“So let me understand this,” Bri said, and I could hear the pain in her voice as well. “You want me to break up with Wyatt for you?”
“What am I supposed to do?” Toby asked, her voice anguished. “Am I supposed to still be your best friend and hear everything about this? Listen to you talk about how in love you are? I’m supposed to be happy for you?” Toby’s voice broke, and she drew in a raggedy breath. “I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head, just once, to either side. “I just can’t. And I want to be friends again, Bri, god,” She said, starting to speak faster now, the words coming out all in a rush. “I miss you so much, you have no idea. I want to be friends again and I hate that you’re doing this to us—”
“I’m doing this to us?” Bri asked. “What about you?”
I looked at Palmer, alarmed, and saw her swallowing hard. “Guys,” I said, looking between the two of them, “let’s not . . .”
“But this isn’t about him,” Bri said slowly, like she was hearing the truth of the words as she was speaking them. “You just asked me to stop seeing the person I love. Do you realize that?”
“What?” Toby asked, frowning.
“That is just so far from okay,” Bri said, shaking her head. “What kind of friend would ask me to do that? And what kind of person would I be if I said yes?”
“What kind of friend leaves me behind like this?” Toby said, her voice cracking. “You were only thinking about yourself!”
Bri just stared at Toby for a moment, then drew in a big, shaky breath. “I don’t think you know just how little I’ve thought about myself,” she said. “And now you want me to break up with him. So it’s easier for you.” Bri shook her head. “That’s not good,” she whispered, not even bothering to brush away the tears that had started to fall. “I need you to be happy for me when I fall in love for the first time, to want good things for me because you’re my best friend.”
“You knew I wouldn’t be happy for you,” Toby snapped. “Don’t try to make me the bad guy here.”
“I’m not,” Bri said, her voice getting more and more composed. “I’m just . . . This is the first thing I’ve done without you. Without consulting you. And that’s why you’re mad.”
“No—”
“Maybe this wasn’t about Wyatt, not really,” Bri said, talking faster, latching on to this and holding tightly. “Maybe we really needed this break. I mean, it was really hard, but it gave me some perspective. And now I think we can move on from it and it’ll be better. More balanced. Don’t you think?”
I held my breath as I waited for Toby to answer—it seemed like even the bus’s machinery was quieter.
“No,” she finally said, and I watched Bri’s face crumple.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, like she wasn’t just afraid to hear the answer, she was afraid to ask the question.
“I mean you’re right. Maybe we did need a break. Maybe we still need it.”
“Toby,” Palmer said, casting a worried glance my way, “maybe—”
“Do you know how horrible I’ve felt over the last two weeks?” Toby asked, turning to look at all of us. “It’s been the worst time of my life. And I couldn’t even talk to my best friend about it, since it was her fault.”
“I felt the same way—” Bri started, but Toby talked over her.
“I realized I don’t know who I am if I’m not your friend,” she said. “Like I have no idea at all. And that’s a problem.”
“So that’s it?” Bri asked, and I could hear the fear beneath her words. “We’re done?”
“Yes,” Toby said, her voice cracking. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”
Bri just stared at Toby for a long moment, then wiped her hand across her face, got up, and walked to the back of the bus, holding on to the empty aisle seats for support.
“We’ll be there in five!” Walt yelled toward the back of the bus, and Toby leaned over to the window and looked out.
“I need you to let me off at that Starbucks,” Toby said, her voice quiet but decisive, as she pointed out the window.
“Uh, Toby,” my dad said, frowning, “I really don’t think I can do that. I can’t leave you off in the middle of some strange town. . . .”
“I’ll call my mom to come pick me up,” she said, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “But I can’t be here any longer.”
Walt looked at my dad, waiting for instruction, and my dad shook his head. “Even so,” he said. “I don’t think—”
“If she can’t come get me, I’ll text Andie and you guys can pick me up on your way back to Stanwich,” Toby said, a firmness in her voice that was hard to argue with. “But I really need to get off this bus now.”
After making Toby promise to check in with us in an hour either way, my dad relented, and Toby got off the bus, crossing in the crosswalk and walking toward the coffee shop. The light changed and Walt drove forward, and in the glass behind Toby, I saw the bus slogan reflected as she slowly pulled open the door, her head down and her shoulders hunched. TOWARD THE FUTURE.