To Love and Protect

Friends forever. Once upon a time, those words meant something to me and to Grace. Once upon a time, those words meant that nothing would ever come between us. They meant that no matter how many part invites she received and no matter how many boys were chasing her down the block, she’d make time for me. Those words meant that no matter how many people spat at me and called me names and no matter how many times I was taken to the police station for physical retaliation, we would always have each other. Friends forever, to us, truly meant forever.

At least, until he came along. He was the one boy who didn’t have to chase her down the block. Grace followed him around like a lost, lonely puppy. She bought him presents and invited him to the movies. She called him every day and called me in tears when he didn’t call back. I never had the chance to call her. The phone line was always busy. But I was patient. I was her friend. Grace and I shared our sorrows and joys with one another. I was duty-bound to listen to her constant doubts about whether or not last weekend’s party was cool enough for him and to be happy for her when he’d finally replied to her emails. Grace was infatuated. But to be honest, I never trusted him.

As time passed along it’s winding path, I learned to tolerate him. To accept his presence in my life because no amount of wishing and hoping would send him away. Grace began to live for him and I was tossed to the side like an old tin can. But we talked, still. I told her how I cried myself to sleep the night my little sister went to the hospital. She proudly recounted for me the night he kissed her on the lips. For the first time, I saw Grace happy. Truly happy. Not just a butterfly in some horrifyingly plastic social whirlwind, but happy to be a human being. It was this boy. If he made Grace happy, if he wouldn’t break her heart like the rest of them, it was enough for me. Or at least it was enough until jealousy reared its ugly head and ripped my heart to pieces.

My phone stopped ringing. My inbox remained empty. I never saw her walk in through the front door in all those months because he was always with her, taking up her time and her brain and every bit of her that I once cherished as something special that only I had access to and understood. And all I could think about was how he even dared to act like he could take my place. Grace was my best friend and mine alone. Friends forever. I couldn’t let those words waste away.

It’s not like that, Sophie. We’re still best friends.

Why can’t you accept that I love her, Sophie?

He didn’t love her. I did. However late I realized it, it was true. I loved Grace with all my heart and nothing he did or said would stand in my way. I’d heard about love. They said it tore you apart from the inside. They said it wasn’t worth the time or the tears. They said there were no such things as happy endings. I didn’t care. He was a fool and a liar. He said he would take care of Grace, but he’d break her heart just the same. I was an idiot to have let him in so easily.

I retreated for a few days, planning and thinking. I would turn him away and out of our lives. I would repair the distant grey lines our friendship had become. I would let our friendship bloom and blossom into more, into love. Friends forever. He and Grace had no friendship, shared nothing but false delusions.

It had to end. It was coming to an end anyway. The lies I had to tell, the tales I’ve had to spin just to gain back the only ray of hope to grace my dismal world—I regret none of it. The elaborate scheming, the time it took—none of it went to waste. But I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I couldn’t bear seeing tears in his eyes, however much I hated him. He would have broken Grace’s heart sooner or later, but she was happy for the moment. I couldn’t bear to see him cry.

It was more painful to see Grace collapsing in the floor, crying into her hands at the lies I told. I made her suffer, just so I could put a smile on her face. Just so it would be me and not that scumbag she was misfortunate enough to love. But I loved her far more.

Did he really, Sophie? I can’t believe he’d just go! I can’t believe he’d just…leave…

I’m sorry, Gracie, really.

I was an awful, horrible person for lying to her, for telling Grace that he left her with nothing but a note saying he’d found another. But I really was sorry for making her that way. She didn’t leave her room for weeks, sobbing and sulking in the corners, tearing up photographs and staining her beautiful eyes with smudgy, running mascara. I comforted her. I baked for her and she rested her head on my shoulder and cried. I was there for her like he never was.

The day it happened, I remember leaving her house guiltily, with nothing but the plan in mind. I really didn’t mean to hurt either of them. The tears in his eyes as he left—it was horrible. I knew Grace’s tears would be a hundred times more so. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I did what I came to do. I said my piece. I did what had to be done and left his house with so many doubts in mind. But I don’t regret it. I was sorry for hurting Grace, but I don’t regret making him leave.

After I saw Gracie on the floor of her room, pale like a china doll and trembling, I knew I couldn’t let her find out that it was me. I would make sure she never found out, and then I’d heal her broken soul. He broke her soul and I would fix it. But I had to make sure she wouldn’t know.

I did everything to keep it a secret. I even washed the shirt I wore that day; I washed it over and over until not even the scent of the blood or his lips remained. I planted a tree too. So they’ll never find him. And so she’ll never know.

I’m sorry, Gracie, really.

But our love will have a happy ending. We’ll be together forever. Friends forever.