“No, Dill, help me,” Travis whispered. “We’ve been friends for longer.”
“Yeah, but I keep Dill from looking like a dingus. Come on, Dill. I suspect Travis is texting a secret girlfriend. We need to know about this.”
Dill tried to look happy and play along, but he wasn’t succeeding. And seeing Lydia and Travis, apparently without a care in the world between them, horsing around while he basically got accused of being a child molester, was more than he could handle. “No, I’m good. I need to use the Internet while I have the chance.”
He gave his library card to Ms. White and took a computer. He didn’t actually need to use the Internet so much as he needed to not be near happy people.
He told himself that he wasn’t consciously looking for an excuse to ruin Lydia’s mood. He told himself that it was a bad idea for him to read Lydia’s blog at that moment. So that’s exactly what he did.
Resentment grew in him as he read post after post.
I’m so excited for college. I’m so excited to leave all this behind. I have no friends so I spend all my time alone writing cool blog posts and vintage shopping and taking pretty pictures. Nope, I don’t have a single friend. At least no one worth mentioning. No one I’m not embarrassed to mention.
By the time he logged off and got back to where Lydia and Travis were sitting, Lydia was back working on her computer, and Travis was back texting.
“Dill! I got his phone. He’s been texting someone named Amelia. Travis has a girlfriend, dude.”
Travis blushed and he scowl-smiled. “No I don’t. She’s just a friend from the Bloodfall forums.”
Lydia turned to Dill. “I think Travis has Bloodfallen for this girl. See what I did there?”
Travis began to protest. Dill tried to laugh, but the rising black dome of rage pushing up through his chest and lungs cut him off. “Yeah.”
Lydia sat for a second, her mouth agape, her hands outstretched in front of her. “Dude. Come on. We have the chance to tease Travis about a girl and you’re just letting it fly free like a dove.”
And then the black dome of rage burst and hot lava flowed through him. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay.”
“Just curious. How come you have never once mentioned either Travis or me on your blog? Are we that embarrassing to you?”
Lydia’s good cheer crumbled away in an instant. She stared at Dill with an acid expression. “I’m sorry, do I owe you an explanation for what I say or don’t say on my blog?”
Dill tried to affect a casual, who-cares tone, with little success. “No. I just think it’s sad you have friends you’re embarrassed by. That’s all.”
Travis, who had clearly been pretending to be absorbed in his texting, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Dill, come on. Leave me out of this. I don’t care.”
Dill glared at Travis. “Sure, dude. Take her side like thirty seconds after she was trying to embarrass you.”
“I just think you’re being rude. I—”
Lydia cut off Travis’s response. “What’s this about, Dill? Why have you chosen this exact moment to bring this up? After years of being friends.”
“Oh, we’re friends? Sorry, I only read your blog so I didn’t know you had any. I told you. Just curious.”
“Horseshit.” She was no longer whispering.
“All right you three,” Ms. White called over. “I warned y’all once. Y’all need to take your discussion outside.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, slammed her laptop shut, yanked the plug from the wall, and started shoving things in her bag. “Thanks, Dill.”
“You’re welcome.”
They left, hanging their heads, avoiding eye contact with anyone. They got to the parking lot and formed a circle behind Lydia’s car.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Dill said. “How come you’ve never once mentioned us?”
“I answered your question with a question. What makes you think you’re entitled to be mentioned?”
“I don’t think I’m entitled to be mentioned. I just think I’m entitled to be treated like a real friend you’re not embarrassed to know.”
She popped open the hatchback and put her bag inside. She stood there with her hand on her hip and gestured for Dill to throw his in too. “Get in so I can finish tearing you a new asshole.”
“I’m parked over here. Y’all, please stop fighting,” Travis said. “It’s not worth it.”
Dill and Lydia both glared at Travis.
Travis’s voice took on an angrier tone than Dill had ever heard before. “Y’all are ruining my good day. I already have enough people to ruin my good days; I don’t need you two doing it. Just stop.”
Lydia squared off her five feet, two inches against Travis’s six feet, six inches. “Look, Travis, we’re going to work this out. Until then, please butt out, okay?”
Travis threw his hands in the air. “Okay. Whatever.” He walked away.
Dill and Lydia got in her car. They sat there for a moment, not moving. Not saying anything.
“I mean, what do you even want?” Lydia asked finally. “I know you don’t care that much about fashion. You want a bunch of pictures of yourself on there or something?”
“No.”
Lydia pulled on her hair with both hands. “Errrrgh. So what do you want?”
“I want you to understand that you wear the fact that we live in a small town and don’t have many friends like it’s some fashion accessory. You can put it on and take it off at will. But it’s my shitty reality.”
Lydia’s voice rose. “A fashion accessory? Oh boy. Here we go.” She started the car, put it in gear, and pulled out of the library parking lot.
“Yeah. I read your blog. You love casting yourself as the misunderstood misfit with no friends in some dead-end Southern town. Very romantic. But you’ve got a ticket out of here. You’re actually totally fine. But your friends—who you do have, but never mention, by the way—are stuck.”
“Okay, wow, I guess we’re just gonna shift topics. But I’ll go with it. You are not stuck. You’re making a choice to stay. I’ve tried to convince you to get out. I’ve addressed all your arguments. But you think you have to stay. Whatever. It’s your life and I can do without your lame jealousy stemming from hating your choices.”
Dill’s voice rose to meet hers. “My choices? It was not my choice to have my dad go to prison and leave my family with a mountain of debt. You love talking about choices, don’t you? Pretty easy when they’re served up on a platter.”
“First of all, don’t pretend like you know everything about my life or that my life is roses. Now look who’s casting himself in the role of ‘boy from the wrong side of the tracks who’s misunderstood by blithe rich girl.’?”
“I don’t care that your family has more money than mine. I’m trying to make you understand that it really hurts my feelings that you not only pretend I don’t exist, you can’t wait to get away from me. It makes me feel worthless. I get that from enough people. I don’t need it from you.”
“What is your deal with viewing everything I do in the most unfair light possible? As if I’m out to intentionally hurt you in some way? As if I run my blog to hurt you? As if I’m leaving for college to hurt you?”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It is.”
“It isn’t.”
“Maybe instead of dwelling on everything I don’t do for you, you should think about what I do do for you. If it weren’t for me, you’d have sat on your ass at home a whole lot of nights, playing your guitar.”
Dill made a mock worshiping motion. “Oh, thank you, savior. Thank you for saving me. Sitting on my ass and playing my guitar is better than hanging out with someone who’s embarrassed by me and looking through me to the next thing.”
They pulled up in front of Dill’s house.
“We can certainly arrange for you to do that more often,” Lydia said, a frigid edge to her voice.