“It’s bad, then?” Derek nods. Drinks again. “Same thing?”
“Same thing.” He repeats my words, studying the label of the bottle like it’ll uncover why his high school sweetheart acts the way she does.
There’s been countless things Scarlet has started a fight over. But as far as I know, there’s one topic they keep going back to.
“Hinge on the bathroom door broke. Started going off about how dumb it was of me not to go pro. Said if I had kept with baseball we’d be living in a high rise in Los Angeles and not a shitty apartment in Massachusetts.” He sighs. I drink. It’s nothing new. The argument has been reenacted so many times, it could be scripted.
Derek’s tone drops again, whispered and fighting through his words. “I love Massachusetts.”
My feelings are hard to navigate. I’m fighting my bitterness. It’s been months since I’ve heard from Derek. And like every other time he’s ghosted me, the reason goes back to his toxic girlfriend that’s been in his life for fewer years than I have. My instinct is to hold a grudge, but I force myself to consider other things.
Derek is the oldest friend I have. He’s been with me through every milestone of my life. The best memories of my formative years feature him, either with me or supporting me however I needed. And being friends for so long means I know how deep his girlfriend has sunk her claws into him.
He’s partially at fault. Just partially.
I scoot my seat closer to him, left knee readjusting around the corner leg of the dining table, and rub my hand over his back soothingly. In this routine of back and forth between Derek and Scarlet, I have my lines down pact. Memorized and perfected, because I’m the only person in his life who says them.
“Don’t listen to her. You did what felt best to you, and that’s what matters. If pursuing a career in business is what you’repassionate about, you should go for it. She should be happy for you, too.”
Now that I have someone who shows me unconditional love, the toxicity of my best friend’s relationship is even more jarring. Scarlet being unsupportive and hypercritical isn’t new, but I imagine my girl in this situation, making me feel less than and putting me down.
It makes me sick. Liliana would never. At our lowest point we still talked rationally and respected one another. If Scarlet can’t afford Derek that much, then he’s been in a cycle of torture for years.
“I wish she was happy for me,” he says, tossing his baseball cap off and setting it in front of him. There’s a red mark on his forehead where the seam sat against the skin for too long, and he rubs it in time with his temples.
“It’s the same thing over and over again. Doesn’t matter that I've gotten accepted into the grad program or that I have really good ideas for a business model. She doesn’t want to hear about any of it.”
“Wait.” I tug his shoulder back, catching his opaque brown eyes dulling in sadness. The weight of my chest feels too heavy to carry. Was this taking up so much of his mental space he didn’t think he could share it with someone? “You got accepted into the grad program?”
“Oh, right.” He chuckles and waves it off. “A couple of weeks ago. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does!” I lean over and envelope him in a hug. For the first time since being here, he smiles. “I’m so happy for you dude!”
“Thanks, man.”
Derek’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes, barely lifting into his cheeks. It reminds me of the smile that showed up after he performed badly in a game and his parents dragged him awayscreaming. We were in high school back then, but they decided Derek was going to be a baseball star before they decided what middle school he was going to. They didn’t give him a lot of grace when it came to their plans.
“Seriously, be proud of yourself. It’s great news.”
The corners of his mouth tug, but don’t raise even a centimeter. “I know, I know. Just a lot going on right now.”
“I wish you would’ve called me.”
I say it before I register its double meaning.
Derek seems to register the underlying message, throwing his head into his hands and groaning into the oak wood.
“I’m so fucking sorry, man.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Wood against wood screeches again when I retake my seat. Hopefully the sound drowns out my insincerity.
“It is a big deal.”
“You were going through some shit.”
“That’s not an excuse. You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than anyone else.” His breathing turns shaky. “Me and Scarlet are always going through some shit.”
A small noise of agreement makes its way through my throat.
