Page 12

Chapter 12

The one where Jeff can’t make it right.

“Open the goddamn door, Jeff!”

The pounding shakes my entire apartment, the sound reverberating through the walls and cutting through the tension like a blade. Every ounce of pent-up lust drains from me in an instant. Whoever’s at the door just ruined everything—I was so close.

Fuck, I’m pissed. Livid.

“Who the hell is that?!” Jamie asks, his voice shaking as he scrambles off the bed, now fully clothed. His wide eyes meet mine, panic written all over his face. “You said… you said you hadn’t done anything with anyone...”

That look hits me like a punch to the gut. Does he really think I lied?

“Jamie, I swear. I didn’t. I haven’t done anything with anyone,” I say quickly, yanking on the rest of my clothes.

“Then who the fuck is that?!”

“I don’t fucking know, Jamie! Okay?!” My voice rises, frustration spilling out before I can stop it.

He stares at me like he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, and it twists my stomach into knots. He doesn’t trust me. Jamie really doesn’t trust me. The realization cuts deep, sharp and cruel.

And it’s my fault. It’s my fault for how I used to treat this thing between us growing up—like it didn’t count, like it didn’t matter.

The pounding continues, even louder now, each knock rattling my nerves. My neighbors are going to call the cops at this rate. It’s the middle of the goddamn night, and the whole building probably hears it.

I storm over to the door, yanking it open, and there she is—Tiffany.

She immediately starts throwing her fists at my chest. It doesn’t hurt, but I shove her back, trying to create some space. Her face is red, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, and her words slur together. She’s drunk.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” she screams, tears streaming down her face as she nervously messes with her long brown hair. “I’m nothing to you! I’ve been nothing to you this whole time!”

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you even doing here?!” I snap, my frustration boiling over. “You cheated on me too, Tiffany! And you didn’t just mess up and kiss someone, Tiff—you went completely off the rails with it. So get off your fucking high horse!”

“It was a one-time thing! We were just friends, we were drunk!” she cries, her voice breaking. “It didn’t mean anything, Jeff. It was a mistake. But what you did to me, that wasn’t a mistake! You... you made out with a friend and then dropped me like we were nothing when you found out what I did. Like I didn’t even matter to you. Like you were waiting for a good reason to make it my fault. Like you never even really liked me. And what, another guy? You’re fucking heartless! I don’t even know who you are!”

I don’t respond, my jaw tightening as the memory of her hateful reaction to finding out I kissed another man resurfaces, stoking my anger like dry kindling. Is that what this is really about? She’s still spiraling over the fact that it was Jamie—and not some other woman?

I don’t buy for a second that what happened in her dorm room was a mistake. And honestly? I doubt it was even the first time. I’d had my suspicions for a while, especially when she didn’t seem pissed that I’d barely called her while I was away in Nevada.

Her gaze shifts, and she finally notices Jamie standing awkwardly by the couch, his face pale and his eyes wide.

“...Who the fuck is that?” she asks, pointing at him like he’s a piece of furniture. "Oh my God, is that him?!"

I glance back at Jamie. His expression has completely fallen, his brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. God, I hate seeing him like this.

“You need to leave,” I say firmly, turning back to Tiffany.

She doesn’t listen. Instead, she shoves past me, shoulder-checking me on her way inside. She marches straight up to Jamie, who looks frozen, like a deer in headlights.“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she spits at Jamie, her voice shaking with venom, the slur in her words only making her sound more unhinged. “You’re making a big mistake being with this idiot. A big fucking mistake. ”

She whirls around and jabs a finger at me, her mascara smudged and streaked down her face as she wipes her tears with the back of her hand.

“He’s selfish,” she snarls, spinning back to Jamie, who looks like he’s barely holding it together. “He doesn’t care about anyone. Anyone but himself!”

Before I can react, she grabs one of the fake plants from the side table and hurls it at me.

Holy shit.

I barely duck in time, the pot smashing against the drywall with a loud crack before clattering to the floor. Jamie’s eyes widen, frozen in shock, his body stiff like he doesn’t know whether to step in or run.

That’s it. I’ve had enough.

I grab Tiffany’s arm, yanking her toward the door. She thrashes and screams, clawing at me, but I don’t let go. This ends now.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake!” she shouts over her shoulder at Jamie. “He doesn’t care about you at all! He’s going to use you, just like he used me, and then he’s going to fuck someone else! He doesn’t care!”

Her words sting more than I want to admit, but I shove her out into the apartment complex hallway anyway. She swings her free arm, landing another hit against my shoulder.

“You’re fucking heartless, Jeff. I fucking hate you,” she screams.

