“I’m not really sure… but I know it was Lily who did it. Will was torn up for weeks until he saw her at the kegger. And then… well… you know.” She gives me a sympathetic look, but doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t need to. “It destroyed him when she died, Olivia. Being with you fixed him, I guess. I don’t know… you’re the one thing wedon’ttalk deeply about.” Ancient irritation hides behind her words, but I can tell she’s trying.
My stomach sinks remembering that night, the way Lily tried to talk me out of my crush on Will. The way he pursued me right in front of her. Was I just a pawn in their fucked up game? I can’t stop the tears as they start to fall.
Gen looks at me sympathetically. “Look, I know this is all complete shit.”
I snort wiping the tears from my face. “You could say that again.”
Gen hands me a tissue from her bag. “I shouldn’t be defending him— trust me when I say I’m the last person who wants to do that right now. But Will really does care about you.” I crack a teary smile and Gen smiles back. “Also, it’s important to note that Ben is very clearly in love with you. I know you probably feel betrayed right now and rightfully so. Just, I don’t know, don’t write them off completely. Let them at least give you their side of things.”
Gen moves to stand up and I grab her arm, stopping her.
“Gen...” She looks at me, concern flickering over her pretty features. “Thank you.” And for a second when her eyes meet mine, there seems to be some silent truce between us. She nods and I watch her leave, my mind still reeling with the truth.
I can’t quite place how I’m feeling. Part of me is definitely angry, furious even. I feel betrayed, a sadness brewing inside me that feels like it could swallow me whole, but there's this nameless feeling pushing against it, this part that feels as if this curtain has lifted and I finally see the bigger picture. Not quite relief, but close.
The wall between me and that well of grief that lives inside me seems to shrink and I realize maybe it isn’t a well of grief after all— maybe it’s just Lily. Like all of these moments keep bringing me closer to her, to this person she always was. For so long, I buried these memories so deep inside myself she was impossible to see. Out of self preservation, it was just easier to deal with the death of a caricature and not my best friend.
I move, grabbing my bag and feeling the chilly autumn air bristle through my hair as I wipe the rest of my tears. I decide it’s finally time to start remembering.
31
Ben
I have this vivid memory of that summer. I can still feel the sun burning across the bridge of my nose in the late afternoon; feel the salty sting of ocean water spray in my eyes as we searched for Will in the dark; feel the weight that slightly lifted off my shoulders when he finally showed up the next morning, darkness marring the space under his eyes.
It should have been a harbinger for what was to come. I should’ve taken it as a sign but instead I assumed what I always did: that a crisis had been averted, that I’d be able to stop worrying for a few months— a year, if I’m lucky. I knew he was messed up over his break up with Lily, but to be fair he’dneverloved a girl like that. He didn’t have to say it; it was obvious to anyone with sight that he was beyond gone for that girl. It was also obvious that she had one foot out the door from the second they met. I think I’d seen her with Will during normal waking hoursonce, and I’m pretty sure he had to beg her to meet the family. Maybe she had loved him back. It’s not like I talked to either of them much. I was busy basking in the freedom that was not having to worry about Will for a few weeks.
When Lily walked into his life that summer, it was like a breeze blew away all the heavy debris that’d been collectingon the bridge that connected Will and I, and rather than walk back across it I went straight the other way. I don’t know if that was right or wrong, in hindsight, but I do know it was self preservation. Everything I’d done was self preservation, I guess. Other than this.
Texting and calling Olivia has proved fruitless over the past week and she hasn’t come to class, so I’m shocked to see her nervously biting her lip in the meeting room doorway. She looks ready to bolt, but there’s something tragic and steely in her eyes as she decides to make her way to the seat next to me.
“Cabot,” she says after clearing her throat, her mouth pulling into a tight smile that does nothing to distract from the tortured look in her eyes.
“How… are you?” I ask the question feeling so out of place. “I called, Liv. I’ve been worried out of my mind.” I’m desperate for her to look at me, speak to me, give me more than a tight lipped greeting before the lecture begins.
“Yeah,” is all she gives me, flipping her notebook open and reaching into her bag for a pen. My hand reaches for hers without my permission, acting on my impulses with no regard for logic or caution. I think she’s going to pull away but she doesn’t. Her eyes slowly wander to mine, the steeliness in them melting away. I stand, holding onto the eye contact I was yearning for, pulling her up with me, leading her to that same corridor I found her in with Will just a few months ago. To my surprise she again, doesn’t resist me, only takes a visible swallow as she swipes an invisible hair out of her face.
Her arms are crossed in front of her chest now, accentuating its steady rise. Her brows are drawn together in consternation when a swift breeze blows her hair off her shoulders, leaving bare her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck. My gaze travels from there up the side of her face, cataloging every minuscule detail. The way her jaw subtly flexes in irritation, the delicateslope of her nose, the barely there freckle at the corner of her right eye. I notice the faint scar just below her hairline, the perfect arch of her brow, the otherworldly length of her eyelashes. I dare to commit to memory all of this, and so many other things, because I’m choosing to live for myself for the first time in a long, long time. And while I hate that it took this beyond fucked up circumstance to make me choose this, I don’t hate that it’s for Olivia. What I do hate is how long it took me to admit that I want her— that I love her, that I’vebeenin love with her. What I do hate is that I knowingly kept this girl that Ilovein the dark for so long, that I let my allegiance to my brother stop me from making better choices by her.
She pulls in a shaking breath, staring past me.
“So Will and Lily,” is all she says, the faintest tremble in her voice, before she fixes her gaze on me.
“I…” I start to say, suddenly unable to translate my internal dialogue into anything coherent. “I’m so sorry, Olivia,” I start in earnest. I pause, giving her time to give meanything, but she’s silent. Which… I deserve. “I didn’t tell you about Will and Lily because at first, I assumed you knew. Actually, it was all I could think about when Will told me you were together… I didn’t understand how you were okay with it.” She glances away, and I realize she’s wounded or embarrassed? I’m not sure. “When we talked that night at the bar, I realized you didn’t know. And then I thought it wasn’t my place to tell you, after all these years, and maybe it wasn’t then. But eventually itwasmy place, Olivia. I should have told you.”
Calm has taken over her face as she asks, “And why didn’t you, Ben?”
“I—” She cuts me off, still eerily calm.
“I was the last one to know, Ben. No one. Fucking. Told me. Do you understand howawfulthat feels? I can just imagine Will and Gen laughing at me, this stupid girl who has noideashe’sbeen fucking her dead best friend’s boyfriend foryears.” I flinch at the thought of Will and Olivia together as she huffs a sad, exasperated laugh. “But you… we were supposed to be different,” she says, shaking her head. “There were a million times you could’ve told me. Why didn’t youtellme, Ben?” she asks again, desperation coating her question, like my answer is the key to something. All I know is that my answer is shit.
“I was afraid, Liv,” I admit, taking a step toward her. She immediately shakes her head, stepping back from me.
“It’s not good enough,” she all but whispers. “You’re supposed to begoodBen, you’re supposed to bebetterthan that. How could you look at me, be with me, and decideforme that I didn’t deserve to know the truth?” A tear escapes the edge of her almond shaped eyes, landing on an eyelash before her cheek. I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb and cup the side of her face, desperate to shield her from this, fromme. Because I know why I didn’t tell her.
“Listen to me, Olivia. You deserveeverything. You deserve the moon, if that’s what you want. You deserved to know, and I didn’t tell you because I wanted,so badly, to love you in this alternate reality where I wasn’t living my life thinking of Will. I wanted?—”
“Love me?” she interrupts, in disbelief, and I realize that I did say that. Out loud.
