Page 55 of Let It Be Me (Shafer U #2)

FORTY-SEVEN

ruby

Ricotta meatballs, a giant salad, and a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery. That’s what’s inside the Styrofoam cooler I slide into the narrow patch of shade on Lorenzo’s front porch, hoping it won’t face more than a couple hours in the late-August heat.

He won’t be my friend, but I’m still his. I’ll still cook his favorite meal to celebrate his football season starting even though he’s not playing yet. And even if he won’t know it, to thank him for giving me the strength to walk away from my parents.

Cooking the recipe this morning, I couldn’t believe how much joy and energy I suddenly had, still high off what I said to my parents. But standing at Lorenzo’s front door and knowing I can’t go inside brings me crashing down to reality.

I don’t know how to be without him. Now that he’s out of my life, I see how much it revolved around him. Unhealthy, I guess. I don’t have any other close friends. But I didn’t need them. Between Lorenzo and me, I had everything. Now I just have me.

Bree texts on my way home.

Bree: Want me to pick you up for the meeting? I’m dying to show off my new ride. Lol.

What’s this? I try to remember what the hell I committed myself to this time. Oh, right; food science club. It’s the first meeting of the fall semester, and we’re supposed to be discussing the student-run food festival happening in September.

Get picked up by Bree in her new luxury vehicle and then attend a meeting of overachievers where I’m the only student who hasn’t been in food science club since freshman year? Not interested.

Ruby: I think I need to skip it.

Bree: You can’t! Hardly anyone will be there, we need numbers. And I wouldn’t piss Wythe off this early in the semester.

The reminder of Professor Wythe is what gets me. She’ll notice if I’m not at this meeting I promised I’d be part of, that I wanted to be part of not long ago.

Ruby: What time?

Bree slides her black sunglasses down her nose to look at me when I get in the car. “Have you been partying since summer semester ended?” She studies me.

“No, why?”

“You look ... different.” Then, a little too brightly, she adds, “Like you’ve been having fun.”

“I haven’t.” I put my own sunglasses on. “I haven’t really done anything since the last time I saw you.” I know I don’t look great—hydration, nutrition, and fresh air haven’t been priorities lately. I basically sleep, scroll social media, and do homework. “What about you? Looks like life is good.”

She has a convoluted story about why her parents gifted her a $70K luxury SUV when her birthday is eight months away, which tells me she’s at least partially embarrassed.

So I don’t ask too many questions and I tell her it’s a beautiful car and that I’m jealous, which is true. We all have our stories.

Professor Wythe looks briefly surprised when I walk in, but she smiles and watches Bree introduce me to the other students there. I recognize most of them from various shared classes, and I feel guilty I don’t know their names.

“Let’s get started,” Wythe tells us, and we all take seats. Her energy is different here, a little less intimidating. She glances at her watch. “We’re waiting for one more student who volunteered to photograph the festival for us, but for now let’s get down to business.”

We go over last year’s schedule of events, Wythe doing a brief pros-and-cons rundown of each before we weigh in on what to repeat and what to scrap for this year’s event.

When the door opens, Wythe stops to beam at the new arrival. I turn around to see. It’s Alli.

My jaw hangs open as I watch her wave at Wythe and make her way to an empty seat, her chin held high.

It feels personal, like she’s here just for me, which of course she isn’t.

She’s the one who volunteered to photograph the festival, which I realize only a few minutes later when Wythe introduces her to the room as “an immensely talented photography student who we’re lucky to have helping us. ” Luck? Is that what it is?

After the introduction, Alli gives a little smile and nods to each of us in turn.

If I had any sense of humor in the moment, I’d laugh at the way her expression morphs when her eyes land on me, all pretense of friendliness and charm dropping away.

Bree nudges me, catching the change, but I can’t acknowledge her because I’m too busy wondering why the universe hates me.

Of course this is where Alli has to find me.

Stumbling around, trying to figure out what this club is about and where I fit in, unsure what I’m supposed to be doing, nothing to contribute except questions that betray my ignorance.

