“You’re not what? Betraying her?”
Roxy watches a couple swinging their way past us, then she turns back to me and folds her arms.
“Don’t act like you give a shit about Iris. This is about you, not her.”
“Excuse me? I do give a shit about her,” I respond automatically, although it’s a pretty harsh (and unexpected) accusation. “It’s about both of us.”
She shakes her head and smiles, but not a Roxy kind of smile. I’ve never seen this kind of smile on her before. I don’t like it.
“Have you for one second wondered why she isn’t here this weekend? Why I’ve been on the phone constantly?”
“Yes, I. . .” I pause, thinking back to Roxy telling my why Iris couldn’t come, but I can’t remember. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t tell you, or you didn’t ask? The thought hasn’t crossed your mind, has it? If you’d thought for a split second,hey, I wonder where Iris is,the question would have been outof your mouth. But you didn’t.”
“Why are you turning this round on me?”
“I’m not, babe! I’m just telling you things aren’t as clear cut as you make them out to be.” Roxy shakes her head.“You’ve had the whole weekend, but you’ve been so obsessed with Charlie and Vivian and this fucking competition you just didn’t think about it. Charlie did. CharlieandVivian both asked where she was.”
The mention of their names makes my cheeks flush and I’m angry with myself for letting them have such an effect on me, but I can’t seem to navigate through our conversation. I clench my shaking hands and clear my throat, trying to steady my voice.
“When have you been speaking to Vivian?”
Roxy rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“What exactly is your problem with her? Shehasn’t actually done anything to you, Eliza.”
“She hates me.”
“How does she hate you? Didn’t she help you on stage to enter the competition? Hasn’t she posted a load of gorgeous photos of you? The reason you don’t like her is because she’s made everything different, and you can’t stand change.”
I rub my forehead, unable to process a universe where Vivian isn’t my enemy.
“So. . . whereisIris?” I ask.
A flicker of sadness flashes across Roxy’s face and she looks at the floor. I finallyput the pieces together and just want to embrace her, so she doesn’t have to say it out loud.
“We broke up.”
“What?” I reach for herhand, but she steps away. “I’m so sorry, Roxy.”
“Are you?” she says, looking away from me.
“Of course I am! It’s just, since we arrived, with Charlie being here and—”
“Fucking Charlie!” she says, pressing her fingers against hertemples. “You’re not the only one in this hotel with a broken heart, Eliza.”
She’s just below shouting level now, and she’s shaking a little. I’ve never seen her like this before, and it’s the worst thing that’s happened over the whole weekend, probably even the duration of our friendship.
“I don’t have a broken heart . . . I . . .” I say, desperately trying to stop this from finally happening.
“You’re not the only one who lost him, babe,” she says, glancing at him. “I miss him too. I miss us.”
“I don’t . . . I mean, I . . .” I start, searching for the right words.
“You guys kissed, then he messed up. He realised he messedup, but you’ve been punishing him ever since. Can’t you see you’re punishing yourself too? And me? You hold everyone up to these insane standards so it’s impossible for anyone to live up to them.”
I shake my head and blink away my tears. Roxy’s right, I know she’s right. Charlie ghosting me was worse than if we had never kissed at all, so I pretended it didn’t happen. I pretendedhedidn’t happen, and I did the very same to him.
