Perhaps just as bad as all that shit is the fact that my best friend, this innocent, wholesome, hilarious chick who deserves somethinggoodfrom whomever she dates is now plastered up on Tinder looking…well, not quitesleazy, but not likemyGem. Those pictures and that cute little line in her bio is going to get serious male attention (exhibit A: those fuckwads on set), and not the wholesome kind from someone who’s interested in her, who knows her on the deepest levels, and who wants to take care of her in all the ways she’s worthy of.
I’d be a little hard-pressed to prove to a jury of my peers that Alex is the source of most of my problems, even if it’s obvious to me, but the pic on my phone of that Tinder profile is all the proof I need to confront her, to let off some of this steam on at leastoneof the banes of my existence right now.
I wave the phone in her face dangerously, probably too fast for her to discern what the fuck is even on my screen, but I suspect she knows what she did.
“Did you do this?” My voice practically growls on the words.
Damn.I might talk to my agent about getting me a more intense role before long. That sounded pretty fucking legitimately pissed off. My range might be wider than any of us thought after all.Nice.
Alex raises a single eyebrow—God I’m jealous of that skill—like she can’t believe my audacity right now, but fuck her, because I can’t believeherslately. She’s hanging out withmybest friend, turning her against me, and beyond that, she’s turning her into someone I don’t even recognize.
The smallest voice somewhere far, far deep inside my consciousness whispers that lately, I’ve been someone Gemma probably doesn’t recognize either, but I’m not ready to listen to that fucker. Being mad at myself will accomplish exactlynothing, but tearing into Alex might get me somewhere. Might ease some of this constant fire in my gut that hasn’t let up since that God awful fight with Gemma and the screaming silence from her ever since. It’s worth a shot.
When I don’t explain myself further, Alex speaks, with a dangerous edge to her voice.
“Do you wanna calm the fuck down and use your words, Aaron?” It’s as much of a threat as it is a suggestion, but logic isn’t my strong suit at the moment. Her hands finally leave her keyboard and come to rest on top of some papers on her desk, her piercing eyes trained solely on me. Normally, this is where I’d be tempted to gulp, make a witty comment to cover my own ass and diffuse the tension, then peace the fuck out, but I’m far from normal right now.
“This,” I repeat, swinging the phone in her vicinity again. “This fucking profile for Gemma on Tinder that I caught half the crew circle jerking to. I know it was you. She’d never do this shit on her own.”
“Why’s that, Aaron? Did you think you had some sort of claim on her? Keep control over her life, her appearance, whoshe sees? Did you make sure to keep her from dating, connecting with her feminine side and allowing herself to partake in the most simple of human pleasures? While you hooked up with whichever model slash actress caught your eye that week?”
Venom surges up my throat at her implications. Her accusations are ridiculous.Of course I didn’t hold Gemma back from dating, from, from, from?—
“Fuck you, Alex.” I spit the words out with more contempt than I’ve ever heard from my own mouth before.
Infuriatingly, she scoffs a laugh at my response, like I’m the ridiculous one here. “Fuck me? For helping her feel more comfortable in her own skin? Giving her an ear to talk to? Introducing her to someone whoappreciateswhat she has to offer? No, Aaron. Fuckyoufor having that literal gem of a human being by your side for the last decade and not seeing the treasure you held in your hands. For taking her for granted all this goddamn time. You had no idea the value of the loyalty, the friendship you two shared, and you fucking threw it away in a couple of tantrums when you got your dick all twisted up because you’re a fucking idiot where it comes to her. Don’t you go blaming this on anyone else but you, buddy.”
Her eyes areburningwith the words, like she’s been absolutely dying for the chance to spill them. “You. Made. Your. Bed.” She enunciates each word on its own, and somehow that makes her sentiments pierce through my armor of anger, landing in that same roiling spot in my stomach that I associate with the lack of Gem in my life, and the events that led up to her departure. “Nowfuckinglie in it.”
The dismissal is clear in her tone, but I’m not done here.
“How dar?—”
In one swift motion, she slams her palms down on the desk, shoves her chair back and away from her, and stands to face me, braced with her hands still on the desk, arms extended.I can honestly say that I’ve never realized how terrifying she is until this very moment. I’ve mentioned before that she’s a beautiful woman, but it’s more than her looks that demands attention. She has this inherent command, this innate control of everything around her, and right now, I feel all of it trained on me. Now’s the time that gulp finally makes an appearance, and I try to absorb her words this time rather than just fight them.
“You listen to me, Aaron. I’m not taking the blame foryourmess thatyoucreated because you’re too blind to see what is right under your goddamn nose. I used to think I liked you all right, and Ireallycare for that girl, but you’ve got a lot to realize if you’re going to try to get her back in your life.”
She makes it sound like Gemma is completely out of my life.
That’s ridiculous.
Sure, we’ve never fought like that day before. And, yeah, we’ve never gone this long without talking, but she’s cooling down, cooling off. Probably shacking up with Steven or whatever his name is, and when they fall apart, she’ll snap back to her old self, and we’ll get back to normal. Or, as normal as we can be with Kayla in my life now. But, normal-ish, you know? Talk shit out, we’ll both admit we were wrong, and figure out a new routine that works for everyone moving forward.
My eyes have zoned out, staring at the emptying parking lot outside the short window of her office as I talk myself through this scenario, and she snaps a few times in rapid succession to regain my attention on her.
“You are so fucking oblivious to your own situation, Aaron.”
“What situation?” I spit the words out individually, emphasizing each syllable. My breaths are coming heavier again as I’m seething at the condescension in her tone.
“I’m not going to spell it out for you. You can figure it out yourself. But if you think there was nothing between you two but friendship, your head is farther up your ass than I thought.”
Someone other than me might describe what my mouth is doing right now as sputtering, but I have more self-respect than to call it that. My irritation wins out, freeing the words from my mouth. “Just spit it out, Alex. Cut the shit. What are you saying? She’s got a thing for me or something? She got jealous of Kayla and couldn’t take it, or what?”
Her dark eyes narrow on me at my deduction. “No one haseverhad purer intentions for another individual than that girl has had for you. Your best interests have always been first and foremost in everything she did. But you and Gemma have never just been friends.” She makes air quotes on the words. “What was between you two practically blinded me the first time I met you. You have to be the only one who’s ever met you guys who doesn’t see how goddamn lucky you are.”
That’s what does it for me. Like a blow in a fight sequence I fucked up my choreography on, didn’t sidestep in time, my head snaps back.
In seconds, my entire existence is reframed.
