for, lover (Completed; editing)

Chapter 8

I'm halfway into a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie ice cream when Maddy and Ben walk through the door. Maddy's stumbling across the floor and Ben is barely managing to keep her up. They're both giggling obnoxiously, neither one of them acknowledging that I'm sitting here minding my own business before I got rudely interrupted by their shenanigans.

It is her place too. I can't have a giant stick up my ass just because I've had a bad day. Then again, we are in the middle of a dispute.

"I want some brownies. Let's bake brownies." She slurs and tries to force herself to the entrance of the kitchen but misses, slamming into the wall instead.

Ben catches her and straightens her back up. "Maybe we should go lay down." He suggests.

She shakes her head and drags her fingers down his chest. "All you want to do is lay down. I want brownies."

He chuckles and pins a strand of hair behind her ear, staring into her eyes with that same crooked smile he used to look at me with. This still feels abnormal to watch.

"We will make brownies when you can stay standing on your own. Come on."

He walks her into the bedroom and shuts the door behind them. I get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach so I rise to my feet and start walking that way.

Ben walks out after a minute and looks right at me. "What are you doing?" He asks.

I glance at the ice cream in my hand and point to the kitchen.

"I was just putting this up." I lie.

I was definitely going to finish it but now I guess I have to put it back in the freezer so I don't seem nosy. I walk to the kitchen and shove the pint back on the shelf. To my displeasure, he walks in behind me.

"What? Did you think I was going to do something?"

"No." I say flatly.

He crosses his arms and watches me lean back against the kitchen counter. I keep the distance between us a few feet.

"Yes you did. I can see it in your eyes."

I mock him by rolling them and push myself away from the countertop.

"Is that how lowly you think of me?"

I snatch the bag of cheese puffs from the pantry and undo the clasp around it. "I don't think much of you at all actually." I say.

"You're such a bitch sometimes." He murmurs.

"Likewise." I shove a puff in my mouth and walk past him out of the kitchen. I hear his footsteps close behind me again. "Stop following me." I snap without turning around.

He grabs me by my arm gently and turns me around. "Wait, seriously." He tells me.

I stare in his eyes for a second before pulling my arm away.

"I want to make it very clear that I would never do anything to hurt her. I would never take advantage of her like that."

"Why are you trying to convince me? Since when does my opinion matter to you?"

"You're her best friend. If I'm going to be with her, you're going to be around too. There isn't much I can do about that."

"She's mad at me right now anyway."

He licks his lips and looks off to the side. "She isn't mad at you. She doesn't like seeing you sad and she's really bad at handling those kinds of emotions."

"Yes, Ben. I'm very aware of Maddy's way of dealing with emotion. It sucks."

"Talk to her when she sobers up then. I have to run." He walks across the living room to the door.

"You're just going to leave me with her?" I shout.

"She's asleep! It'll be fine. Goodnight!"

He walks out, shutting the door behind him and all I hear from down the hall is Maddy puking her guts out in her bathroom.

I run down there and see her crouched down on the floor next to the toilet. I haven't seen her this sick from drinking in a good while.

I walk over and gently pull all of her hair out of her face as she relentlessly empties more of her stomach. I look away and keep a hold of her hair. This is how it's going to be for the rest of the night, I guess.

By morning, I wake up on the cold bathroom floor next to a steadily sleeping Maddy. I don't even remember falling asleep here or why I even let that happen. I push myself up to my feet and walk out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

If I had the strength, I'd attempt to carry Maddy to her bed. Maybe going to the gym can be my new hobby or something. At least it'll be more useful than other things I've been trying to force myself to like.

She'll wake up at some point and probably throw up again so it might be a better idea just to leave her in there. I had given her a pillow to lay on at some point last night that she's still buried in. I carry in a glass of water and set it down next to her. If she doesn't wake up throwing up, she'll surely be dehydrated at the least.

It doesn't really matter how mad we are at each other, seeing her sick like this erases my frustration for the time being until she starts to feel better. When she sobers up, I wouldn't mind trying to mend all this bitter air we left days ago. Maybe she'll come around and understand my reasoning for what I'm trying to do. Though it will probably be easier to explain if I understood it better myself.

My first excuse was being in love. I realized shortly after Miles left that love wasn't a good enough excuse to have. I enjoyed life with him for half of a year and wanted nothing more than to build with him because I truly felt the best I've felt in a really long time. I spent two weeks mourning the loss of my perfect relationship and tried to snap out of it but I just couldn't stop holding onto what we had for such a short amount of time.

It took even longer for me to realize that it wasn't the relationship I was holding onto. If Miles did do these things and he's some monster that Maddy and my mom have claimed him to be, I wouldn't want to stick around. No sane woman would want that.

Unfortunately for me, I'm too deep into getting closer to what actually happened to my old friend that I'm going to keep using my being in love as a way to convince others that him being guilty is still up in the air while I try to prove otherwise. If I thought he was guilty of these things and went looking for him anyway, I'd be pinned as an even bigger dumbass than I've already been projected as.

So far I'm not even remotely close to convincing my mother or literally anyone else that Miles didn't do these things even though there's not a lot of evidence of his supposed navy blue Pontiac. There's just the fact that he skipped town as soon as I called him out.

I'm not being oblivious and throwing out the idea that he may just be that awful person who kept my best friend's death from me. I'm still just really hoping all of this got translated wrong and Miles has a really amazing excuse for why he would leave again.

With each day passing, this idea is becoming increasingly unlikely.

Revised;