‘I don’t even know what you’re saying right now.’ She looks confused, and it spurs me on.
‘What, because I’m standing up to you? Or because I’m actually the subject of the conversation and participating equally in it? It’s the first timethat’shappened in years.’
She puts down her mug and throws off the blankets. She’sstill in her grey work dress, but it has ridden up as she sat in bed so I can see the black shapewear shorts beneath. She grabs a hair tie from the bedside table and twists her hair into a messy bun. She’s prepping for a proper fight.
‘I amnotself-absorbed,’ she says.
‘Yes. You are.’
‘Just because you say it doesn’t make it true.’
I could make a snarky remark about speaking my truth here, but I’m on a roll. I’ll laugh about it by myself later. ‘Answer me this, then,’ I say. ‘When was the last time you asked me a question about myself? Let alone listened to the answer?’
‘Oh, come on,’ she says. ‘Now you’re just reaching. How did this become about me when what we really need to discuss is your behaviour?’
I shake my head in disbelief. ‘Fuck, how do you not see how hypocritical you are?’
‘I don’t think…’
‘No. It ismyturn to speak.’ My raised voice and pointed finger shock her into silence. ‘This entire friendship, my entirelifehas been about you. For years! We live where you want to live. I date who you tell me to date. I work at the job you got me. I sit at home and wait for you to pick me up and take me out like a good little toy, and I don’t complain when you leave me to gather dust in the box when you get something shiny and new to play with. And we talk about you.God,do we talk about you. Your boys, your clothes, your career, your everything! Not to mention, what other human would supervise the first, like, month of their friend’s new relationship? Agood, and possiblyoverly present, friend, that’s who. I didn’t ask questions even though the whole thing was objectively batshit. I did it because you’re my friend, and you asked.’
Bee’s mouth is hanging open now, but no sound is coming out, so I keep going.
‘In your reality I’m an accessory at best. I only exist to amplify you, to shine a spotlight on you, and anything less is apparently me being a shit friend. You know what? Your baseline for what my support in this friendship should be is too damn high. I’m sorry that my minuscule attempts to carve out a little bit of spotlight just for me is somehow threatening to you.’
It’s very clear from my tone that this is not a sincere apology. When I reflect on it later, I’ll wish I never muttered the ‘s’ word at all, but life is often imperfect. My breathing is heavy now, and the saliva has built up in my mouth. By the final few sentences I was definitely spitting a bit.
And now we’re just staring at each other, a foot apart, breathing deeply, until Bee unfolds herself from the bed, gets up and walks out of her room. After a moment, I follow, assuming that I have fairly effectively ended the conversation. I head towards the bathroom, eager to wash the night off.
Then, like a creepy child in a horror movie, she’s in front of me again: our standoff has just migrated to the hallway. She’s finally come up with a retort, I think wryly.
‘Let’s say you’re right and I have been spending a lot of time with William recently. Can you not give me a little grace there? Perhaps a little more respect for the most serious relationship I’ve ever had? I have always been a good friend to you. I wasyour friend when no one else would be.Everyoneat school wondered why we were friends, but I never listened to any of them.’ She crosses her arms, smug, like she has played the trump card.
‘And you’ve been living off my gratitude ever since,’ I spit out with disgust.
‘Gertrude…’
‘Gertie.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I’ve told you before…’
‘I don’t give a shit, Bianca. Call me Gertie, because I’m telling you it’s what I prefer. Literally everyone else manages it, why can’t you?’
‘I had no idea you felt that way.’
‘Of course you didn’t! You never listen to me!’ I actually stamp my foot, which I don’t think I’ve done since I was six. I’m glad no one else witnessed it. Then I storm off towards the bathroom.
She’s raising her voice now too. ‘You keep making these grand sweeping statements, but when have I actually been like that? Give me examples!’
I turn back to glare at her. ‘It infuriates me that you need me to point out specifics when every conversation we have somehow circles back to you. How about the fact that Arthur and I kissed in Blairgowrie, and when I came to tell you about it, to ask mybest friendfor advice, we magically ended up talking about your boink fest, which I really didn’t need to rehash because Iheardmost of it.’
I don’t think Bee has even suspected about the kiss, let alone anything else, before now, because she looks intrigued whenI mention it. Not enough to actually ask about it, even now. ‘Well, I think sex probably trumps a kiss,Gertrude.But this just goes to my point.’ She’s advancing on me now. ‘You’ve got your new little group of friends.’ She wiggles her fingers and squints to convey her disdain for them. ‘You’ve clearly been chasing poor Arthur around. And yet you claim to be this perfect friend to me? When have you had time, exactly?’
‘God, you’re still not hearing me! I didn’t tell you because you never gave me a chance! I ask to talk to you about something and you instantly turn it around. We had sex, too,’ I sneer. ‘There you go, told you almost immediately. Better?’
She waves a hand and shakes her head, shooing away my words like an errant fly. ‘You’re not even acting like yourself right now. I don’t know what’s going on with you. Who are you right now?’
‘I’m Gertie,’ I say. ‘And I think I quite like her.’