Shoot Me Down

Part 2

Part 2

Seven Years Later

            I crouch slightly in the doorway, listening to my best friend and my boyfriend talking in her room. Listening in on conversations is a good way to hear things you don't want to. I know that, but it's strange he's in her bedroom. This isn't the first time I've wondered if dating Nakia's hot roommate is just stupid on my part.

            "The party doesn't start till seven," Caleb's voice, deep and masculine. A voice that usually gives me shivers.

            "But Bree will be over soon. I told her to come over early with the booze, and we'd get ready together." Nakia's voice holds a note of protest. "So you shouldn't be in here."

            A throaty chuckle, a wet smacking sound. Shock courses through my body. My arms feel tingly and my nails bite into the palms of my hands. Suspicions were one thing, but to have them confirmed like this...

            It feels like a giant fist has reached in and twisted my heart in an iron grip. It's difficult to breath. How could I have been so stupid?

            I grind my teeth furiously as anger and hurt fight for dominance. Even though my body is in shock, the rest of me isn't particularly surprised. Deeply angry, yes. But not surprised. Nakia's been my best friend since we were thirteen. I'm fairly certain she's always resented me, just a little bit. There's an air of rivalry between us. It's in her tone when she comments on some new extravagant thing my parents have bought, or tells Mom how nice the house looks.

  Some best friend she'd turned out to be. I blink back the tears that crop up. Caleb has always been too good to be true. And deep down, I knew that. The entire time we were dating I knew it. Every time I pulled out my credit card and paid for our date. Every time I insisted on buying him something. Every time I smiled and pretended it didn't bother me when he checked out another girl. I did it because I knew I could never do better than him. Subconsciously, I knew that Caleb was way out of my league. He's a solid nine and I'm on the shallow end of a five. When he'd asked me out I thought I was dreaming. Boys want Nakia. Tall and brown-skinned with blonde hair and flirty blue eyes. They don't want me, short and round and pale.

I'd never done much past hold hands until Caleb. It was different with him. For starters, he's a few years older than me, at least twenty-five. Something about him is thrilling and dangerous. He has that smoldering bad boy look to him.

None of that matters now though. It doesn't matter if I'm a five or a ten. I don't care what league he's in. I'm not about to put up with this.

 I square my shoulders, preparing myself to march in and denounce them both. Caleb is speaking again.

            "She's so gullible. Guess what she gave me the other day." There's a pause, and then Nakia giggles and I hear her clap her hands. "Oh good, so when are we doing it?"

            Doing what? What the hell are they talking about?  I try to remember what I'd just given him and when I do, a knot forms in my chest. I'd seen him yesterday and he'd complained I was in the shower when he'd rung the doorbell.  I'd given him a key to the side door so he could just let himself in next time.  Oh my God, what's he planning to do?

            "In two weeks her parents leave for another cruise. She told me herself."

            I go cold. The palms of my hands are sweaty. This can't possibly be happening. They can't be planning to rob my house. They couldn't do that to me, could they?

            My breath is coming too fast, and I hold it, scared they'll hear me. My stomach curls and I think for a moment that I'm going to be sick. This can't be happening. It all feels like some strange dream.

            Caleb laughs. "The guys are coming later to discuss the details. The haul from her house should be huge. Have you decided what you two are going to do?"

            "It's Bree's birthday that week," Nakia says, "I'll just say I'm taking her to dinner and a movie. I can't wait to see the spoils though, you totally have to text me as soon as you're done. I'm so sick of going over there and seeing all her parent's expensive stuff. And she acts like it's nothing."

            "You're evil." Caleb chuckles. "I like it."

            More wet smacking, and I try to stand up straight, feeling dizzy. I have to get out of here. I have to sit down.  I stagger back down the hall, clutching my purse to my chest, and manage to slip back out the side door without being heard. Outside I drag in lungful of fresh air, gasping like I've run miles. Tears finally fall. I force myself to walk around the side of the house, pass the fence surrounding the backyards, over the sidewalk and into the woods that separates the two neighborhoods. Habitually I avoid the river, zig zagging to the left so I won't have to go near it. Won't have to hear it.

            Stumbling blindly up my driveway I pause at the top, panting. My house looms like a white and green-trimmed stucco castle. Nakia's right, in a way. My parents are rich and we have a lot of stuff. But what the hell is any of that good for when people just use you? Pretend to be your friend and betray you. There's a sudden, sharp pain in my gut, like someone has actually stabbed me.

            The house is empty, huge and silent. My parents are gone for the weekend, some book signing or conference or something to do with Dad. I don't even ask anymore. My feet make no noise on the soft carpet as I walk up the spiral stairs to my bedroom. Pushing the door open I walk straight to my bed, slouching down onto the frilly bedspread, burying my head in the pillows. I cry until I can't cry anymore, then I sit up, and the wall length mirror on the other side of my bedroom reports back. Blotchy round face, frizzy brown hair, bloodshot eyes.

Yuck. And then there's perfect blond Nakia. I always compare myself to her. Now I resolve never to do it again. How many times have I wished to trade my pin-straight brown hair for her sun bleached, tousled beach look? How many times have I thought about fake tanning so my skin would look sun kissed to match hers? And how many times have I stared down at the bathroom sink after one of Mom's calorie filled meals and wondered if I could make myself stay skinny the way she did. I could never work up the courage to do that though. I'm glad I didn't.

 I may be short, "curvy" and pale, instead of tall, dark and skinny, but I'm not a horrible person. She is. My chest is so tight it feels like I'm having a heart attack and I'm gasping like I've run a marathon. Hysterics. When did I last have hysterics? My fingers are curled so tightly into my palms that the nails are biting at my skin. I realize I didn't know betrayal until this, that I've never known it. It would have hurt if I'd caught Caleb with someone else, we'd only been dating a couple months. But Nakia....

            I'd grown up with her. We'd spent nights tucked in the same bed, giggling over romance movies and whispering secrets to one another. When had she turned on me, and how had I missed seeing it? She was supposed to be my friend.

             The bottle of vodka in my purse is calling. Mom would be so furious if she knew I was drinking underage, but it isn't like they lock the liquor cabinet. The label might as well say "liquid courage". I grab the bottle and take a long drink, wrinkling my nose at the horrible taste.

            "Oh, yuck." It's like paint thinner and rubbing alcohol combined. But I tell myself I need it and force down another mouthful. I'm going back over there. I'll stand in front of Nakia and Caleb, hands on my hips, and tell them I know exactly what they have planned.

            Already I'm formulating the plan in my head. I have a few choice words for both of them.