East Avenue
6
“You’re a freak.”
“Margaret, move.”
She wasn’t flawless all the time, I’ve discovered. When she wasn’t talking at me, and I could get a chance to genuinely look at her, it made me nervous. Our friendship has always been complicated, more so because it’s never been a friendship. A mutual connection, with Joey being the only thing that’s ever tied us together in any way. She cared too much, she thought I didn’t care enough. Sometimes she was right, I can give her that. I have the tendency to take advantage of Joey because he’s perfect, and he’s there. I don’t need to worry because I know he always will be. And Margaret doesn’t understand that, if I didn’t know any better I’d sense jealously but perhaps she’s incapable of complex emotions. Seemingly she’s scared to be capable. She doesn’t like that she’s readable, and I love that it bothers her. With her, it’s a different game.
And she was winning.
“Come on, fuck. Please move. I can’t-”
“Can’t what, handle it when someone ugly is this close to you?”
I didn’t answer.
“You’re a freak,” she repeated, same tone, same curl of the lip. “I don’t think you understand no one’s ever going to care about you the way he does. Think about it.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, leaned my head against the back of the wall. “You enjoy making things complicated.”
We stared at each other once more, she looked so small.
“Margaret, move.”
She wasn’t flawless all the time, I’ve discovered. When she wasn’t talking at me, and I could get a chance to genuinely look at her, it made me nervous. Our friendship has always been complicated, more so because it’s never been a friendship. A mutual connection, with Joey being the only thing that’s ever tied us together in any way. She cared too much, she thought I didn’t care enough. Sometimes she was right, I can give her that. I have the tendency to take advantage of Joey because he’s perfect, and he’s there. I don’t need to worry because I know he always will be. And Margaret doesn’t understand that, if I didn’t know any better I’d sense jealously but perhaps she’s incapable of complex emotions. Seemingly she’s scared to be capable. She doesn’t like that she’s readable, and I love that it bothers her. With her, it’s a different game.
And she was winning.
“Come on, fuck. Please move. I can’t-”
“Can’t what, handle it when someone ugly is this close to you?”
I didn’t answer.
“You’re a freak,” she repeated, same tone, same curl of the lip. “I don’t think you understand no one’s ever going to care about you the way he does. Think about it.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, leaned my head against the back of the wall. “You enjoy making things complicated.”
We stared at each other once more, she looked so small.