Year Four/Week Thirteen – Present
After the girls unpacked, they spent the rest of the day out while Bryce and I hiked a trail.
Fawn’s cabin was modern and sleek, with cherrywood flooring and high glass windows. A small kitchen was stationed in the corner with a forest green theme to match the living room.
When it came to the sleeping situation, I found out there were two bedrooms. One for Fawn and Bryce, I could only assume, and the other for Blu and me.
“You’re really pushing this couple thing,” I told him, laying my slacks and dress shirt out on the bed. My bed. With Blu.
“What? You want to sleep with me?” he poked, collapsing on the loveseat next to the window.
“Fuck no. I just don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.”
“You can take the living room couch.”
I contemplated it the second I found out about the number of bedrooms, but I was a selfish man. Even if I slept on the goddamn floor, I’d want to be in Blu’s vicinity.
“No.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Bryce reassured, painting a smiley face on the frosted glass window. “She’s into you.”
That much, I could gather. I wasn’t an idiot. The reason why she went into quiet mode was because she saw Tara’s text. Personally, I thought I did a good job of acting like it was nothing.
Because it was nothing.
She’d sat next to me the week Blu had skipped class and asked for my number to compare notes if need be. Her message had been a question about the final essay, nothing else.
But Blu didn’t strike me as the type to forget something like that. I wished she would, but it wasn’t my responsibility to change her brain chemistry.
“Where do you stand with her?” Bryce’s voice was laced with curiosity, like always.
I shrugged. “She’s a great girl. I like spending time with her, but I don’t know.”
That was the truth.
I never knew.
“I think I want her to like me more than I like her,” my admission froze me in place but the words flowed out. “It’s flattering.”
Bryce stopped drawing on the frosted glass and turned to look at me. “You like Blu because she flatters you? Come on, man. Do you hear yourself?”
Loud and clear, and that’s why I shut the fuck up most of the time.
Our hike was mostly in silence. I knew Bryce was disappointed in what I had to say, but I’d never been known to be a liar. Other people were. Who I became, what I became, was years in the making.
Years of disappointment.
Years of shame.
Years of never feeling good enough.
If Bryce didn’t understand why flattery was so important to me, then I wasn’t about to draw it in sand.
It was only at the canteen that Bryce spoke up again, saying, “You should tell her you aren’t interested.”
Sheer annoyance bubbled inside of me as I ordered a frozen yogurt, never ice cream – dairy made me break out and the sugar was poison.
“Why do you care so much? You guys aren’t even friends.”
“No,” he practically spat. “But I’m friends with you. And I care about who my friends are and their fucking morals.”
“You’re questioning my morals? Because I don’t know if I like a girl? What is this, some favour you feel like you owe Fawn to get laid?”
As soon as it came out of my mouth, I bit my tongue. It was too late though, because Bryce stomped off, tossing the fresh cookie dough cup he bought in the trash.
I’d been in enough fights with him to know he needed time alone. I’d been in enough fights to know that I was always the one who caused it.
He was so levelled, so calm. It bothered me. I wanted a reaction. I wanted him to say something, anything to prove that I wasn’t insane for feeling the way I always did.
Useless. Tethered to a burning desire of proving I was worth it.
And seeing Bryce walk towards the cabin alone, hands in his pockets with his head hung low, I realized I wasn’t worth it.
Not even a little bit.
