When I have no tears left, I just rest my head against Ben's shoulder while he rubs my back. I wonder how my mom didn't hear Ben's voice, but I also don't have it in me to care.
"When are you going to tell me what happened?" Ben says.
I think for a second. There's no way to get around this anymore, yet my reaction is still to joke.
"Mmm...Never?" I say. He puts his hands on my shoulders and removes me from resting on him so he can look me in the eyes.
"You can't keep hiding."
"I know I can't Ben. I just don't know how to say the truth." I can't hold eye contact with him, and look away quickly. What I told him is honest, I don't know how to explain everything. I don't know what this moment means for me going forward.
He's silent and doesn't respond to what I said, I guess expecting more from me. I fumble with what to say next, the ringing in my ear from silence overpowering and disorienting.
"My mom's still in her room." I rub my shoulder with my hand. "Thanks for..." I trail off, not knowing what to say. Not yelling at me for hitting you? Allowing me to cry all over your T-shirt? I look at his T-shirt and see a wet spot, making me cringe.
"Thanks," I say again. "But maybe you should go home now."
"I’m not leaving.”
“Why not? You see this mess. I need to clean.”
“But why is this mess here? Why are you always trying to hide things from me?” He’s right, I am always trying to hide things. He’s seen this explosive mess, and I still want to pretend that I can hide from him. I breathe out deeply, looking around myself again at the heaps of junk. Looking at it sends me down, makes me want to spill my guts, so I bite my lip, sigh and prepare to do that. But when I open my mouth, no sound comes out.
“Can we go down to your car? I can’t think with this mess.” He nods quickly before standing up, lending a hand to me to stand up too.
“Do you want to grab anything before you leave?” Ben asks. The question confuses me, because it’s not like we’re not coming back. I didn’t really think about whether I would sleep here tonight or not. It’s my home, where else would I go? But with what's happened, I’m not sure I do want to stay here tonight. I just grab my phone though, in case my mom texts me. After her breakdown, I’m not sure why I would think she would, but I do anyways.
The ride down the elevator is quiet, maybe awkward for Ben but not for me because my head is rushing. Since we’ve known each other forever, there’s never an awkward silence to fill with us. Even now, I’m not worried that it’s awkward, mostly just worried about the truths I’m about to tell. The walk to his car is quiet too, with just the sounds of our shoes against gravel.
He unlocks, settling into the drivers side while I get into the passengers.
“My mom did that,” I say finally, breaking the silence.
He peers over at me, the look on his unreadable. It’s strange not to be able to tell what he’s thinking. I know him better than anyone. I’m supposed to know what all the little changes in his face mean.
I swallow after he doesn’t respond, pushing forwards.
“She doesn’t get out of bed a lot. But-but it’s not that big of a deal," I lie, still feeling like this secret must be kept.
“Winnie. It can’t not be that big of a deal.”
“Maybe it is. I was worried about her, but I swear she was getting better.”
“How long did she… Not get out of bed?” He says like he doesn’t understand what I mean by not getting out of bed.
“Basically since my dad died.” I don’t say that he died out loud, ever. He did, and everyone knows it, but saying it always feels weird. The words don’t shock Ben though, he just looks upset, maybe. “She’s depressed, but it’s bad Ben. It's hard to say out loud how bad.”
He licks his lips. "Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s embarrassing. I always told myself it wasn’t permanent either. That she’d get better. And for the past while, she has been doing better, but she lost her r-ring an-and….”
He stares at me, his eyes filled with so many things that he can’t say, communicated with just a look. I find myself leaning closer to him, to catch his comforting lemon scent and be in his arms again.
“She tore the apartment apart while looking f-fo-for for for,” I say, the next words not coming out of my mouth without a struggle “For the stupid ring!” I say frustrated, my stutter finally letting off for a minute so I can push the sentence out. “She ripped everything apart for that stupid fucking ring!” I cry, tears slipping from my eyes. My voice sounds whiny and I hate it. “She threw all my shit everywhere! She left it for me to clean up! She broke down and she slapped me before-before b-before storming out to go back to bed like she always does!” Tears rush through me like a child throwing a tantrum, soft whines ripping from my throat even though I don’t want them to. It’s embarrassing, just like how the truth about my life is. He stays still, breathing in and out, I’m sure not knowing what to do next.
I try to stop the flow of tears, biting on my lip.
“I told you to stop doing that,” He says gingerly but it just makes me bite harder. Just like that day on the beach though, he leans forward, catching my tear soaked face with his hand. He runs his thumb over my skin softly, staring at the motion it makes and the skin it touches. He touches my lip, rubbing gently before tugging it away from my teeth. I want to feel like there isn’t a giant weight on my chest, like I can finally breathe, so I lean into his touch. Ben leans forward too, placing a kiss on my forehead. Like a simple glance from him does, the light graze of his lips tells me so many things that can’t be said out loud. So many things that I understand because I understand Ben. Because he’s my favourite person, because we're each other's best friends since forever. I place my head on his shoulder, both of us facing forward. It’s quiet for a bit, but nice. It gives me a minute to finally breathe, because I feel like I can now.
“Why didn’t you tell me how bad your mom’s depression was?” He whispers.
“It’s hard. Saying it out loud made it real. And I feel ashamed to say it, but I was embarrassed. I still am.”
“But I’m your best friend.” I don’t respond for a second, my teeth itching to bite on my bottom lip, but I don’t do it.
“We’re more than that now though, right?” I say nervously.
“Oh ya, I forgot,” he says sarcastically, causing us both to giggle. It’s probably the first time I've smiled today. He sticks his face in my hair, whispering, “We’re more. I love you just as much as I did before though. You always could have told me.” The word love makes my mouth go dry. He doesn’t mean it in that way, but it makes me think about that way. Of course Ben loves me, and I love him, but do I love him in a way that’s… more?
“I love you, Piglet,” I say softly. I feel it in the air, that neither of us know what I mean by that. I say it in a way to mean, as my best friend, I love you. But is there an edge in those words that means more?
“I love you too, Winnie,” he says against my hair. “And we’ll figure out what to do about your mom. Don’t worry about it, for just a second.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it when you get up. And I’ll still be here, I’ll always be here, y’know. Because you're Winnie and I’m Piglet,” Ben says with a small laugh.
“Best friends forever.”
“Forever,” he repeats, his breath tickling my ear, and I know he means it.
Forever best friends, but now something more. Something that sometimes scares me, but somehow seems to save me too.
YOU ARE READING
Better Kept Secret
RomanceElowyn "Winnie" Smith met Ben when she was 4 years old. They've been best friends since they were 6. After her dad died when she was 13, he was the only person she wanted to talk to. He should know everything about her, shouldn't he? But he doesn'...