And Alli, as much a newcomer to this group as I am, is the golden girl gracing us with her inspiring generosity and glittering talent.

Actually, as it turns out, she graces the rest of the group.

When it’s her turn to deal with me, she’s a bitch like I’ve never seen before.

It starts when I suggest we put on a cooking demonstration at the festival and I catch her sneer, like this idea is comically stupid.

Then comes the eye roll when I ask about designing T-shirts for the event.

I push it away. Alli has a remarkably expressive face, and she’s never been great at hiding her contempt for me.

She snaps a few photos as we sit around, and the way she eyes me over the top of her camera after the shutter clicks nearby tells me she secured a horribly unflattering picture of me.

But near the end of the meeting, when Wythe discovers Alli and I know each other, Alli abandons subtlety altogether.

“Allison, you and Ruby should coordinate after the fair,” Wythe suggests once we’re trapped in conversation, apparently mistaking our familiarity for friendship. “Ruby volunteered to do our social media this year, so your photos can go to her.”

Alli offers a pretty smile. “That could work ... if she’s still in the club by then.” She slides her gaze to me. “Ruby’s not exactly known for her long-term commitment.”

Wythe cocks her head, and I can tell she’s confused about our relationship, because who but the best of friends would make a comment like that? But I’m not laughing. I’m quietly seething.

Minutes later Wythe makes a few brief closing remarks, and everyone heads out. I should just let it go and be glad the meeting is over. Instead, I walk out the door behind Alli.

I watch her move gracefully down the hallway, burning, the words I want to spit at her clawing at me. I can control myself. After all, I made it through Lorenzo’s yearlong relationship with Alli without ever going off on her. But then I think, Why? I only did that for Lorenzo.

“Hey,” I shout curtly. The acrid sound of my voice surprises and embarrasses me. I would have preferred to be cool and condescending in confronting Alli. But she starts and turns around, no hint of grace left on her face, and I’m glad for the way it came out.

“What?” she says when she sees it’s only me. Nothing to worry about.

I take my time catching up to her.

“What?” she says again as we square off.

Students edge past us in both directions, but I make no attempt to be inconspicuous. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Lorenzo wasn’t in the room with us that entire meeting.”

She pulls a face. “Excuse me?”

“So you didn’t have to be a bitch. He wasn’t there to see how much better you are than me.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You being a bitch. Pointing out everything I don’t know about the festival, rolling your eyes over every idea I have. I’m just wondering who you need to feel superior in front of since Lorenzo wasn’t there.”

She hoists her camera bag higher on her shoulder. “I don’t have time for your insecurities, Ruby. I have somewhere to be.”

“No, you don’t,” I say as she starts to turn away.

She stops to glare at me. “Okay, say what you want. I can tell you really need me right now because you have no one else to unload on, so go ahead.”

I hate the way this knocks me off-balance, so I lob a surprise of my own at her. “Lorenzo and I aren’t together anymore. So if you plan on kicking off your campaign to get him back, you and I better clear the air.”

She makes an insulted huff but gives up quickly, unable to hide her interest in this new information. “So you’re still friends?”

I nod even though it’s a lie. We don’t see each other, we don’t talk, we don’t even text. For all I know, Lorenzo’s been sleeping with Alli every night since we broke up. But the idea of this silence being more than just a temporary state is unbearable. Unimaginable, really.

“I have no plans to get him back, so I don’t owe you anything.” Alli looks down her nose at me.

“Well, I think we can agree the idea of spending all day at the fair side by side sounds like hell. And Wythe has a soft spot for me and my lost-puppy vibes, so if you want her to gush about you to your advisor or whatever you hope to get out of this, you don’t want her hearing how you made me cry. ”

“I’m not doing this for brownie points.”

I snort. “Right.”

“Okay, so clear the air already! What do you want?”

“I want to know why you could never stand to be anything more than shitty to me. I didn’t hate you in the beginning.

