Page 68 of Here for a Good Time
“Wh—” I don’t know if I want to askwhatorwhy.
What are you saying?
Why are you saying this right now?
Why didn’t you tell me before?
What next?
I’m breathing hard but it’s not enough. “You never told me,” I finally say.
His mouth slacks. “I didn’t know how.”
“But y-you were talking to Julia again,” I sputter, tripping over my metaphorical two feet. “And you were flirting with Leila.”
“Because I knew I needed to move on.” He laughs like it’s an obvious joke. “I almost told you so many times, but there was college, and then there was Vik, and also Julia, and then you got engaged, and then your engagement was called off, and then you had all those book rejections, and then yousolda book,thebook even, and thenIhad a breakup, but then you were in the middle of this great, amazing book whirlwind and in the middle of a movie deal, and then you started working on your second book and were trying to get through this writer’s block, and it was just… never the right time.”
“We live together!” I don’t expect my voice to be ragged as it is. “You could’ve told meanytime. Over coffee, while doing the dishes, while folding the laundry. I spend more hours in a day with you than with anybody else!”
“But I also didn’t want to be that guy! Because I hate that guy!”
“What guy?!”
The way his shoulders jerk, I can tell he forgot where we were and was going to spread his arms. “That guy who sticks around pining for the girl, hoping that one day she’ll wake up and realize she’s been in love with her best friend this whole time, too, and then they’ll have a big romantic moment in the rain and that’ll be it.
“But every morning, I wake up and walk into the kitchen and that girl is sitting at the table, brows furrowed, fingers clacking awayon her keyboard as she writes the literary world’s next big thing, and I have to stop and take a breather. I see you, and I think,Good god, how lucky am I that I get to be in your life?I’ve watched all of these people fall in love with your words and that ridiculous, perceptive brain of yours, and in my head, I’m the snob that’s going,Well actually, I was a fan before she became ‘cool.’” I snort, and he smiles, and my heart flutters.
“And it’s so stupid and clichéd in the movies, because you think,Grow up, dude, stop making excuses and just fucking tell her. But I get it now, that reasoning ofI would rather have you as a friend for the rest of my life than try to enter new territory and risk losing you forever. Before, Iwasangry when you accused me of taking Leila’s side, because how could you ever,everthink that I’d take anyone else’s side over yours? All I was trying to do was keep you safe. If it came to it, I would give myself up to keep you safe, you have to know that.” After a long silence, he says, “Please say something.”
I reenter my body, feeling for the first time the wet trails cutting down my cheeks. Someone’s flipped the earth on its axis and rearranged every frame of reference I’ve ever held—and I’m meant to make sense of this new worldview while tied to a chair in an empty hotel room.
“What are you thinking?” Zwe prompts gently.
“I—” My head is spinning, and that near-passing-out sensation returns. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “This wasn’t—”
The lock makes a familiar click, and the door swings open. Leila slides the key card in her back pocket, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. “Hi, friends,” she says, taking long strides toward us. “How are we feeling? Still in the mood for a little adventure?”
FOURTEEN
“I know they’re your cousins,” I blurt out. The rest follows like word vomit. “You didn’t have the knife on you. That wasn’t even part of the plan, was it? They slipped it to you and you pretended to escape so you could come after us. But Antonio messed it all up.” Immediately, I regret it. I hadn’t considered if we were supposed to hold our cards close, or threaten her with what we’ve figured out so far.
Leila pauses mid-step, evidently jostled. “Let me guess,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Youplottedyour way to that conclusion? God, don’t you ever get annoyed with that nonsense?” she asks Zwe.
“You’re not getting away with this,” he says.
At this, she puts a hand to her chest and laughs. “Jesus Christ, you sound like a character in a clichéd action movie.” She turns to me. “Couldn’t you have written him some vaguely original dialogue? Your book wasmuchbetter than this.”
“You read my book?” I ask.
She flicks a hand. “Yes, I read it. And yes—” She crosses herarms and straightens her stance. “I also already knew about your Netflix deal. I know how much you’re worth.”
“So this is about… me?” I shake my head, a chill spreading down to my toes. “You did all of this for—”
“For you?” she cuts in with a snicker. “Please, don’t be flattered. I googled you, not orchestrated a complex multi-person operation to specifically hold you hostage. If I wanted to do that, I could’ve just snatched you on my own. You don’t really put up much of a fight.”
I’m so relieved that I can’t even be offended. “So let us go,” I say. “Let all of us go. Whatever you and your cousins want, none of us can give it to you.”
“See, the thing is,” she says, and clicks her tongue, “thatwasthe plan. But then you had to go ahead and snatch off Nita’s mask. Andthenyou had to figure out we were all cousins, so—” She shrugs. “Really, it’syourfault that you’re not getting out of this alive, Poe.”
