Page 34
Story: You Will Never Be Me
What am I fucking up?
Everything. But more specifically, everything that has to do with Aspen.
Why?
The answer is cruel in its simplicity. Because I got jealous.
I could tell myself over and over that it’s because Aspen went from being my best friend to ditching me, but I can’t ignore the truth any longer. It’s because she was behind me for the longesttime. My little follower. Then she caught up to me somehow, then she surpassed me. And that, I could not accept. Especially not when she flaunted all of the perks that came with being in her position: The famous new friends. The exclusive parties. The glitz and glamour of it all.
Yes, maybe Aspen could’ve been kinder. Maybe she could’ve been a little bit more inclusive, but I knew it wasn’t all on her. She was trying her best; I see that now. But for the past few months, I’ve let my insecurities blind me. Because I was jealous. Simple as that. What an ugly sight I am. I’ve always prided myself on being a great friend—someone who reached down into the dust and found Aspen and dragged her up into the light. But now I’m seeing myself in the light, and I hate it. I see everything I’ve done in the past few months.
I stole my goddaughter’s iPad. I wrecked Aspen’s calendar. I stole her meetings. I turned people against her. I kissed her husband. And, even before all that stuff with the iPad, I had created troll accounts to incite hateful responses to her posts. What kind of friend would do that? My envy has turned me monstrous. And now, guilt flattens it, pounding at the jealousy and anger until it crumbles into ash; then the guilt overwhelms everything else, choking all of my senses with it. Tears stream down my eyes as I drive.
When my phone rings, it startles me so badly that I actually yelp and swerve to the side of the road. I hit the brakes and rummage through my bag for it. An unknown number. I’m about to hit Reject when something overcomes me, and I pick it up.
“Mer? Please don’t hang up.”
My breath catches in my throat at the painfully familiar voice. “Aspen?” I gasp. A sob shudders out of me at the weight of hername on my lips. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her. How much it had cost me to block my best friend from my life. And all that over what? TikTok followers? God, how I’ve missed her. “A-Aspen.” I force myself to take in another deep breath so she won’t know I’m crying.
“Are you okay? Are you crying?” The maternal concern in her voice brings about a fresh wave of tears that I have to fight back.
“I’m okay,” I say, then laugh a little because it’s obvious that I’m not okay, not even close. “I miss you,” I blurt out.
“Oh, Mer,” she sighs. “I miss you too. I’ve been calling and texting, but—”
“I blocked your number.”
She laughs. “I know. Hence me using a different number.”
There’s a short, awfully pregnant silence. A silence filled with a million unspoken thoughts.
“Can we—” Aspen clears her throat. “Can we meet up and talk?”
“Yes!” I say, and I don’t even care about how eager I sound. “Tonight? Maybe you could come over to my place, and we’ll talk. I’ll get dinner and—and prosecco?” What I wouldn’t give to go back to the time when Aspen would spend the entire weekend at my place, and we’d get drunk on prosecco and shriek-giggle over the stupidest shit.
There is a pause, then she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I would really like that. Um, do you think I can stay the night? I could really use a break from the kids and Ben. It’ll be like old times.”
This time, the tears that come are tears of joy. This is precisely why we’re best friends. Because our minds operate on the exact same wavelength. Just look at how she’s echoed my very thoughts.“Yes!” I cry. “Of course. I’ll have Luca stay at Clara’s for the night. And don’t worry about bringing food or anything, I’ll get everything. Just bring yourself.”
Aspen laughs. “Okay. And maybe don’t tell anyone about this? I’ve been going through so much stuff with Ben, and you’re the only one I trust.”
My cheeks warm with pleasure. Despite everything that’s happened, I’m still Aspen’s rock. The only person she can trust. “Yes, of course.”
“Hey, Mer?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. I really needed this.”
“Me too.” I’m grinning so hard when I hang up. Pure joy spreads from my chest to every part of me. Tonight, Aspen is coming over, and I’ll tell her the truth about everything, and then we’ll make up and everything will go back to the way it was. To the way it should have been. Tonight, everything will be put right.
16
ASPEN
Clara’s silhouette is so similarto Meredith’s that it gives me a shock as I near the house. The way she stands, the way she rests her weight on her left foot—it’s so eerily Meredith-like. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her, and I have to remind myself to inhale and exhale as I turn into the driveway. She turns to face my car, raising a hand to shield her face from my headlights. There’s a bundle in her other arm. Luca, I realize, with an ugly feeling in my stomach.
It’s a struggle to keep the smile on my face as I climb out of the car. “Hey, Clara,” I say, not pausing before I walk to the back door and slide inside to get Sabine out of her car seat. My thoughts are racing, my heart drumming a rapid rhythm: stay-calm, stay-calm, stay-calm. I take my time unclasping Sabine’s belts, gathering my thoughts and composing myself. When I straighten up out of the car, with Sabine in my arms, I turn to find Clara right in my face. I almost scream.
