It’s the first play, and she already has me on the back foot. None of my scenarios went this way. If she was here, she was asleep. If she wasn’t, I would be. Either way, the conversation would happen tomorrow. I’d have the rest of the night to pretend to sleep and run this over again and again, hyping myself up. And now I feel like a naughty child called in to see the principal. Bee is sitting on her bed, cross-legged, sipping from a mug, face very severe.
‘I wasn’t expecting you home tonight.’ I say, sitting downon the edge of the bed and cocooning myself in the safety of inane small talk.
‘William is attending a wedding and had the invite before we started seeing each other. He asked if I could come, but the bride hasn’t met me, so she said no.’
Sounds like there’s more to that story.
‘Oh. Okay.’
Silence. I don’t really know where to look. To my right, I see the neatly folded pile of clothes I placed in here the other day.
‘I’m sure you’ve read my message by now.’ I nod once in confirmation, my mouth pressed into a thin line. ‘I look forward to an open and productive discussion when you’ve had more time to consider it.’ I still don’t say anything.
‘Maybe we can book in a time in a week or two.’ She’s all business now, like she’s setting a first appointment with a new bride. ‘And I’m sure you’ll want to really map out a path forward for us to use as a launch point for the discussion.’
Oh, goodie. Will my performance review and personal improvement plan be conducted in person or will it be virtual with you at William’s? ‘Jesus, didn’t we do this already?’
Shit. I said that out loud, didn’t I? The shock on Bee’s face says yes.
Then Bee crosses her arms over her chest, a sneer on her face. I aspire to this level of unflappability. Whatever else Bee might be, she is certainly hard to flap. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
Do it tomorrow. Do it tomorrow. Do it tomorrow.
When I look back on this conversation later, I’ll be ableto identify this as the moment. The last moment I could turn back. Smooth over my little outburst, promise to give the matter considerable thought. Mollify her with soft half-true platitudes and go to the sweet, sweet haven of my bed.You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m a shit friend. I’ll figure out how to be better.
I know that’s what she wants to hear, and it might even be the better option: it’s late. We really have no business having this conversation after midnight without even stretching first.
But I can’t do it. I can’t cave to what Bee wants this one time. Maybe I’m high off the endorphins of the last few days. Maybe Arthur fucked some bravado into me. Maybe I actually believe what Nicole told me earlier. Maybe I’ve finally opened my eyes to the absolute audacity of Bee lecturing me about not being a good enough friend. Maybe I’m just tired.
Too tired to hold up the dam walls containing half a lifetime’s resentment. Resentment that until tonight I wasn’t even aware of. But it’s here, and it’s welling behind my heart, and tonight it cracked, and I don’t know if either of us are going to survive the deluge. Apparently this cannot, in fact, wait until tomorrow.
I guess we’re doing this now.
I turn to sit on the bed fully and face Bee head on.
‘I’ve got déjà bloody vu from the last time you gave me a stern talking-to about not being a present-enough friend for you.’
‘Perhaps you need to take some time to reflect on why we haven’t seen an improvement in your behaviour, resulting in a follow-up discussion.’
I want to slap the condescending look off her face. ‘No. Isimply disagree with the premise of either discussion.’
‘How so?’
‘I have made you the centre of my universe for years, to my own detriment. You can accuse me of a lot of things, but I’ve been nowhere else but fuckingpresent.’
A perfectly formed tear tracks down Bee’s cheek. ‘I feel as though you’re invalidating my lived experience.’
‘Yes, I am. Because these particular feelings are not valid.’
‘You’re being so defensive. I’m just speaking my truth.’
Way to dodge the substance of what I actually said, Bee. I get up off the bed. I can’t sit still anymore. Her eyes, narrowed, follow me as I pace around the room, stepping around little mounds of clothing.
‘You want to talk about present? Where the hell have you been since you met William? Because as far as I’m aware, I no longer live with you—I live with your stuff. Your stuff that I washed and put away after you just dumped it in the kitchen; thanks for noticing.’
‘I knew this was a jealousy thing.’ Adrenaline pumps through my veins. Is she ever going to get it?
I throw my hands up and turn to face Bee head on. ‘My god you’re actually so self-absorbed that you aren’t even capable of seeing that this conversation should be the other way around.’
