The Notorious R(uth) B(arakat) G(rimaldi)

Chapter 48: The Penultimate Chapter

Ruthie pulled back and reached for the lamp, which illuminated her shocked face, fresh tears coursing down her freckled cheeks.

"No, Ruthie, don't cry," Gordon begged, smiling. "You know how much I love you." He reached for her. "You know how much I love you," he repeated when she scooted just out of his reach.

Ruthie shook her head. "You basically just called me a mean, self-centered bitch," she said, drawing her knees up, trying to make herself small. She wiped her eyes on her legs and leaned back against the wall. "I'd like you to go now, please."

But Gordon was shaking his head, smiling as he did so. He grabbed a pillow from the huge pile and put it behind his head, getting comfortable, even going so far as to cross his legs, exposing his bony ankles in his orange Garfield socks.

"No," he said calmly. "I'm not leaving until we talk, because you're so totally fucked up right now, Ruthie."

She opened her mouth, but he kept talking before she could say anything. "First of all, you're not mean," he continued. "Self-centered, yes, but we're all a little self-centered, you know? We're teenagers, we're supposed to be, it's our age. It's related to being conceited, though not exactly the same. But you're not mean, you've never been that, and I'd never say you were."

Ruthie was staring at her lifelong friend, too surprised even to cry anymore. The smells and sounds of food cooking drifted up from downstairs.

"What in the world are you talking about?" she finally managed.

"Look," Gordon said. "You've been through so much this past year. The messy break up with Brett, then the whole, first love passionate affair with Elliott, then the drama with Amelia, then Brett attacking you and Elliott, then there's the play, then you have me telling you I'm in love with you, then your stalker follows you across the country, then the boy you're in love with flies off to another continent, and all of this is on top of the huge pressure of pretending to your dads that you are exactly what they want you to be, and you always will be." Gordon turned to face Ruthie on the bed, and reached for her hands. "You know?"

Wow. Ruthie had never thought about it, but it had really been one hell of a year.

Gordo shrugged. "So it makes sense that you'd turn to someone familiar for comfort, I think. But I can't do that. And like I said, you're not mean, and you'd regret using me, which would mean our friendship would be over, and I'd hate for that to happen, I really, really would."

His voice had thickened on his last words, his grip on her hands getting tight.

Ruthie looked into his kind and beautiful eyes.

This was Gordon, her lovely, wonderful friend, the boy who had taught her to roller blade and blow a bubble with bubble gum, who had been endlessly patient with her always.

"Oh, Gordon, I'm so so sorry," Ruthie mumbled, crumpling into his arms and dissolving into tears for what felt like the millionth time in their lives together. "I am so thoughtless to you, and you always treat me like I'm a princess, and I'm sorry."

"Please, I treat you like you're a fucking queen," Gordon answered with a little laugh. "I worship the ground you walk on and we both know it." He rubbed her back. "And you treat me like you're my queen, too."

"That's not true, is it?" Ruthie lifted her head from his chest. "Oh god, Gordon, say it ain't so!"

"Shh, it's okay," he responded with a laugh. "You're a very benevolent ruler."

They sat on the bed in companionable silence.

"When's that stupid boyfriend of yours coming back, anyway?" Gordon finally asked.