Four Letter Word

“It’s a porn site. He’s all over it,” she answered.

Air raced in and out of my lungs. My nose started stinging.

“What do you mean, he’s all over it?” I asked weakly.

“He’s on the home page. Look.”

She reached around the screen, forcing me to let go of one side, and hit the Back button. The video vanished and a website appeared in its place. Xstasy.com scrawled in scripted red font across the top against a black background, and in the center of the screen, there was a still image of Brian taking some girl from behind.

Get Done by Dash flashed below the image.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, covering my mouth again.

“Dash. That’s what Jamie calls him, isn’t it?” Tori questioned, pulling my eyes up to hers.

I nodded on the verge of tears while I stared at his hands on her hips and his mouth, opened on her neck and sucking.

My stomach rolled and twisted into a knot.

“He’s got his own channel, Syd. I looked. It’s him and the same three girls, it looks like, plus some of just him, you know, going solo. They’re dated. They’re all from this year. Some of them are from just a couple of months ago. Did he say anything to you about this?”

I cut my eyes to her.

She quickly shook her head through a frown.

“I’m sorry. Stupid question. I just …” She swallowed. “I can’t believe he’d keep this from you. He must’ve known you’d eventually find out.”

I looked back at the screen.

I was trembling. My entire body shuddered as I stared at that image.

“Why,” I whispered, my voice shaking. Tears fell to my cheeks. “Why was he doing this? Why? This isn’t who he is. He’s not a porn star. He’s not. He would never do something like this.” I lifted my eyes again. “It wasn’t him. It’s not him.”

“Hon.” Tori reached for my hand. There were tears in her eyes, too.

My best friend never cried.

“It’s not him!” I shrieked, pulling away from her. “It’s not! I’ll show you. Watch.” I started moving my finger over the mouse pad to open up a video when Tori grabbed my hand. “Stop!” I pulled away again. “I wanna see them!”

“You don’t, Syd.”

“Yes I do!” I cried, fighting against her arms, which were reaching for me. “Yes I do! I wanna see them. Let me see them! LET ME SEE WHAT HE’S DONE!” I was screaming. I couldn’t control it.

She slammed the laptop closed, slid it over, and grabbed my shoulders so hard I flinched.

“It’s him. Trust me, it’s him, and you do not want to see that, hon. You don’t.” She shook her head and let her own tears fall. “You don’t wanna see it,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. “Honey, please. Please don’t watch.”

I dropped my head and sobbed as my best friend’s arms wrapped around me.

I knew it was Brian. Tori wouldn’t lie and I knew I shouldn’t look.

But I did.

I had to.

“He’s mine. Let me see him,” I whispered brokenly against her hair. I lifted my head, shrugging off Tori easily this time, and reached for the laptop.

She cried with her hand over her mouth as I flipped the screen up and navigated the mouse with my finger.

I wiped at my face.

I was determined to watch every video no matter how many there were or how long it would take me.

I got through three before I ran to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet.

Tori held my hair for me and rubbed my back.

A true best friend did more than sympathize with your pain. They allowed themselves to feel it, too.

My tears were her tears. We shared them. We cried together.

I emptied my stomach, slumped over the bowl, and wept while dirty images polluted my mind and the mantra my mother used to soothe herself with rang out in my ears.

Don’t get comfortable being happy. It’ll only hurt worse when it’s gone.

I didn’t think her words could touch me. Nothing could touch me.

I had been floating, high above order and reality. Blessedly and blissfully in love.

I thought my mother was spouting bullshit. Her words didn’t have meaning. They would never be true for me.

I was comfortable in my happy. And love? It was beautiful.

Perfect.

Crazy.

Wildly beautiful.

I had thought about calling my mother, if we were speaking, which we weren’t, and telling her she was wrong, that you could be happy without fear of losing it, because I was. I wasn’t scared.

I should’ve been.

God …I should’ve been terrified.

I floated on my cloud of perfect love, delirious and oblivious to the dirty beneath me.

And when I came down, I didn’t float.

I fell. I crashed. And it hurt.

Worse than any pain I’d ever felt.

It was unbearable.

“Where are you going?” Tori asked as I left her in the bathroom after rinsing out my mouth in the sink.

“I need to talk to Brian. I need to hear it from him,” I called out on my way down the stairs.

Her quick footsteps followed behind.

“I’ll drive you. You can’t drive right now.”

“Fine.”

I didn’t have it in me to argue, and I knew I’d be coming back here with Tori anyway so what was the difference?

I saved my energy for the conversation I was about to have.