Best Friends Forever

Chapter Sixteen

A new predicament arose for me over the next few days. It wasn't very complicated and I was sure that once I found the bravery to do it I would get it done, but it still haunted me with an impending anxiety that weighed me down more and more as the days dragged on.

I had to talk to Dahlia.

There was really no other way around it anymore. I'd tried showing it to Dalton subtly. I tried making her see through my bullshit. The only thing that I hadn't tried yet was just outright talking to Dahlia and forcing the truth out of both of us.

The only problem with that was that neither of us knew how to be honest. We could be honest with each other, of course, but the world was a whole different topic of discussion. If we were in public, where we were in public, who we were around, her friends or mine, all of those were factors that played into the person we would be–and none of them were truly honest.

If only I could get her alone but not spook her off. And not accidently pull Dalton out in my attempts to make Dahlia talk to me.

I scrubbed my face with both hands before I set my irate stare back to the mirror–where I had all of my pep talks now.

Why does this have to be so hard? Why can't it just be easy? Like when we were...kids...

A dawning realization took over my face suddenly.

What if...? No. She'd think that's stupid. But...what if?

I watched in the mirror as I chewed on my bottom lip before I blew out a sigh and threw my arms up in defeat.

What the hell do I have to lose? And what's the worst she'll say anyways? No? Fuck off? I rolled my eyes. Even when Dahlia's at her worst she's not that mean. At least...she could never be that mean to me.

***

I spent nearly the whole workday thinking of how I would present my idea to Dahlia. Specifically, how I would translate the fact that I wanted the company of Dahlia and not Dalton. And then, the hardest task to accomplish, actually getting Dahlia to come out and see me.

Around the fourth or fifth hour of me constantly obsessing, I realized how silly I was being. All this dancing around and keeping up appearances was what I did with Dalton. I didn't act like that with my best friend, Dahlia.

I didn't worry about being careful and perfect with Dahlia. I could be a little antagonistic and a whole lot sarcastic. It wasn't that I cared about her feelings less, but I knew how to navigate them better than I could with Dalton–who was still an enigma to me for all intent and purpose.

I hoped that if I just acted like the Courtney that Dahlia knew, the one that didn't walk on eggshells constantly, then maybe she would actually want to spend time with me again. I could only hope as I walked into the empty break room, flopped down in an easy chair and dialed Dahlia's number.

There were always two rings before Dahlia picked up the phone. She never answered on the first ring and if it went to the third then I knew I was getting voicemail.

The second ring had just shimmered to a close in my ear and I breathed out a sigh of disappointment before there was a quick click right before the third ring began.

Predictable as always.

"Dalton's phone," she said in that gruff, put on tone she used for Dalton.

I rolled my eyes, thankful that she couldn't see me. "I'm actually calling for Dahlia. Could you go find her?"

There was a few moments pause on Dahlia's end that I hoped was simply a translation of surprise from my sudden request. The good kind of surprise that catches you off guard. Not the bad kind that fucks everything up.