Page 50 of Only If You're Lucky
“You wouldn’t?” she asked, infuriatingly calm.
“No, I wouldn’t. Besides, why would I steal a picture and blame it on Levi?”
“Because you hate him, Margot. You’ve always hated him.”
“I don’t hate him—”
“Yes, youdo!” she yelled, finally getting angry. “Just admit it. Whywouldn’tyou try to turn me against him?”
“I just have a bad feeling about him, okay?” I yelled back, throwing my arms in the air. “I’m trying to protect you!”
“I don’t need you to protect me. You’re not my mother.”
“Yeah, but I’m your friend,” I said, trying to calm down. I walked toward the bed and took a seat on the edge, resting my hand between us. “There’s just something about him that bothers me, Eliza. Something that doesn’t feel right.”
“You’re being dramatic,” she said.
“I’m not being dramatic.”
“Okay, then you’re beingjealous,” she snapped, standing up and stalking across the room. “Christ, Margot, what is it with you? Am I not allowed to have other friends now? A boyfriend?”
“Yes, of course you can have other friends,” I said. “It’s just… he’s too…”
“Too what?” she asked, hands stuck to her hips. “Too cute? Nice? Interested?”
“Clingy!” I yelled again, too frustrated to keep my voice down. “He’s obsessed with you, Eliza. It’s not healthy. It’sweird.”
“Well, I guess that makes two of you.”
I froze, her words hitting me like a slap to the face. I stared at her as the silence mounted and I could tell she regretted it instantly. I could tell, the second she said it, that she wanted to reel it back in, swallow it back down, but no matter how she apologized, no matter how she backtracked, it was out in the open now. The way she really felt.
“I didn’t mean that—” she started, but I held my hand up, shook my head.
“Clearly you did.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t. It’s just… I have a lot going on right now, okay? And I really like him, and you’ve been trying so hard to break us apart—”
“Get out,” I said, standing up myself and pointing to the door. I had to look to the side then, lip quivering, trying not to show the mounting tears crawling up my throat. The cry threatening to spring free with a single glance in her direction. “I tried to warn you.”
“Margot—”
“I tried to keep you safe,” I said, finally turning to face her, surprised to find that she was crying, too. “I’m not breaking you apart, Eliza.He’sbreakingusapart. He’s manipulating you.”
“Just sit back down,” she said, gesturing to the bed. “We can talk about it.”
“I already tried that,” I interrupted, my voice cold as I grabbed her wrist and ushered her out of my bedroom. It wasn’t the first time we had tried to hurt each other like that, our words more painful than any physical act of violence; our tongues sharper than any freshly whetted blade. We knew each other’s weaknesses better than we knew our own—we had touched every single soft spot, pushed on them like purple bruises just because we could—but until that moment, I never stopped to wonder what would happen if we went for the kill. Never even considered the possibility of one fatal blow that had the power to end it all.
“I tried to talk but you wouldn’t listen,” I continued. “You’re choosing him over me.”
“That’s not true,” she said, whimpering in the hall.
“Congratulations, you fell for it.”
“Margot, stop—”
“He’s gonna hurt you, Eliza. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Please don’t say that.”
