Page 58 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Going on my tiptoes, I check the peephole as Delta sits beside me, whining. For a split second, I think ofhim. My heart rate increases, and my palms grow damp.

But it’s not him.

I open the door, and Britain extends a large vase of flowers in my direction.

Tentatively, I accept the vase, expecting her to tell me they’re for Alex or some crap.

“I’m sorry,” she says. I stand, holding the flowers, with the door open, and wait for the rest. An explanation, something.

“Is that it?” I ask as politely as I can.

“Can I come in?” she asks. I hold the door and motion her in. “Is Alex here?” I shake my head no. “Already back from your hike?” She sort of laughs at the end.

“There was no hike, Britain. I was just trying to save you from being uncomfortable in my presence.” My jaw is tense, my molars grinding together, and I’m ready for her to leave.

“It’s…hard. To be around you. And it’s not because ofyou. It’s just because of who you are to him.” This sounds like a ‘her problem,’ not a ‘me problem.’

“I guess it’s hard to feel like it’s not because of me. You know?” Maybe she doesn’t get it. I bet she has whole gaggles of friends. Her wedding party was probably eight people deep, with a long line of backups. She gives off cool-girl, you-can’t-sit-with-us vibes in the worst way.

Britain rubs her hands together and shifts uncomfortably. “Jess is my best friend.”Well, fuck.“It feels like I’m betraying her even when you just…come over.” The pain in my throat is a full burn. My mind spins, recalling a memory.

That’s just some random friend who works for my sister.

God, you’re just so pretty.

Go home, Ella.

“She has short, dark hair. Really pretty?” Britain nods. “Okay.” That’s all I can say because…what? The fuck? I end up sucking my cheeks in, trying to hold back a tear. He drove us over there that day, knowing Jess would be there.

Did Blanks take me to dinner that night because he knew she’d be there too?

I almost forgot that I was here to makesomeone elsefeel like shit.

Does Alex even love me? Or is that to make her feel bad, too?

“I’m sorry, Britain. I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t stop existing, but I can stay away from you as much as possible.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry. That’s–no. Please accept my apology, and I hope you’ll please accept an invitation to dinner. You’re my family, too. And I’ve forgotten that. So, really, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Sure,” I say, mentally having checked out of the conversation.

“Okay…” she trails off awkwardly.

“I should get back to studying,” I point to the living room, where my textbooks are on the sofa waiting for me.

“Got it.”

I quickly set the vase on a side table and lead her back to the door.

“You’ll come for dinner sometime soon?”No.

“Definitely, just let us know.” I hope she’s just bullshitting because I definitely don’t want to have dinner with them. Wondering all night if they’re comparing me to her. The petite woman with flawless skin, classically gorgeous, who dresses impeccably. I look like a slob compared to her.Jesus.

I smooth out the front of my henley and self-consciously berate my tired leggings and shirt. What does Alex even see in me?Nothing. Just a means to an end, I suppose. I was just the wrong person in the right place at the right time.

“C-can I give you a hug goodbye?” Brit opens her arms awkwardly, and I move in for the most uncomfortable hug of my life.

When she finally releases me, I give a toothless smile and open the door. She gives a wave and a smile that looks like it clawed its way out of the dark to be here.