Tear Best Friends Apart

It’s been a week. Seven days since one of my wildest dreams came true. Seven days since Alex and I kissed. Seven days.

The past seven days have been fairly boring. Alex is avoiding me like the plague. When we hang out, it’s always with Jack and Marla, like the old days. If they make other plans Alex backs out, refusing to be alone with me.

I can’t lie. It hurts. We kissed and he is determined to pretend it didn’t happen. I’ve tried many times to talk to him, to ask him what it meant, why he kissed me. But every time I try to get him alone he bails. Needless to say, I’ve spent a lot of time in my room, alone.

I haven’t told anyone about the kiss, not even Marla. She’s been too caught up in Jack to notice the change in my demeanor. She was willing to keep secrets from me, so why couldn’t I keep one from her?

Jack, on the other hand, had noticed. He had been bugging me helplessly about what was bothering me, and it got more awkward every time. Especially when he asked when Alex was around.

“Elena, come on, tell me what’s going on,” Jack begged me.

We were in the basement once again. Marla had taken a turn at the game on the screen, battling against Alex. Jack, after giving up his controller to his girlfriend, had found a place by my side. I sat with my legs pulled to my chest, chin resting on my knees, as I watched my friends interact.

My so-called best friend had been pulling away from me as she became closer with her boyfriend, my brother, and Jack’s best friend had been ignoring me whenever possible. Instead of confessing my problems to my older, nosy brother, I lied.

“Nothings wrong, Jack. Just leave it alone,” I stated flatly, my dull eyes fixed on Alex.

“That’s crap and you know it,” he cut in loudly.

Everything around me stopped. The game on the television was paused. All heads turned to Jack and I. Marla looked taken aback by Jack’s outburst, and I wasn’t surprised. I had no doubt she knew anything was in fact wrong. Alex looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, his eyes darting back and forth between my brother and me.

I sighed loudly, pushing myself off the couch and walking past my friends. Alex tried to stop me by grasping my wrist, but I turned to glare at him, causing him to drop his hand and allow me to make my dramatic exit.

As I walked up the stairs and down the hall, I could hear the conversation-taking place without me.

“Fuck!” Jack exclaimed, causing me to almost jump. I knew I had been hurting him by not confiding in him. He was a worrywart, and not being able to fix my problems upset him.

“Dude, calm down,” Alex said quietly.

Jack ignored his comment. “Marla? Do you know what’s up with Elena?” he asked, softer this time, although you could still hear the distress in his voice.

“No.” I barely even heard her reply she said it so weakly. “But maybe I should go talk to her.”

And that she did. I rushed to my room, not wanting her to know I had been listening in on their worry-fest, and lied down on my bed. Marla pushed the door open slowly, tentatively. I just stared at the ceiling, while she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “I honestly couldn’t tell anything was wrong.” I nodded my head, telling her I knew that much. “I, uh. I haven’t really been a good friend, have I?”

At that I turned my attention to her sad eyes. We sat like that for a moment before I attacked her with a hug. And just like that we were okay. We were friends again. Best Friends.

That day I told Marla about Alex and I. How close we had become as friends up until that Saturday. I told her about the kiss and how we haven’t really spoken since. She was surprised to say the least, but the smile that crept onto her face told me how happy she was that I had gotten what I wanted up until that point. She was proud that I had gotten closer to Alex. She wanted to gossip about the kiss-for me to tell her every detail-like good girlfriends would do.

Finally, she gave me advice. Much needed advice. She told me to go after what I wanted, that if I didn’t I would never know and forever ask ‘what if.’ I couldn’t argue much with her logic. It had worked for her after all. And I had grown up with the mentality that life shouldn’t have ‘what ifs’ or ‘what could have beens,’ it should be full of facts and memories of what has happened.