Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Not going to cry.

Why isn’t this ice cream working? I’ve eaten two bites and can’t manage to the get the third spoonful to my trembling lips.

Not going to cry, dammit!

Shooting up from the Airbnb couch I storm to the sink to throw Rocky Road down the drain for the first time in my entire life.

“This is your fault,” I mutter.

To myself. Not the ice cream.

My hips are the ice cream’s fault but it’s not responsible for Simone being at Jason’s loft right now. Alone with him. Underneath him.

That’s my fault. It was my idea to have those boys sing for him. It was me who messaged Justin and asked him to help. It was me.

I am to blame for this pain.

I ask the empty room, “Why does this feel so terrible?” as if a therapist might magically appear to help me understand my psychosis. “For months she was there with him and I was alone and it was normal. I had no problems. I was my usual grouchy self. So why the hell do I feel like I’m going to puke tonight?”

As my shoulders start to shake I breathe deeply in and walk toward the bedroom, but I never make it there. Instead my head slams into a wall and I stay pressed against it, moaning.

“Go to sleep, Sarah,” I rasp. “Tomorrow will come faster that way.”

But I can’t move.

“This is ridiculous. I’ve always been fine with whoever Simone called her flavor of the month. But now a very, very big part of me wants to tell Jason to run…even if he’s way out of my league and I don’t have a chance with him. I know how she is! She’ll spit him out and then he’ll come crying to me and I’ll have to stroke his perfect head and pretend like I’m just his friend. I fucking hate this. God, why does this hurt so much!”

Groaning with my eyes shut, I claw at the wall and try to disappear through it.

A voice in my heart whispers, warn Jason. Warn him!

“Stop it. I can’t warn Jason!” I groan aloud. “That’s ridiculous! And wrong! And selfish as fuck! I’d be doing it for me! Because then maybe I’d be able to get out of the shadow she keeps me in on purpose so she’s the only one who’s shining…”

A-ha! You finally see it!

Opening my eyes in shock, I push off the wall and hold onto my head. “No…Simone doesn’t keep me in the shadows…she’s always very supportive of me.”

When you’re supportive of her.

“No,” I groan. “She knows how much I’m worth.”

To her. What about you as a person? How are you going to be happy if you keep putting her first?

“I work for her,” I whisper. “It’s my job to put her first.”

She talks down to you. She did it in front of Jason after he kissed you, to make sure he knew you were beneath her.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

“Sarah?” A bang on the door surprises me and I look over as I hear her voice muffled through it, saying, “Sarah, I forgot the key!”

“Simone?” I rush over and unlock it to discover her hair in place and makeup still perfect. “Did you come all the way back here for the key?”

“Were you yelling at someone? Do you have a guy here?”

“What? No…” I mutter, running my hand through my hair and trying to act like I wasn’t just talking to myself and need to be handcuffed and taken to a hospital. “The T.V. was on and I was yelling shut up at the commercial. One of those stupid tampon ones that makes us look like idiots.”

“Oh. I hate those.” She blinks with irritation under the surface. “Well, that makes more sense. I would have been shocked if you had a guy over.”

I stare at her as she storms past me and picks up my water, drinking from it like she’s been in a desert. Shutting the front door I mutter, “I could have had a man over.”

On a snort she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” She slams the glass down and announces, “You’re not going to believe this! He couldn’t get it up! Can you believe it? King of Ego-land — cocky Jason couldn’t get his cock to work! Totally limp.”

She’s looking at me like she wants me to start ripping him to shreds, laughing with her over his inability to get it up. A month ago I would have laughed myself silly, because back then my attraction to him was hidden even from me. Back then I would have gloried over this revelation and begged for all the embarrassing details so I could mock him the moment I stepped in front of his overly confident face.

But it’s not a month ago.

Right now I’m just stunned. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she grumbles, running a hand through her flaxen hair. “He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”

“Did you fight?”

“Of course we fought!”

“Over impotency?” I whisper, confused.

Glaring at me, she demands, “Why aren’t you joining in on this with me? You sound like you feel bad for him!”

“I don’t, I just know it’s hard for guys when they’re not… hard.”

I sound like an idiot.

She dryly mutters, “Ha ha,” walking to the couch and flopping onto it, even though her flop is more graceful than most ballet dancer’s pirouettes.

“What did you argue about?”

She growls, “Over him saying he wasn’t interested anymore!”

My jaw loosens as my heart starts pounding. “He said that?”

“Yes!” she shouts, throwing up her hand. “Can you believe it?!”

“No one has ever told you that before.”

“No shit, Sarah. You think I don’t know that? God, say something helpful here. I went over there like a fool, practically begging him to fuck me and he acted like I was a friend or something. We’re not friends!”

Walking to the couch I sit next to her with absolutely nothing to say for comfort because we have never been here before.

Before I know what I’m doing, I blurt, “You just want him because he’s unavailable.”

She burrows into me and whispers, “I know.”

Inhaling relief that she was able to be honest, a spark of hope lights up in my heart. Like I might have a chance.

“I’m going to get him back,” she murmurs. “I’m going to make him sorry.”

The spark flickers and disappears.