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“So you’d rather settle for a mediocre life? There’s nothing wrong with surprises — the right surprises." Blake cocks an eyebrow. "And you cannot tell me there’s no stress in your life. I’ve heard the conversations and how he talks to you. I’ve seen the look in your eyes as you take it and say nothing back. Hell, you just took off running after the man asked you to marry him!” Blake’s eyes are practically popping out of her head.
“I said yes first.” I shrug, not sure what that means now, though.
Blake shakes her head. “For one, you said okay. For two, I don’t believe for a second that you actually accepted that proposal.”
“I love him.” I do, but I’m saying it like it's an excuse.
“And I love you, but I can’t stand seeing you miserable.”
“I’m not miserable.” I’m floating through life, taking whatever scraps my complacent boyfriend sends my way.
“But you’re not living either, Libby.” Blake sighs when I don't offer a rebuttal. “Why did you run away?”
I look back over the Mississippi River. Watching the water move calms my nerves, as if the current steadies my own. I don’t have an answer for her. I wasn’t actively thinking when it happened, I just did it.
“Can I tell you what I think happened?” She asks.
I chew on the corner of my lips, waiting to hear Blake’s thoughts. I know she cares for me, probably more than anyone else in my life. She also knows me better than I know myself sometimes.
“I think your head finally caught up with where your heart has been for a while. I know you want a comfortable life, but we both know this is not it." She waves her hands as she talks. "You need more out of life than what you’re getting right now. You deserve to be comfortable and in love, happy, living life. Accepting whatever Jett throws at you without fighting for what you want is bullshit and has made your heart go dormant. You don't have the spark you used to. You ignore it because it’s easier. But when it came down to facing the truth, when Jett asked you to marry him, your head snapped out of the fog you’ve been in and you finally saw the light.”
She’s right, I know she is, but it’s still a difficult thing to hear. Have I really changed that much? Did Jett notice? I don’t want to think about that though, no matter what, it isn’t good. Either he hasn’t noticed, which speaks for itself, or he did, and hasn’t tried to do anything about it. Worse than that, he thought that proposing to me was the next best step for us.
Does he even know me at all?
“Come on.” Blake kicks off the rail. “Let's go get some ice cream.” She holds her hand out and I take it, leaning my head on her shoulder.
It’s a shame I'm not a lesbian. She really is my soulmate, and the best person I know.
Blake smiles. “I know what you’re thinking, but we both like dick too much.”
“What?” I pick my head up to look at her. “Who said I was thinking anything like that?”
“I know everything, Libby, especially when it comes to you.” She pushes my head back down onto her shoulder and we continue to walk in silence.
2
After stopping by the store to get enough ice cream to fix all our problems, we head to Blake’s apartment. We can't go to mine in case Jett is there. I'm not ready to answer the seven times he’s called me, let alone face him.
I empty the bags onto the counter, lining up our junk food buffet style while Blake changes. When she comes back a few minutes later, she grabs bowls and places them on the counter next to the spread.
“I grabbed you some of my comfy clothes. Ice cream tastes better when you have an elastic waistband,” she says and hands me the clothes.
“Thanks. I can’t decide between mint chocolate chip or cookie dough. Mind dishing me up a scoop of both while I go change?”
“Sure thing!” Blake bumps my hip with hers before I walk down the hall towards the spare bedroom. A phone rings and I instantly freeze, but remember that I turned mine off when we got to the apartment, so it’s nothing I need to worry about.
I close the door behind me and unfold the clothes Blake's clothes. While I'm not a big girl, she is noticeably smaller than me. Where she is slim and toned, I have curves and softness. So when I put the shorts on, they hug me a little too tight. I am equally surprised and relieved, though, when I pull the shirt on over my head, and it hangs down to my thighs.
Padding back to the kitchen with my bare feet, I grab the bowl Blake left for me and head to the couch to have a much-needed girl’s night with my best friend.
“Holy shit. Is that Libby?” I stop mid-shovel with the spoon at my lips. The sound of Blake’s brother’s voice registers in my mind and I turn on my heels to walk away. “I already saw you, Elizabeth Clark. How the hell are you?”
Tyson Miller is two years older than Blake, but they may as well be twins. They both have the same wavy brown hair, dark caramel skin, and bright green eyes. Each with larger-than-life personalities, but Tyson really is bigger than life. Six-foot-three and made of pure muscle. It’s as if he’s built specifically to play basketball, which is exactly what he does, playing point guard for the Travelers, New Orleans’ NBA team, for the last two years.
“Hi Ty.” I reluctantly take a seat next to Blake, facing her phone that’s propped up on the table with the FaceTime call.
“Oh my God, Ty! Jett proposed to her, and she said okay, but then literally ran away! It was literally the best thing I’ve ever seen!” Blake waves her spoon around as she retells the moments that I wish I could forget.
