“What’s rule number 4?” Isaac bit back a little too aggressively for my liking. I looked at my grandparents, who were both already standing up from the table.God bless their ability to read a room.
Rule number 4. Each party must always, to the best of their ability, help the other when in need.
These are rules that we came up with when we were children. An addendum was issued to the rules formally when Esme was welcomed in as the third member of our little ragtag band. The rules are contradictory. And thank God,none of us ever decided to do law because our track record really wasn’t working in our favour.
“You know for a fact that rule 4does not supersederule 1.” I sighed. “What’s even the problem? And don’t call her a bitch again.”
“I didn’t call her a bitch, I said she’s being?—”
I cut in before Isaac could speak again. “I don’t care, Isaac. That’s not the way we talk about each other. That hasneverbeen the way we talk about each other.Whathas gotten into you?”
Isaac looked at me indignantly and then laughed. It was cold and icy and anything but kind. Anything butIsaac.“I can’t believe it.”
“You can’t believewhat?”
“You’re taking her side! We have been friends far longer than she has even been around.”Because six years was nothing?
I pinched the bridge of my nose before looking up at him.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side, Isaac. I am happy for you. And so unbelievably proud. Whether you decide to go and work in New York or Philadelphia, you know, hands down, I will be behind you every step of the way. But I’m not going to pretend that it’seasy.Or that it isn’t bittersweet. Or that Esme isn’t justified in needing to process this in herownway.”
He continued to stare at me, expression unwavering.
“I am allowed to be proud of you, whilst simultaneously understanding that our best friend, and more importantly, your girlfriend ofsix years,is allowed to be upset with the trajectory of your life. She’s your biggest champion. And she’s allowed to be upset at the idea of you moving away. Long distance ishard.”
“I’m not sure I want to do long distance.”
And I’m no longer sure I’m the one you should be having this conversation with.
“Everythingcomes easy to her. I am just another accessory toher life and I’m tired of it. I want people to see me for my own achievements. Not forhers.” He almost spat the words. And the resentment seemed to pool out of him now.
And I didn’t know where his anger stemmed from. He knew how hard she had worked to get where she was. Psychology was a difficult subject. And Esme had been constantly underestimated as a result of the way she looked and because of her refreshing attitude to science. She had spent all her undergraduate degree needing to get her papers remarked because her first lecturer had been a jealous old crone. But she, like everyone else, had worked with unrelenting determination to get where she is. Her recent scholarship to do a PhD at Aldercrest University felt like a lifetime of work coming together.
And she had done it all with the grace of someone who had always made time for me, andalwaysmade time for Isaac. She was at almost every lacrosse match. Made time to call and watch every old movie with me when I was feeling sad, and…andmaybe I was taking sides.But I was justified. Isaac was being ridiculous. Did they have to stay together?No.Did he get to blame her for everything that he thought was wrong with his life?Over my cold, dead body.
“You’re being fucking ridiculous, Isaac.” I rolled my eyes at him now. “And it feels like you’re taking all the work she has put into supporting you for granted.”
“No, I’m just finally putting myself first. It is one of many teachings ofThe Church of the Black Sun,”he pushes out of his chair to standing and barges out of the kitchen.
What the fuck is the Church of the Black Sun?
“I don’t think this is working anymore, Quincey.” I turned around to look at him incredulously.
“Your relationship?”
His lips disappeared into a tight line. “This friendship.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The door slammed shut, and I let the silence envelop me as I breathed through the bile rising from my stomach. In the space of twenty minutes, I had gone from laughing at the dinner table to feeling like I had been sat on a carnival teacup ride for hours. Instead of fighting off the nausea caused by cotton candy and undercooked hot dogs, I was swallowing down the end of a friendship I’d had since I was six years old.
I didn’t know what to think, and I didn’t know what to do about it either. As much as I wanted to run after him and demand some kind of explanation–one that the last sixteen years should have afforded me–the speed at which Isaac had ripped off theBand-Aidof our friendship felt like an answer enough. At some point, he’d outgrown me. Days spent adventuring at his parents’ lake house, eating soft serve ice-cream at lacrosse matches, and riding around on our bikes became petty arguments and rules that broke just as hard as hearts.
I slumped on the sofa, or rather into the sofa, given how the old pillows and foam tended to swallow a person whole. I gracedMaura with a weary smile as she rested a hand on my leg; a touch that was steadying, a touch that was warm, a touch that was enough to snap me out of my stupor. All I needed was a little perspective. This petty argument would be over by next week, I knew it would be. Isaac needed to work off whatever was troubling him, and we would be back to ourselves in no time. I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to worry too much about it anyway. As much as I hated to admit it, it really paled in comparison to what my grandmother was still going through.
“Don’t worry about him, lovey,” Maura said, smiling at me and giving me a knowing wink. “He’ll come right eventually. Only a madman would give up on you two girls.”
“Ah, I don’t know.” I shrugged, but there was an uneasiness that had settled in my stomach. “He seemed pretty serious. Started rattling off about church or something.”