“Then why the hell are you even here, Tiffany?” I shout, my voice cracking with frustration. “After everything you’ve done—after what you almost called me when I told you about Jamie? You need to quit it with the wine. You’re drinking too much, and... Tiff, there’s nothing else to say. I need you out of my life, so just get the fuck out!”

I go to slam the door in her face, but she catches it with her foot, shoving it back just enough to press her face against the crack.

“I’m here because you deserve to know what an asshole you are, you fucking prick,” she snarls, her voice dripping with rage. “You deserve to hurt like you hurt me. You can’t treat people this way, Jeff!”

I finally manage to shut the door and lock it, my hands shaking. I press my ear to the wood, listening as she bangs on it one last time before stomping away, hurling a final curse into the air.

“Well, damn,” I mutter, turning around. Jamie’s still standing by the couch, his face pale and his body rigid, like he’s bracing himself for something worse.

“Jamie, I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking the heavy silence.

“For what?” His tone is sharp, slicing right through me.

“For... that,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the door. “Whatever the hell that was. I think she might be on the verge of a drinking problem, if she’s not already there.”

Jamie’s eyes narrow, his voice low and steady. “Well, is she right?”

The question makes my heart sink. “What do you mean?” I ask, even though I already know.

“Is she right? Because you really don’t seem to care that you hurt your girlfriend. Do you care?”

I’m stunned, the words catching in my throat. How the hell do I even begin to answer that?

I throw my arms in the air, my voice rising. “Are you kidding me, dude?! I know you’re drunk, but that’s bullshit. Jamie, she was cheating on me.”

“And what do you think we were doing?” Jamie fires back, his voice trembling. “On the couch, in your bed, in your car—all those times back in high school when you were dating someone else?”

“Oh, please,” I snap, defensive. “You were doing the same thing to girls back then. Gay or not, you’re no better.”

Jamie’s eyes gloss over, and before I know it, tears start sliding down his cheeks. Seeing him cry cuts me deeper than I want to admit. My anger toward Tiffany flares hotter. She hadn’t just ruined the night; she’d turned Jamie against me.

“Jeff... do you care?”

The question stuns me. I freeze, my hands dropping to my sides as my eyes widen in disbelief.

“Jamie, of course I care. What are you talking about?” I step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he shoves it off. The rejection feels like a knife to the gut.

“Sometimes I wonder if you really do,” Jamie says, his voice cracking, raw and uneven. “I’ve never, ever seen you care. Jeff, what Tiffany said... I know you, and that’s exactly what I’ve been worried about. You’ve never taken me seriously, and then you just up and left. That killed me Jeff, it killed me when you left. I’m terrified that this—this is all a joke to you, just like all your other relationships. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually care about anyone you’ve been with. I don't think I've ever seen you commit.”

His words hit harder than I expect, like a blow I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightens, my throat feels dry, but I force myself to respond, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I don’t care about Tiffany anymore, that’s true,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “But I did care about her. I did take her seriously. When I caught her that night, everything changed.”

I pause, meeting Jamie’s eyes, my voice softening. “But you, Jamie? I care about you... I’ve always cared about you.”

“You’re a fucking liar.”

The accusation nearly breaks me. I know he sees the way my eyes widen in surprise, the shock hitting me like a slap.

“You have no idea what you want,” Jamie continues, his voice rising with each word. “You never did. Tiffany’s right, and this is exactly what I was worried about, Jeff. I came all the way here because I hoped... I hoped...”

His voice cracks, and he doesn’t finish the thought, but the weight of what he’s saying presses down on me like a boulder.

His voice falters, and he buries his face in his hands, his sobs shaking his whole body. I try to touch his shoulder again, desperate to comfort him, but he pushes me away, and it feels like my heart is being ripped out.

“Jamie, God, please don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart.”

“I told you this was always a big deal to me... being together. Is it a big deal to you?”

His words make my stomach churn, and I remember him saying that. I want to pull him into a hug, to tell him it is, but I know he’ll just push me away again.

“What were you going to do after we had sex just now, Jeff?” Jamie asks, his voice raw. “After I went home? Were you even going to call me anymore? Or would you have just moved on to the next girl like you always do because you won your bet and got fucking me out of your system?”

“Stop it. You’re being ridiculous. You’re drunk, and you let Tiffany get to you—”

“I’m not being ridiculous, and I know I'm drunk but Tiffany didn’t get to me,” he snaps, cutting me off. “She just confirmed everything I’ve been insecure about. Honestly, Jeff, I knew what you wanted from me when I came here. I knew you were probably just curious. And I knew it would be over the minute I gave in to you, but I did it anyway because I’ve always been a complete fucking moron over you.”

“Stop. That’s not true. That’s not what was going to happen, Jamie. You’re acting like you have me all figured out, and you fucking don’t.”

