Page 21 of Basil

The break-up had been inevitable, but that didn’t make me feel better. Basil had thrown me out of his life like I was disposable, and now he wanted to waltz back in just because he finally saw what had been obvious all along?

No, siree.That is not how this works.

“I need a reset,” I announced.

Meadow nodded and picked up her phone. “Let me call the troops.”

And that was how Ocean, Bodhi, Rain, Meadow, and I ended at Rory’s, a dive bar tucked away in Capitol Hill.

I was surrounded by people who actually gave a damn about me, and that felt damn good. While we were there, Eva and Jordan from the café down the street, joined us. These weren’t the kind of people who talked about stock options or tech conferences. They were artists, baristas, small business owners—people who hustled for what they had, people who understood me. And none of them talked down toanyone.

Halfway through my third drink, Jordan braced his elbows on the sticky bar top. “So, what’s the verdict on Basil? Is he officially an ex, or is this just a dramatic lovers’ quarrel?”

Meadow rolled her eyes. “Don’t like talking ill about anyone, but Basil isout.”

I smirked into my glass. “You heard the Queen of Yoga, Basil isout.”

Everyone cheered to that.

“Though”—Meadow held up a hand—"to be fair, Basil wasn’t a terrible boyfriend, just a clueless, oblivious one.”

“True,” Bodhi agreed as he rolled a joint. “When he hung out with us he didn’t have any airs.”

“But when he was withhisfriends?” Rain looked at me.

I shrugged. “Then he was a grade-A douche canoe.”

Eva regarded me thoughtfully. “Toxicity, I have learned, is contagious. Mob mentality is a real thing. If you hang out with people who keep telling you the Earth is flat, eventually, you start thinking,hey, maybe the Earthisflat.”

“But you gotta be pretty dumb for that,” Ocean remarked, picking up his beer.

“People who are insecure often do dumb things,” Eva pointed out.

Meadow gave her a pointed look. “Have you not met Basil? He is way too confident to have insecurity propelled dumbness.”

I shrugged. “He has confidencebutself-esteem…not so much. That’s why he has to constantly be successful so he can feel better about himself.”

“He needs his Chakras cleansed.” Bodhi rose, waving his joint. “I think a Buddha’s Breath would be good for him.”

“Right, smoke weed and all is well.” Rain rolled her eyes.

“That boy needs help,” Ocean decided when Bodhi walked out to smoke his joint. “He’s drowning in toxic energy. Honestly, I feel bad for him.”

“Let’s not feel too bad,” Meadow protested, holding up her hand to get our server’s attention.

My friends weren’t wrong—Basil’s circle had been full of awful people—but what did it say about him that those were the ones he had chosen? The people surrounding me now were the complete opposite of the crowd at his rooftop party.

No one here was excusing him, but no one was tearing him apart either. Thoughtful, mature, and fair, they approached the situation with a kind of grace that felt so different from the world he used to belong to.

I probably wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been on my fourth drink, but I did. Pulling out my phone, I hit record, letting the conversation flow naturally. Letting this group—my people—talk about Basil. Not as a villain, not as someone irredeemable, but as a man who had messed up and was not above redemption.

As I finished my drink, I hit send, attaching the video with a single message:These are my friends.

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YOU ARE COMPLICIT

BASIL

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