In fact, I was almost as impressed with you as Lorenzo was.

And even when that changed, I busted my ass trying to be nice, and you know why?

Because even when I couldn’t stand you, I saw how good you were to him.

And I was grateful for that. Why couldn’t you just suck it up and do the same for me? ”

“I tolerated you, didn’t I? I think I did pretty damn well considering what your presence did to our relationship.”

“Tolerated? You took every chance to make it clear you didn’t want me around.”

She crosses her arms. “You know why? Because I didn’t want you around!”

“Don’t act like I was some desperate third wheel tagging along on date nights and sleepovers. So I wanted to be around for my best friend’s birthday? Or his family parties that I’ve been attending since I was eight years old? What was wrong with that?”

The silence that follows is thick. I see something brewing in Alli’s eyes, but I don’t recognize it. “Because I hated the way I felt when you were around.”

I stare at her. I never expected to be able to relate to Alli Lennox so hard. “I never tried to make you feel?—”

“Oh, please, it wasn’t you. It was the way Lorenzo responded to you. The way he looked at you, talked to you, laughed at your stupid jokes. It was the way I wanted him to respond to me.”

This bitch. Trying to rewrite history. Trying to pretend Lorenzo didn’t bend over backward to make him having a female best friend as comfortable for Alli as possible.

I shake my head. “Bullshit. Lorenzo wasn’t like that.

Do you have any idea how hard he worked not to make you feel that way?

You and your feelings were the center of his world. ”

“I know he tried. I get it—he was an amazing boyfriend.”

“Then stop acting like he ignored you the second I came around.”

“I never said that. I’m saying there are some feelings you can’t hide. Like the way Lorenzo worshipped you.”

I shake my head.

“It’s true. I didn’t think he had feelings for you beyond friendship, and even then, I knew I could never compete with you in his eyes.

Even then, I worked harder to look good every time I knew you’d be around.

” She gestures vaguely at herself, and I know I’m supposed to be noticing how pretty she is, but under the fluorescent lighting, I see the cluster of tiny bumps scattered across her forehead and the sweat marks under her arms. And as much as I dislike her, I feel for her.

“And that fucking hurt because no matter how much better I was on paper, you still won. There was nothing I could do.”

“Maybe the problem was you seeing it as a competition.”

“Like you didn’t?”

I look away. “Whatever. Now neither of us has him. Happy?”

“God, Ruby, here’s another reason you annoy me: You don’t pick up on the obvious.” She gives a cold laugh. “You’ve always had him! I was everything he said he wanted, everything you weren’t, and still ... you had his heart the whole time.”

I swallow, silenced by this notion of having Lorenzo’s heart, the only thing I’ve ever really longed for.

I want to ask her how she knows. If she’s certain, maybe that’s enough for me.

After all, she’s perfect. Except I’m the one Lorenzo loves.

And she’s not perfect. She’s as insecure and jealous and scared of not being enough as I am.

“I was never trying to hurt you, Ruby, but I’m not going to apologize. I wanted the same thing you did.”

“And what’s that?”

“To be the only girl he loved.”

I feel her words in my heart.

“And no matter who he meets or what happens in his life, the truth is you’re the only person who will ever claim that title.” Her eyes narrow. “So, no, I can’t stand you. That’s never going to change.”

Alli’s pained expression is all I can see on the walk home. This girl who’s accomplished and admired and perfectly polished, so far on the opposite side of the spectrum I can barely see her, and inside she’s torn up and aching exactly like me.

I think about the energy insecurity has sucked out of me, the time I’ve spent feeding it so it could chew harder at my insides.

Who told us girls we’re not good enough, and why did we believe them?

Even after Lorenzo laid out his love and devotion to me with every word he could find, I still couldn’t bring myself to let go of doubt.

Little bubbles of anger surface from somewhere deep inside me. Anger at Lorenzo for taking away my best friend, anger at the stories I told myself all my life. Anger that it took me so long to see the truth.

All along, I had what I always wanted.

Him.