Everything. But more specifically, everything that has to do with Aspen.
Why?
The answer is cruel in its simplicity. Because I got jealous.
I could tell myself over and over that it’s because Aspen went from being my best friend to ditching me, but I can’t ignore the truth any longer. It’s because she was behind me for the longesttime. My little follower. Then she caught up to me somehow, then she surpassed me. And that, I could not accept. Especially not when she flaunted all of the perks that came with being in her position: The famous new friends. The exclusive parties. The glitz and glamour of it all.
Yes, maybe Aspen could’ve been kinder. Maybe she could’ve been a little bit more inclusive, but I knew it wasn’t all on her. She was trying her best; I see that now. But for the past few months, I’ve let my insecurities blind me. Because I was jealous. Simple as that. What an ugly sight I am. I’ve always prided myself on being a great friend—someone who reached down into the dust and found Aspen and dragged her up into the light. But now I’m seeing myself in the light, and I hate it. I see everything I’ve done in the past few months.
I stole my goddaughter’s iPad. I wrecked Aspen’s calendar. I stole her meetings. I turned people against her. I kissed her husband. And, even before all that stuff with the iPad, I had created troll accounts to incite hateful responses to her posts. What kind of friend would do that? My envy has turned me monstrous. And now, guilt flattens it, pounding at the jealousy and anger until it crumbles into ash; then the guilt overwhelms everything else, choking all of my senses with it. Tears stream down my eyes as I drive.
When my phone rings, it startles me so badly that I actually yelp and swerve to the side of the road. I hit the brakes and rummage through my bag for it. An unknown number. I’m about to hit Reject when something overcomes me, and I pick it up.
“Mer? Please don’t hang up.”
My breath catches in my throat at the painfully familiar voice. “Aspen?” I gasp. A sob shudders out of me at the weight of hername on my lips. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her. How much it had cost me to block my best friend from my life. And all that over what? TikTok followers? God, how I’ve missed her. “A-Aspen.” I force myself to take in another deep breath so she won’t know I’m crying.
“Are you okay? Are you crying?” The maternal concern in her voice brings about a fresh wave of tears that I have to fight back.
“I’m okay,” I say, then laugh a little because it’s obvious that I’m not okay, not even close. “I miss you,” I blurt out.
“Oh, Mer,” she sighs. “I miss you too. I’ve been calling and texting, but—”
“I blocked your number.”
She laughs. “I know. Hence me using a different number.”
There’s a short, awfully pregnant silence. A silence filled with a million unspoken thoughts.
“Can we—” Aspen clears her throat. “Can we meet up and talk?”
“Yes!” I say, and I don’t even care about how eager I sound. “Tonight? Maybe you could come over to my place, and we’ll talk. I’ll get dinner and—and prosecco?” What I wouldn’t give to go back to the time when Aspen would spend the entire weekend at my place, and we’d get drunk on prosecco and shriek-giggle over the stupidest shit.
There is a pause, then she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I would really like that. Um, do you think I can stay the night? I could really use a break from the kids and Ben. It’ll be like old times.”
This time, the tears that come are tears of joy. This is precisely why we’re best friends. Because our minds operate on the exact same wavelength. Just look at how she’s echoed my very thoughts.“Yes!” I cry. “Of course. I’ll have Luca stay at Clara’s for the night. And don’t worry about bringing food or anything, I’ll get everything. Just bring yourself.”
Aspen laughs. “Okay. And maybe don’t tell anyone about this? I’ve been going through so much stuff with Ben, and you’re the only one I trust.”
My cheeks warm with pleasure. Despite everything that’s happened, I’m still Aspen’s rock. The only person she can trust. “Yes, of course.”
“Hey, Mer?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. I really needed this.”
“Me too.” I’m grinning so hard when I hang up. Pure joy spreads from my chest to every part of me. Tonight, Aspen is coming over, and I’ll tell her the truth about everything, and then we’ll make up and everything will go back to the way it was. To the way it should have been. Tonight, everything will be put right.
16
ASPEN
Clara’s silhouette is so similarto Meredith’s that it gives me a shock as I near the house. The way she stands, the way she rests her weight on her left foot—it’s so eerily Meredith-like. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her, and I have to remind myself to inhale and exhale as I turn into the driveway. She turns to face my car, raising a hand to shield her face from my headlights. There’s a bundle in her other arm. Luca, I realize, with an ugly feeling in my stomach.
It’s a struggle to keep the smile on my face as I climb out of the car. “Hey, Clara,” I say, not pausing before I walk to the back door and slide inside to get Sabine out of her car seat. My thoughts are racing, my heart drumming a rapid rhythm: stay-calm, stay-calm, stay-calm. I take my time unclasping Sabine’s belts, gathering my thoughts and composing myself. When I straighten up out of the car, with Sabine in my arms, I turn to find Clara right in my face. I almost scream.
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