From the Stars, to the Stars

From the Stars, to the Stars: Chapter Sixteen

I run to Jules's house, thankful my parents are both gone, unable to see me dash out the door. I have to see my best friend. I need someone I can pour out my angst to, and there's no one I trust like her . . . no one human, anyway.

"It's so surreal," I say, clutching the star-patterned quilt on Jules's bed to my chest. Jules says nothing, waiting for me to finish before giving her two cents.

"I thought love was all chocolate and chivalry, like what I have with Drew, except on steroids. "You know, you want to be together every moment of every day, that kind of thing. But it's not. It feels like a really unlucky arrow shot—not the corny cupid kind, but full on, 'THIS IS SPARTA!' 300 mercilessly epic. Her I am, pointy stick run through my rib cage, sharp end poking from my back, and someone has notched the thing up so it hurts twice and badly coming out as it did going it. It feels like fixing it will half kill me."

Jules frowns. "I'm not sure I can understand, not having been in love before. How do you fix being in love, and why would it kill you?'

"Because I'm going to have to give him up," I wail. "Even if I end it with Drew—which I know I should, because this isn't fair to him—Sebastien still has the girl he loves, so it's not like I can just tell him. But how am I supposed to keep hanging out with him, knowing what I know, now, and be normal? Normal has taken a bus to somewhere far away, and I'm screwed."

"Not the most pleasant feeling, I assume," Jules says, arching an eyebrow.

"Correct, as usual, King Friday. On top of that, I think I'm kind of in shock. Wait, no; shock would be better, because then I wouldn't have to deal with this stupid twitterpation."

My eyes prickle, the waterworks beginning. Jules pulls me over, letting my head rest on the squishy pillow sitting on the crook of one knee. She strokes my hair as I cry and complain by turns.

"He's like . . . like lighting. All lovely and brilliant white, but if he touches you, you're lost. When he kissed me,"—

"Whoa, there. Sebastien kissed you? Why am I just now hearing about this? Way to bury a lead, kid."

My sobs have settled into a soft little rhythmic hiccupping by now. "I don't want to think about it. Don't get me wrong (hic), I can't stop thinking about it, but I don't (hic) want to. I need one of those doctors from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. You think (hic) we could get the same effect by pouring some bleach into my ears?"

"Yes, that would probably work. Nothing like excruciating pain, followed by death to alter a memory." Jules says, her mouth twisted in a wry smile.

"Eh. Who needs a brain? I'm only using ten percent of it, anyway. Go get the Chlorox; I'm willing."

Jules grabs another tissue from the box on her bedside table, waving it in front of my face. "You've got bigger problems than preferring a vegetative state. How are you going to get Sebastien to accept you banning him from your life without telling him why? You're his best friend in America, he's not going to give in so easily. Not to mention Drew. Except, mentioning Drew, because Drew deserves mentioning.

"Drew's back burner for the moment. I'll get there, but in the meantime, at first I thought maybe I'd bawl him out so badly, be such a witch about the kiss, and how much it disgusted me that he'd leave on his own, and never forgive me, but he's so stubborn and got such an ego he'd never buy it, even if it is kind of true. I'm totally disgusted with both of us. We've betrayed two people who don't deserve it.

"Unfortunately, I don't have enough evil in me to pull it off, anyway. Plus it's all bull, because that's the coward's way out. If I'm honest, the best thing is just be fair to Drew, and then be fair to Sebastien. I can't guess why on earth he kissed me, not when he loves some other girl, who knows, maybe he was trying to forget her, but I can act like I've forgotten it. And what's the best way to do that? Pretend like nothing's changed, except do my best to get him on board with having a romantic relationship with her. If that's what he really wants, I can be the noble idiot who brings them together. He did it for Drew and me, and even though that was kind of different, it is payback."

Jules nods and waits, still stroking my hair as I babble on.

"Besides, who do I think I am? The first person to fall in love with her best friend? Please. Hollywood practically ran that trope into the ground in the nineties. Plus, just because loving Sebastien is backwards to the nth degree, it's like you said. I can't bear to take away his best friend from him, no matter how much it hurts. I don't know, but maybe it's a different kind of selfishness, not wanting to give him up even a little. Anything, as long as I can keep him close. I can learn to be strong enough for that.

*****

The next day, when I get to Drew's house, he welcomes me with a smile, and ushers me into his living room. He offers me something to drink, which I decline. I'm not exactly here for refreshments.

The first sign something is wrong comes when Drew leans in to give me a kiss, and I duck my head out of the way.

I tell him we have to talk, and he makes a joke about that never being a good thing, to which I give him a weak smile, and say, "No, it isn't," really quietly.

Instead of drawing it out I let him know right away that I'm ending things. Drew does not understand, and who can blame him? The only thing I can say to explain is that I only have "friend" feelings for him.

To him, this comes out of nowhere. Yesterday we were good, better than good. Today we're breaking up? Where is this coming from? Did he do something? Say something? Does he need to apologize?

"No," I say, scooting further away from him on the couch as he comes closer so he can grasp my hands in his. His hands are warm, strong. I can see both of his tattoos peeking from beneath the cuffs of his long-sleeved tee.

I hate this. I hate hurting him. I hate the lost look on his face, like I'm telling him someone has gotten really hurt, but he's not allowed to hear any of the details. I watch as his expression turns from one of confusion to one of frustration.

My own frustration is building inside me, along with a sick, sick feeling of having done something wrong, even though what I'm doing is the right thing.

"Because I don't want to string you along, Drew!" I snap, jerking my hands from his. "You're worth way more than that. Both to me, and in general."

"But I don't understand, Joss!" he says.

"I know you don't, and I'm so sorry, but there's nothing else I can tell you. I could say 'it's not you, it's me', but I respect you too much for that. You're wonderful. You're kind, and considerate, and you're generous and funny, and boy, you rock those piercings and tats like you were born to them, but those things, they don't make me love you."

"If I'm so great, why are you doing this, Joss? Why mess up something so good? Maybe you don't love me now, but it's only a few months. Love takes a while."

"Because it's not enough. I don't feel enough for you to think of it as romantic. It's not."

"If you don't even want to try then, what can I tell you? You've made your decision. If that's all you can say, then you should go, Joss. Get your break. I wish I could say come back when you've gotten things figured out, but you haven't given me enough to work with. Considering, I think we both need some time to rethink us. I mean, if you're so dead set on breaking up? It's a relationship, not a hostage negotiation.

"But you should know,I'm not waiting around like some love-sick puppy who wants pets from his mistress.I'm not saying I'm going to go out and start dating other girls right away,because that's not me, but if you do this, make sure you mean it, because whenit's over, it's over, Joss."