Life has been good to her, it seems.
And then she casually drapes a hand over her knee so the track lights overhead glint and gleam off the diamond ring. It’s a brutal reminder: she’s not my Kylie anymore. Her electric blue eyes fix on me, and then follow my gaze to her ring. “Oz and I—”
“Got married. I know, I heard. Congratulations.” I struggle to sound genuine, and I’m surprised by how bitter I feel, suddenly. Which is stupid. I’m not in love with Kylie anymore. I’m not. Right? So why do I feel this way?
“Ben—” she starts, her glow of contented happiness fading.
I hold up a hand, silencing her, and take a deep breath. “Kylie, let me get a few things out, okay? The first and most important is that I’m sorry. I treated you—and Oz—like shit. I was an asshole. I did and said things I had no place doing or saying, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I wasn’t the friend you deserved. I should’ve—I should’ve seen how happy you were with him and let you—. I should not have gotten all up in your shit about it. I didn’t give Oz a chance.”
Kylie’s eyes water. “Ben, of course…of course! I was hurt, yeah. I mean, you were so angry and I didn’t get it, not until you told me—” She breaks off, glances down. “Until you explained how you feel.”
“Felt,” I clarify. “Past tense, at this point. But look, I’ll be honest. I was an asshole, yeah, I own that, but I had pretty good reasons, I think. I’d been in love with you for so long, you know? And I’d…harbored it, kept it in, waited…at first I was waiting for you to be old enough to date, and then by the time you were I’d kept quiet about how I felt about you for so long that I didn’t know how to tell you, and…I was just plain scared. I was scared of you telling me you didn’t feel the same way, I was scared that if I just kissed you, you’d—laugh, or push me off, or just…I don’t know. Act like you couldn’t understand why I’d do that, you know?
“Most of all, you were my best friend and I was scared to risk that. I thought I had time on my side. You’d never been into guys, never dated anyone, and neither had I. Me, because I was waiting for you, and then holding out hope that I’d figure out a way to tell you. And then I thought I’d wait till you graduated and we’d go on this road trip, and it would just…happen between us, and I wouldn’t have to actually tell you I’d had this secret love for seven years.”
“Ben, Jesus—”
“Hold on. Just…wait. Just listen.” I fortify myself with more coffee, and collect my thoughts. “I waited too long. Oz showed up, and you fell in love with him. And I realized I’d lost my chance. I felt like my shot had been…stolen, you know? Unfair, I guess, since it was my own fault for being a fucking pussy about it, but that’s how I felt. And I was honestly worried about you, okay? You have to admit, based on what any of us—what I could see about Oz, it was scary. None of us knew him, none of us got to see what you did…what you do see.”
She nods. “I totally get that, Ben, I do. And to be honest about it, that’s part of the appeal. That’s part of what drew me to him. He was—he is—so different from what I’d ever known. He was a little scary and dangerous, and I’d always been the good girl, always been safe and careful and played by the rules and done the responsible thing. And Oz was a chance to have something different, to see a part of life unlike anything else.”
“I can see that,” I admit.
She wraps both hands around her mug and glances at me across the rim. Her blue eyes are shielded, guarded. “Ben, you said…you said it was past tense. The way you—being in love with me.”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry I had to take off the way I did, but I—I couldn’t figure out how to be happy for you. And that’s what you deserved. I cared about you, but your dad told me that if I really did love you, I’d do what was best for you, and figure out how to live with that for myself. And the only way I could do that was to get away. So I left.”
“Where’d you go?”
I shrug. “Everywhere. I spent a good year just…drifting. I would stop in a little town somewhere and find work and stay there for a few weeks or a month. Spent time in…oh, man…Iowa, South Dakota, Montana, Idaho, down the Pacific coast. I learned to surf in California, that was fun. I just drifted and worked and…honestly, tried not to think about you.” I can’t look at her as I explain this. “It was months and months of not thinking about you at all. Because that was easier than…missing you, and hurting over it.”
She lets out a little noise that’s part sigh, part sob. “God, Ben. That sounds like it was…”
“Exactly what I needed. It was lonely, yeah. But it was better than hanging around here and seeing you and being bitter. I never would have gotten over you if I hadn’t left. I couldn’t be sitting here talking to you if I hadn’t left.” I hesitate, drink some coffee, and watch the black liquid swirl in the mug. “It would have destroyed me, staying here.”
“And now?”
I shrug again. “And now…hopefully we can be friends. You look great.” I rush to cover that. “Happy, I mean. You look…happy.”
She smiles. “I am. I really am. Oz and I…it’s incredible. I’m studying music management at Belmont, and we’re gigging here in the city during the semesters and going on tour with Mom and Dad during breaks and the summer. Oz and Dad finally opened their classic car restoration business, and…yeah. Things are great.” She leans toward me. “The only thing missing has been you, Benji.”
I wince at that. “Kylie, I—please don’t call me that.”
“Benji? Why not?”
I shrug miserably. “I’m over the pain and the bitterness, but that…still hurts, I guess.”
But Kylie is far too perceptive to fall for that. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
“Sort of,” I admit.
She doesn’t respond right away. “You know, the thing I was the most upset with you about was the hypocrisy of being mad at me for being with Oz when you were with all those other girls.”
“I never slept with any of them.” I’m not sure why that comes out, why I tell her that.