“I was just so fixated on finding Jamie, the one from my memories, that Harry Styles could’ve been sitting there and my attention would have skipped right over him. Jamie looked… God, it pains me to say this, but he looked…”
“Yeah?”
“Incredible.”
A devilish smirk appeared on her lips. “Oh my God. Did sparks fly between you two?”
My eyes widened. “What? Are you crazy? I hate the guy. This meeting only reinforced that. We were at each other’s throats within minutes.”
“Damn. Okay. So what happened next?”
“I sat down, and he started by thanking me for getting him help when he ODed that night.”
“That’s good.”
“Sure, although he made it seem like it was a bigger deal than it was, but whatever. So then he got to his apology, and with each word that came out of his mouth, this slow realization started to spread through me. He wasn’t apologizing for messing with Oliver and I. He was apologizing for the kiss in the dressing room.”
“I suppose he may as well apologize for that, too,” Zoey offered, lifting her shoulders up to her ears.
“You’re missing the point,” I said, shaking my head. “He wouldn’t admit that he lied to me back then. He said that trying to keep me away from Oliver was the only good thing he did on that tour.”
Zoey rubbed the side of her neck. “Did he say why?”
I scoffed. “Just the same lie as before. That Oliver is manipulative, and that he was using me.”
“You didn’t probe deeper?”
“No, because I didn’t feel the need to. I know the feelings between Oliver and I were real. I’m as confident of that as I am of my own name.”
My best friend stared at me in silence.
“What?”
“Ivy, you were seventeen,” she began. “He was your first love, and he was also a famous rock star that you idolized from the moment you met.”
“So?”
“Can’t you consider the possibility that you viewed the situation through rose-colored glasses? What about calling Cole and asking him for his read on Oliver?”
“No. I’m not talking to him about any of this,” I said, rubbing my thighs. “We never even had an open conversation about what happened on the tour.” I was sure Ran had told Cole the gist of the story, but I’d refused to get into the details whenever Cole tried to bring it up in the past. Despite my hopes for the tour, it didn’t really bring my brother and I any closer, and while we enjoyed a good relationship, discussing any of this with him would be way too embarrassing. “It would be weird to call Cole now and start asking questions.”
“All right.” Zoey sighed. “Look, I’m not saying Jamie told you the truth, but after you came home, you said yourself there were certain parts that didn’t make sense. Like why Oliver seemed to end things because you called an ambulance for Jamie.”
“That’s not what I said,” I protested. “I don’t think that’s why he ended things. He was just upset that I didn’t listen to him and didn’t stay away from Jamie.”
“How is that any better? From the outside, a request like that seems pretty controlling.”
Indignation flared up inside of me. “He was just trying to protect me from his crazy bandmate. It was for my own good.”
“Okay, but then if he had your best interests at heart and reacted in the heat of the moment, why didn’t he ask to continue being in a relationship after you left?”
“He was busy trying to save his band. I don’t blame him for not prioritizing me in those weeks. And afterwards…” My chest ached, as it always did whenever I reflected on the dull, drawn-out pain of that heartbreak. I’d begged Oliver to meet me in New York or LA, but he’d always managed to come up with a reason why the dates I proposed couldn’t work. When I tried to call to hash it out, he didn’t pick up. It was always just messages, just strings of letters on a screen that often started to lose all meaning after I’d stared at them for hours.
I looked down at my feet. “I don’t want to get into all of that again. At one point, I loved Oliver, and I think he loved me, too. We aren’t together anymore, but I won’t let Jamie corrupt the good memories I have of him.”
Zoey ran her tongue over her teeth. “If you stopped putting Oliver on a pedestal, it would help you get over him. Block his number, Ivy. It’s not doing you any good.”
I closed my eyes. She just didn’t get it. Keeping his number wasn’t just a pathetic attempt at hanging on to the guy who’d stolen and broken my heart into a million pieces. That number was the last thread I had connecting me to the girl I’d been on that tour.
