“You need to call Reeve,” Audrey says, plonking into the seat beside me in the cafeteria, wearing a furious expression. It’s mid-November, and our sophomore year is well underway by now. I was the first to arrive at our usual lunch table, and our other friends are still standing in line at the counter.
“What now?” I ask, sighing in resignation. I know the angry look she’s sporting doesn’t mean anything good.
“I know you don’t want to be shown these things, but I’m keeping an eye on them for a reason.” She hands me her phone, and I almost vomit up my salad as I read the bold headline.
ARE REEVERON ENGAGED?
“It’s bullshit,” I reply in a dead tone, handing her cell back to her. I have zero interest in reading what supposed insiders on the set have to say. It’s ridiculous how easily the public has believed all the lies despite not a single photo existing where Reeve and Saffron are kissing off-screen. I know, because Audrey checks daily, and it would make front page news if such a photo existed.
“I know that,” she whispers, clicking out of the article and glancing around to ensure no one is listening. She moves her lips close to my ear. “But is it fake bullshit? Is this what they’re forcing him to do now?”
I bury my head in my hands as my train of thought catches up to hers. “Fuck.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Audrey suggests, smoothing a hand up my back.
I lift my head, willing the sudden throbbing pain in my skull to disappear. “If it is orchestrated, and Reeve has agreed to this, it’s game over. There is only so much pain a heart can endure.”
“If Reeve has agreed to this insanity, he can kiss my friendship goodbye,” she agrees.
I can’t even bear the thought of him going along with this. Hasn’t he humiliated me enough?
With a heavy heart and equally heavy feet, I drag myself out of the cafeteria and return to our place to call Reeve.
“Fuck this shit,” I say six hours later when Reeve still hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts. He must’ve seen the gossip online by now, or someone has at least told him. It’s blowing up all over the internet, and I’m at my wit’s end. “I need to get drunk. Let’s go to a party.” The great thing about college is there’s always a party somewhere. “I’ll call Danny. He’ll find us one to go to.”
Danny is an English major like me, and we met during our first month of freshman year and became instant friends. When we met, we just clicked. Danny’s that kind of friend. I held back a little at the start, fearful he was looking for something more than friendship. Until I found him kissing a guy, he confirmed he was gay, and I knew there was nothing to worry about. Reeve knows about him, but they have never spoken or met, because as far as Danny is concerned, I’m single. He knows about my past with Reeve, and I’ve played on my broken heart to extract myself every time he tries to set me up on a blind date. I hate lying to all my friends but especially Danny since we’re the closest.
It’s just another example of how Reeve’s career has impacted my life and forced me to become someone I’m not sure I even know these days.
Audrey and I meet Danny and his latest boyfriend, Lawrence, at one of the frat houses a few hours later. I’ve been knocking back vodka at our place, and I’m already drunk, but I couldn’t care less. Reeve is clearly avoiding me, and I’m done with that selfish prick.
The party is already rocking, and we waste no time entering into the spirit of things. Usually, I hate warm beer out of red cups, but tonight, I’m draining them like they’re lemonade. I desperately need to numb the destructive thoughts screaming in my head.
Audrey and I dance, flirting up a storm. Normally, I shove guys away when they approach me at parties, but tonight, I let them feel me up a little. Yet it does nothing to stem the flow of pain coursing through my veins. I draw a line at kissing any of them or doing anything else, wishing I could be like Audrey and take a hottie upstairs to bump uglies. I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t completely lost my moral compass, even if I have compromised my soul all in the name of supporting my boyfriend.
“Hey, babe.” Danny appears, extracting me from the arms of a guy with dangerous wandering hands. The room is spinning, and my vision is blurry as I slump into my friend’s arms. “Time-out.” Danny circles his arm around me, walking us over to an empty couch in a quieter corner. “Sit down, drink some water, and tell me what’s wrong.”
I throw back my head, laughing bitterly. “Fuck, Danny. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“At the beginning, babe. Start at the beginning.”
His concerned expression touches me, and I’m just so tired. Of all the drama. The unnecessary heartache and pain. Of keeping everything locked up inside because I need to protect all of Reeve’s secrets. My inebriated state has loosened my tongue, but I still know what I’m doing when I drop my walls, tear through all the lies, and tell him everything that’s been going on with Reeve and me. Including how his so-called relationship with the bitch is fake and how she attacked me and I retaliated the night of the premiere.
Tears are streaming down my face, and I’m hiccupping my way through part of my explanation, drawing inquisitive glances from several people, but I’ve gone beyond the point of caring. Danny holds me tight, ushering reassurances in my ear as I spill my guts. I break down in his arms as almost two years’ worth of pain seeps out of me like poison. I hear how pitiful it sounds. How pathetic it makes me seem to have put up with this shit and to still love him. But there’s a certain freedom in telling my friend. Briefly, I wonder if I should have seen a therapist, because letting the words fall from my tongue is cathartic, even if I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow.
After locating Audrey, Danny walks us both home, tucks me into bed, and leaves water and two pain meds by my bed before saying his goodbyes. I’m barely coherent at this point, and my eyes are closed, but I’ve a sense that he lingers, watching me from my doorway before making his exit.
20
“Babe. Wake up.” Audrey shakes my shoulders, and I pull a pillow over my face in a feeble attempt to drown out the drums playing a furious rhythm in my head.
“Go away.” I swat at my bestie. “There’s a death march hammering in my head, and I need to sleep for eternity.” I’m not ready to face this day yet, and I want to wallow in ignorance for a little longer.
“It’s after twelve, and I can’t keep this to myself any longer. Your phone is going crazy, and your mom called me. She’s threatening to come over here.”
“What?” That claims my attention. Whipping the pillow off my head, I whimper as pain rattles through my skull. My tired limbs protest when I pull myself up against the headboard. Pushing strands of knotty hair from my eyes, I work hard to focus my vision until Audrey appears less blurry. “She can’t see me like this. She’ll freak!” Mom knows I drink alcohol, but she’s always cautioning me to drink sensibly. She would be utterly ashamed if she saw the state of me right now.
“I think that ship has sailed,” she cryptically replies, handing me a mug of steaming coffee. “Drink this though you’ll probably need something stronger.”
“If it’s more bad news, I don’t want to know.” I blow on my coffee before taking a sip. “I can’t handle anything else right now.”
“This can’t wait, because I’m pretty sure the instant we step foot out of this apartment we’ll be accosted by paparazzi.”