“Yes, I do!” Jamie yells, his voice cracking. “I know you, Jeff. Better than anyone else in the world. I don’t want to just mess around with you, hoping that maybe you actually like me... hoping maybe this is for real. Do you realize how long you’ve strung me along, for so many years? I don’t know what I was thinking coming here. I don’t know why I expected you to suddenly be a changed man for me—”

“I do like you. Jamie, this is for real...” I try to wipe the tears off his face, but he smacks my hand away again.

“No, you don’t. You never would have left me like that in Nevada. You left me and just moved on like it was nothing. Like I could just be discarded. You never texted me back. And I was stupid enough to let you back into my life and come all the way out here... God, what was I thinking?”

Jamie’s words leave me standing there, frozen, as he sobs, each tear another punch to my chest. I don’t know what to say to make this right. I don’t even know if I can.

“I was in denial,” I say quietly, my voice shaky. “About me. About us, about everything. It was so hard not to talk to you... to leave my best friend like that. Jamie, do you have any idea how fucking weird this is for me? To go through this? To want to kiss you, hug you, and be around you all the goddamn time while I hated myself for it?"

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his silence dragging the moment out painfully. I take a deep breath and keep going.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be this confused about your sexuality?” I ask, my voice cracking under the weight of the words. “It wasn’t clear for me—you know I’ve never felt like this about another guy.”

I pause, swallowing hard as my throat tightens. “Even after I left, I couldn’t shake it. I’ve never done this before, Jamie. It’s always just been you. You’ve been confusing the living hell out of me for as long as I can remember.”

I take a shaky breath, my chest constricting as I struggle to find the right words. “I know I didn’t handle any of this gracefully, and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be the one who got hurt the most in all this, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Jamie finally mutters, “You really have no idea what you’re doing.”

“No, I don’t,” I admit, my voice softening, almost breaking. “I don’t, but I know what I’m feeling, Jamie. And what I’m feeling for you is real.”

He shakes his head, like he’s brushing off my words. His expression is flat, his voice devoid of emotion as he asks, “What exactly are you feeling, Jeff?”

I pause, my chest tightening with the weight of it all. It feels like I’m losing him all over again, like this entire evening is unraveling in front of me.

“What are you feeling?” Jamie presses, his tone sharp. “Do you need to fuck now and get it out of your system? Was that the goal of me coming here?”

“No.”

“So you can stop obsessing over this, right?” He motions between us, his sarcasm cutting like a knife.

“That wasn’t the plan at all.”

“Then what was the plan, Jeff?” Jamie’s voice rises, frustration bleeding through every word.

I hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “I just... wanted to see you again. That’s all. I missed you. I care about you. I wanted you next to me.”

Jamie scoffs, shaking his head. “And after this? I mean really, Jeff. We live in different states. We have jobs and lives. What then?”

I don’t have an answer. I know we’ll be separated again soon, but part of me was hoping...

“I guess I was hoping you’d be okay with that,” I mumble, feeling ridiculous the second the words leave my mouth.

“With what?” Jamie snaps. “Being apart, living our lives, and then once in a while visiting to get some action? That’s not what I want, Jeff. At all. That’s you getting what you want on the side. You never think about me or what I want! Have you ever thought about how I feel about any of this? Did it ever occur to you to ask me or have a conversation about it? Or were you just focused on getting in my pants and figuring the rest out later?”

I can’t even look at him. I’m quiet, the air between us heavy and tense.

I hate this. I hate fighting with him. I usually win, but right now? If my goal is to make Jamie feel worthless, I’m doing a damn good job of it—and I hate myself for it.

I don’t know what else to say to get through to him. Jamie’s right—what are we going to do after tonight? I don’t have a plan.

I’ve been running on emotions this whole time, acting on instinct, thinking Jamie wanted the same thing I did. But now I’m confused. Hadn’t he come on to me too?

I look at him, standing there, hugging himself with one arm and wiping tears away with the other. It kills me. I hate that I can’t make him stop crying, that he won’t let me touch him. He’s breaking down because of me. Again.

“I didn’t think about how you felt this deeply because I thought you wanted the same thing I did,” I finally say, my voice raw. “I didn’t think that far ahead, Jamie. I thought... we were just enjoying ourselves. Together. One day at a time.”

Jamie stays quiet, tears streaking down his face.

I’ve never felt so cornered, so exposed. First Tiffany, now Jamie. Maybe they’re both right. Maybe I’m exactly what they say I am.

“I’m the bad guy. I get it.”

Jamie’s still crying, but then he starts walking toward the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I ask, panic creeping into my voice.

“I’m packing up my stuff,” he says, his tone flat.

