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“Because you went out of your way to date assholes!” I say. “And you were definitely smart enough to get A’s. You just would rather party.”
“You made it all look so effortless,” she shoots back. “Ms. Perfect. Perfect job, perfect guy, perfect life. So yeah, I burned it down. And I hated myself but at the same time it felt pretty nice to see everything fall apart for you.” She’s crying again, her makeup streaming down her cheeks. “And now look! Better job, better guy! Seriously, what the hell makes everything go so well for you?”
I’m truly stunned. I’ve always been aware that I’ve been fortunate to go to college and have a good job, but Cheryl’s had all of the same opportunities that I’ve had. Besides, my life has certainly not been this rose-colored paradise that she’s describing. Brent was not a good boyfriend. College was stressful as hell. And everything that’s happened since Nick came into my life has been just as frustrating and confusing as it’s been exhilarating.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you felt like this?” I ask. “I had no idea.”
Cheryl shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe it was just too hard to put into words.”
“So instead you blew my life up,” I say. My sympathy for Cheryl is fading, if not completely nonexistent at this point. She’d acted childishly and selfishly. I never would have even considered doing such a thing to her.
But then Cheryl’s big blue eyes turn up to me and she says the very last thing I expect her to. “I’m so sorry, Evie. I’ve felt terrible for months. And not just because Brent keeps cheating on me. I can’t believe that I did that to you. I miss my best friend.”
I don’t really want to be gracious. The hurt is still too fresh. But it is nice to hear an apology, and Cheryl does seem genuinely broken up about all of it. I just can’t keep my anger alive.
It helps that she’s getting a taste of her own medicine.
I hold out my arms and she hugs me, shaking once again with sobs. My eyes remain dry.
But then I’m thrown back to all the times we’ve spent together. Cheryl was my very special best friend of my twenties. And with no hope of reconciliation, I do feel a deep sadness at the finality of it all. I’m getting older, hopefully wiser. Ready to move on to a new stage of life and a new (better) circle of friends.
I just wish it didn’t have to end with so much hurt.
Cheryl pulls back, wipes at an eye. They’re very red but she’s finally stopped crying. “Remember that night in college,” she says, “when Danny dumped me and we sat on the floor of our dorm room and drank two bottles of wine?”
It was the night our friendship had solidified. I nod. “Of course. Up until that point neither of us knew what to think of the other,” I say.
“I thought you were an uptight bookworm.”
“I thought you were irresponsible and annoying.”
We grin at each other, remembering.
“I don’t think I would have graduated without my bookworm,” she says.
“And I definitely wouldn’t have had so much fun,” I reply.
The silence extends between us, filled with memories of happier times.
Finally, I say, “You know being with Brent wasn’t as great as it looked, right?”
She nods softly. “I’m starting to figure that out.”
“And no matter how things look from the outside, I’m still figuring stuff out myself. Nick and I are far from a sure thing.”
She snorts. “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.”
How does he look at me? I want to ask, but I also don’t want to twist the knife. Besides, my own heart is conflicted enough without Cheryl’s theories.
Thankfully, she doesn’t linger. Instead, she asks, “What should I do about Brent?”
At least that’s a problem I have an easy answer for. “Dump him,” I say. “Dump him immediately. He’s a cheating asshole who gets sloppy drunk constantly. The only upside is his money, and that’s definitely not enough to be worth the drawbacks.”
Cheryl bites her lip. “There is another guy I’ve had my eye on,” she says.
“A rebound is perfect,” I say. “Just as long as you’re happy.”
Cheryl looks at me for a long time and then before I realize it she flings herself into my arms one last time. Into my ear she whispers, “I didn’t deserve a friend like you.” Then, before I can say anything else, she bolts out of the door and back to the party.
