, swiping tears off her pale cheeks. “I know, I’m fucking awful. I don’t know why. I’ve always been this way. I’ve never had friends,” she says, and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

“This is not the time to play the victim,” I inform her.

“I’m not,” she snaps, mindlessly scratching her forearm in a nervous gesture. “I’m just trying to explain. I see myself doing these horrible things—feeling this intense jealousy that consumes me—and I can’t stop. But when you wouldn’t wake up…” She leaves the sentence hanging in the air.

“You could have killed her,” Nat seethes. A little dramatic, maybe, but not technically false.

“I know. You just have everything. Asher, Dash, Adrian. People are drawn to you, want to protect you, take care of you. You have friends and people who love you. I had Asher for a minute, but then you took him from me. And then, I had nothing. It’s just so easy for you.”

“Easy?” I scoff. “Yeah, life has been a real treat these past few months.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just couldn’t understand why it couldn’t be like that for me. Is there something in me that makes me unlovable?” Whitley’s scratching intensifies, and she doesn’t even seem to be aware that she’s doing it. Her forearm is red and raw, and I’m realizing that Whitley’s issues are probably much more involved than I ever knew. “I just snapped. And I’m so sorry, Briar. For everything. I just needed to tell you.”

“Don’t be sorry for me, Whitley. Be sorry for you. I may not have Ash, but I can sleep just fine at night with the things I’ve done. Can you?”

It’s a lie, a flat-out fucking lie, that I sleep well. I’ve probably only slept a handful of hours total since that night, but she doesn’t need to know that. I go through the what-ifs night after night. What if I never went to that party? What if I tried harder to convince Ash to leave with me? But more than anything, what if I never kissed him in front of the window that night three years ago? But I can live with myself knowing I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone, and that’s more than Whitley can say.

“No,” she admits, with an edge in her voice. “But I’m trying to fix that.” Honestly, the fact that she still has an attitude—that she hasn’t had a complete personality transplant—gives me hope that maybe she will be better in the future. That this is genuine. Maybe it makes me a fool, but I believe her.

“Well, good luck,” I say, a little snidely, but genuine nonetheless. She nods before turning to leave, but pauses in the doorway, looking back at me over her shoulder.

“He’s always loved you, you know. I think I knew it before he did. I knew it because he looked at you the way I looked at him.”

My throat gets tight, and my eyes burn. But I won’t cry. Not in front of her.

“Bye, Whitley.”