“Yup.”
“Because you’ve been distant from me since the New Year. When we’re with everyone, things seem fine, but when it comes down to the two of us communicating, it’s weird.”
Oh. Great. Here we go.
“Sorry, you feel that way. I don’t.”
I do.
“Fine.” He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of water. “If we’re going to act like there’s not something more going on here, then fine.”
“Fletch, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to admit that you’re mad at me.”
“Mad at you?” I scoff, pushing myself off the couch. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Becca said that I was being an idiot and that you were upset that I didn’t confide in you about Caseyand—”
“Oh, so you told Becca about your relationship but not the person who’s supposed to be your best friend?” I cross my arms. “You went to a girl you’ve known for five minutes over one you’ve known for like fifteen years?”
Not that I wasn’t pissed before, but I sure as hell am pissed now. I didn’t know if I was angry at Fletcher for going out with Casey or if I was furious that he didn’t tell me it was turning into something more. But now I know. I’m pissed that the one person he should’ve turned to in all of this, he didn’t turn to.
“It wasn’t like that. And Casey and I weren’t in a relationship. We were… hanging out, or I don’t fucking know.”
I ignore the fact that Fletcher is talking about Casey in the past tense because I’ve had this anger building up for weeks. I don’t think I can pause this conversation to find out what he means by that.
“What wasn’t it like? You didn’t go to Becca to get relationship advice instead of turning to me? The person you always turn to.”
“I went to Becca because things were already weird between us. That night in the bar, you weren’t the Tate I’m in love with. You were different. You were cold and distant and—”
“Maybe because my best friend showed up at a bar with a girl who made my life miserable in high school, Fletcher. Maybe I was pissed that my best friend was so blinded by the fact he might finally get laid again to pick up on the backhanded bullshit Casey threw at me at the grocery store. Maybe I didn't feel— wait, what did you say?”
His words slowly sink in, and I don’t know how to feel about them. Fletcher and I have said we love each other many times in our lives… but something about the way he said it… felt different.
“Don’t do that.” His nose scrunches as he shakes his head, turning around and then slowly turning back. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I said.”
“You don’t do that!” It’s a stupid comeback, but I don’t know how to react to it. “You don’t get to come in here and badger me over this whole bullshit situation and then tell me I’m not the same girl you fell in love with. New flash, Fletcher, that stupid girl you knew in high school, the one who kissed you, got her heart broken. You don’t get to stand there and tell me I’m not the girl you fell in love with when you didn’t want her.”
“What do you mean?” He takes a step toward me.
I take a step back.
“If you wanted that girl, you would have her.”
“Tate.”
“No. It took everything in me, everything, to put that girl back together. So I’m sorry if the pieces weren’t put back together the way you wanted them to be, but she had to learn to move on and to do that, she needed to change.”
“That’s not fair.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip. “Youshut that down.Youshut us down. You don’t get to put that on me when I was all in.”
“All in?” I force a laugh, running my hand through my hair. “All in, Fletch? You laughed in my face. You—”
“I came to talk to you about that kiss, and you told me it was a mistake.”
I march forward, leaving mere inches between our bodies.
“You didn’t argue. Your response was so immediate, I knew—”
