Heather and Raven

I Wish You All The Worst

It starts raining on the way home, which is just fucking perfect. It's that lovely type of rain that soaks you to the bone in three seconds flat. The best I can do is hope I don't look as pathetic as I feel. And at least now no one will notice I'm on the verge of tears. My phone keeps dinging in my pocket, but I know it's Raven so I don't look. Also, I'm not sure how much of the screen I'd see anyway in this downpour. At least it's still warm, I guess.

I'm literally about to walk onto the driveway when someone behind me calls: "Heather! Heather, are you alright?"

It's the last person I want to see today. Well, second-last. Raven's the last person I want to see. Justin is the second-last. Plastering a smile on my face, I turn around. Justin stands there in basketball shorts and with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as if there's not some semblance of a Biblical punishment falling from the sky. It's something I associate so strongly with my best friend that I suddenly don't understand how I could've ever fallen in love with him. It's like that new light I saw him in was like a Snapchat filter, hiding reality and all its flaws.

"What are you doing outside?" I ask instead of replying to his question.

I realize too late that I should've pretended not to hear him, because now he'll bring up what Raven texted.

"Could ask you the same thing," Justin says, shrugging.

"I went to see Raven."

I can't hide the bitterness in my voice, and Justin takes a few steps closer. "Yeah, I uh... Got a pretty weird text from him earlier."

My stomach makes a pretty sudden flip and I have to swallow hard to keep its contents down. Still, I keep smiling through the nausea and the upcoming headache.

"Not surprised. He's sick as hell after running around in that storm yesterday."

I know that if I tell Justin the truth, he'll lose his shit with Raven and I'm all for it. But telling the truth means telling him about the way I felt. That's the only reason I cover for Raven. Not because I fell in love with him. Absolutely not.

"Heather." Justin's voice is gentle but firm. "I've known you for a decade. I know when something is wrong. And I know we haven't really spent much time together lately with just the two of us, but you're still my best friend and I really want to help."

Why the fuck does he have to be so sweet about it? Because I stare at him, at his stupid, gentle smile and concerned eyes, and I just start crying. It's embarrassing and I want the ground to swallow me whole, but then Justin pulls me into a hug and it's still as comforting as when he did that when we were kids and I sprained my wrist falling out of a tree he dared me to climb. It's unbearable, and I push him off.

"Justin, don't," I say, stepping away and rubbing at my temples.

I can tell he's hurt, and I don't have it in me to look at him.

"Does this have anything to do with..." He hesitates and I'm praying he doesn't continue, but he does. "With what was in that text?"

I think about turning around and just going inside. Forget this ever happened and deal with my misery alone. But I can't bring myself to go through with it. This stupid scheme has lasted long enough. I look back up at Justin, take him in one last time before he inevitably hates my guts.

"Do you remember the Fourth of July? When we were talking about me and Raven?" When he nods, I take a deep breath and carry on. "And you said you thought I had a crush on you, and I said I didn't? I lied."

He doesn't look shocked or startled in the slightest –probably because Raven's text prepared him for this– and I don't know if that makes it better or worse. Because of course it wouldn't surprise anyone that poor Heather Clark falls for a guy in a relationship.