My chest tightens, and it feels like my heart shatters into a million pieces.

“...What?”

I follow him into the bedroom and watch in disbelief as he throws his clothes into his duffel bag.

No. He can’t really be doing this. Not after everything. I’ve waited so long to see him again, and now he’s just... leaving?

“I deserve better than this, Jeff. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

The tears hit before I can stop them. I’ve never cried in front of Jamie before—not when I broke my leg in sixth grade, not when my dog died on Christmas in seventh grade, not even when I told him I was moving to California.

But now, as the tears well up, I know he’s right. Deep down, I’ve known it all night.

Why the hell do I deserve Jamie? Who am I to deserve someone like him?

He’s miserable around me. I can never seem to say the right thing, and I’ve been letting him down for years. I’m fumbling through this, unsure of myself, of us, of everything. I'm not confident.

I knew it back at the restaurant. He deserves better.

“Jamie...”

“I’m going to just get a hotel or something until I leave on Sunday night,” he says, his voice steady, his eyes not meeting mine.

“You can stay here,” I offer, my voice breaking.

Jamie pauses, holding a pair of pants to his chest, and looks at me. I panic, turning toward the doorframe so he won’t see my tear-streaked face, but I know he catches it before I manage to turn away. I feel humiliated.

“You shouldn’t have to pay for a hotel,” I add, forcing the words out. “You can stay here.”

“Dude, I’m not staying here with you.”

“I know.” I nod, the defeat in my voice unmistakable. “I’ll go stay with Lucy.”

I leave the bedroom and head to the living room closet, pulling out a messenger bag and tossing it on the couch. Grabbing my toothbrush, some soap, and a towel from the bathroom, I return to the bedroom, rummaging through my closet in silence.

Jamie stands there, still clutching his pants, watching me.

I freeze when he taps my shoulder. Turning around, I see him holding out cash.

“I made you take me to dinner... It was expensive. Jeff, just take it,” he says softly.

I look at him, his solemn expression nearly breaking me all over again. My chest tightens as my eyes well up. I shake my head.

“What? No... Jamie, you don’t owe me half of dinner. Stop.”

Jamie sighs, taking back the wad of cash. He pulls a few bills from the stack and holds them out again.

“Then take $100, at least,” he insists.

My heart can’t take it anymore. Tears spill over, falling freely now, and I can’t stop them.

“Stop,” I choke out, my voice breaking. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’ll feel better if you take it,” Jamie mutters, his red, swollen eyes fixed on the money in his hands instead of me.

“Too bad. I don’t fucking want it.” I push the cash away and go back to packing, leaving Jamie standing there in the bedroom, still clutching the bills to his chest.

I walk into the living room, take one last look around, and sling the bag over my shoulder. My fingers fumble as I try to pull an extra apartment key off my key ring.

“Did you even text Lucy?” Jamie asks quietly. “Are you just going to show up? What if you can’t stay?”

“It’ll be fine,” I reply, barely meeting his gaze. “Or I can sleep in my car. It’s fine.” I hold the key out to him. “Here. When you leave, just leave it under the doormat. I’ll come back Sunday morning, so you don’t have to worry about me showing up. I won’t bother you, Jamie. I promise. I’m sorry.”

Jamie doesn’t take the key right away, just stares at it like it weighs a thousand pounds.

I glance down at him, my heart aching. Is this really it? The last time I’ll see my best friend? How did we end up here again, falling apart like this?

This night was supposed to be different.

I take in every detail of him—his messy blonde hair, the curve of his lips, his sharp jawline. His warm, expressive eyes are fixed on the carpet, refusing to look at me.

“Jamie,” I say softly, my voice breaking, “I know you fucking hate me right now, but... damn. I’m going to miss you so much. This wasn’t what I wanted at all.” I choke back a sob, pressing a hand to my wet eyes. I feel so out of control, so fucking stupid for crying.

“Jamie, you’re special,” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “You have a good head on your shoulders. You’re going to make someone so happy someday. Someone way better than me. Someone who won’t upset you or make you feel like shit all the time. You’re going to be fine, and everything’s going to be okay. I’m so sorry you had to come all the way out here for it to end like this. I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m so sorry, dude.”

I want to hug him so badly, but I know he won’t let me.

I can’t stay here a second longer, or I’ll end up falling apart on the kitchen floor.

I leave the key on the counter, grab my jacket from the coat rack, and head for the door. The silence is brutal, cutting me open as I open the door and close it behind me.

That’s it.

This is officially the worst day of my life.

I trudge down to my car, open the trunk, and throw my bag inside. Then I climb into the driver’s seat and start the engine, heading toward Lucy’s apartment, my heart heavy in my chest.