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“Where is this coming from, Jezebeth? You’ve never brought it up before now. If I knew…”
“That’s just it,” she snapped. “You weren’tsupposedto know. I did what I had to and got my assignments done. I’ve never been like you, and just been able to turn that switch off and go about my daily life.”
“Me? You’re the one that’s able to live your life without constantly worrying about assignments and the Cantil. You’re the fun one, and I’m the workaholic,” Mykie stressed.
“But you can actnormalafter your assignments. I can’t be alone, Mykie. Not like you can. I will go stir crazy without being with someone, don’t you get that?”
Mykie paused, forcing her lips together as she took a minute to think. “Are trying to say that you’re addicted— “
“Don’t say it out loud,” Jezebeth hissed between clenched teeth, dropping her arms from their crossed position to either side of her body. “I know I have a problem, but everyone else in the God damn building doesn’t need to know.”
“Why haven’t you told me before? Have you talked to Dexter about this?” Mykie asked.
“God, no. He’d tell me it was all right and that it’sfixable, but if it was, don’t you think I would have done so already?” she seethed. “I know I have a problem, but I’ll fix it myself, alright? You don’t need someone to hold your hand through everything that goes wrong, and neither do I.”
“I wasn’t saying you needed to be me, or that you needed help. I just thought you might feel better talking to someone you care about—"
Jezebeth snorted.
“Before I even met you, I was supposed to be just like you. Tobeyou. You really don’t think my father’s obsession started recently, did you? ‘Be more like that Vesper girl, will you?’, he’d say.” She pitched her voice lower to imitate her late father. “’Why can't you be more mature, like that Vesper girl? She's eighteen, got a head on her shoulders, and she's got goals. What do you have? A dance career? Bah!’. To think, I was supposed to be his favorite daughter. Seemed like I’d never live up to his expectations.”
“I never wanted to make you feel like that. I know it may be insensitive, but screw your dad and his expectations! You’ve always been someone I looked up to, and I don’t want you to change anything about your personality!” Mykie swallowed harshly, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m just so…so angry that you didn’t think you could tell me about this. We’ve been friends for almost four years now. Even if I wasn’t available to you, Dexter would have tried to listen. Are you afraid of Dexter drawing away from you?"
"No," Jezebeth shook her head. "I don’t think he’ll shun me if I told him, and while we’ve had some more time to spend with each other lately, there’s been a few...speedbumps along the way to this point. What if this was finally the tipping point, where he stops waiting for me?”
Jezebeth shook her head again as if to clear her head. “I’m sorry. This is a stupid conversation and a lot of stuff to overload you with right now. Weren’t you going on a date tonight?”
Mykie nodded, and let the conversation go. If Jezebeth didn’t want to talk about it right now, she couldn’t make her do it. However, Mykie would keep checking in with her. Jezebeth had been such a good friend to her, so Mykie needed to return the favor.
“Yeah. Mind helping me get ready? He told me to dress casually.”
Jezebeth rolled her eyes. “That could mean so many different things!”
“Right!”
Suddenly, everything felt good between them again as Jezebeth and she went into Mykie’s bedroom to find her something to wear. After a few different choices, Jezebeth settled on dressing her in a green turtleneck and black jeans. She let Mykie borrow a gold chain belt and gold earrings before telling Mykie to wear her hair up in a ponytail. Finally, she had Mykie wear black sneakers, claiming that the outfit would be considered fashionable, but comfortable wherever he was taking her.
Mykie was putting on her last touches of makeup when Caspar had come home. She had given him a spare key the day before, not only because he was staying with her, but because she felt it was good that he would have access to somewhere else besides Renly’s, if there was ever trouble again.
"Mykie, are you in your—" Caspar called out as he walked into her bedroom, but stopped in the doorway as he got a look at her in the reflection of her mirror.
She turned around and looked at him.
“Everything okay? Did everything go well?” she asked, suddenly imagining all the things that could have gone wrong.
He cocked his head. “What? Oh, yes. Everything was fine. Noah’s really good at explaining everything first before showing me what he needs me to do. Are you going out?”
She smoothed her shirt down as she looked at him through her eyelashes. “This isn’t weird, right? You seeing me getting ready for a date? I thought I might be gone by the time you got home.”
“A little, but at least I don’t have to worry about you being safe,” he said with a shrug. “When is he supposed to come?”
She looked at the clock beside her bed. "Any minute now."
Caspar came further into the room and held out his hand. She hesitantly took it, confused about his intentions. He lifted her hand and spun her around until she was facing him again. Then, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close, and began to sway her in a dancing motion to no music.
“I won’t let my time with you looking like that go to waste, then,” he said quietly.
She didn't know how long passed as they swayed together. She was focused on Caspar and only him for the time. How his hair was matted down on the sides from where he must have been sweating with Noah, and how he was on the smaller size as a man, but where he lacked height, he gained in defined cheekbones and muscles. She thought about how naturally attractive he was. He didn't outwardly look like a strong man, but she could tell in the way that he held her that he was strong in other ways. His grip and the way he carried his upper body spoke of years of service labor in restaurants and shops. His feet, though ungraceful, led her perfectly as he gently twirled her at times and pulled her back into his chest.
