Page 8 of Be Your Forever
Asher
Mental ping-pong
“Asher,dude.Whatgives,man? You’ve been distracted since the moment you walked in. I’ve had to bring you back into the conversation several times.” Max gives me a questioning look.
Where do I even begin with answering his question? I’ve been lost in my head, replaying my interaction with Bri. I’ve had enough therapy to know that the hateful words she was spewing had nothing to do with me. I know she’s struggling, but not knowing how to help her shreds my heart into a million pieces.
I remember when I used to be the person she’d turn to for comfort. There’s always been this unspoken connection between the two of us. But of course, nothing ever happened because it was never just the two of us. Max was always with us. Max—my best friend and the number one reason I couldn’t do anything to act on my attraction toward his sister. In the rare moments it was just Bri and I, there was a raw vulnerability to us sitting together in the silence. I was too naïve to cherish the moments back then, but I yearn for them now. She always gave the best hugs. It’s the reason for her nickname.
SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD ASHER
I stand outside her bedroom door, my stomach tied in knots. I can do this. She’s just a girl.She’s your best friend's sister.Shit. I should just leave now and she’ll never know I was here. I turn to leave, but the sound of a door has me stopping in my tracks.
“Asher?”
“Hey…Hi.” I mentally facepalm my forehead.Real smooth, Asher, real smooth.
“You want to go to our spot?” Bri asks, and it takes me longer than I would have liked to respond. She’s beautiful, always has been. Her long, chestnut curls lay untamed against her face, and her amber eyes pierce straight through to my soul. God, she's breathtaking.
“Yeah, let's go, bear.”
Bri rewards me with one of the most beautifully mesmerizing smiles. One that burns my entire body like the whiskey shot I was dared to toss back by none other than the woman beside me. The first time I slipped out that nickname, I remember Bri getting all up in my face, asking if I was calling her fat. I swear my entire stomach dropped to my feet as I floundered up the word “no” about a hundred times, only to have her toss her head back in a full-bodied, villainous cackle. After my heart stopped threatening to beat out of my chest, I oh so graciously reminded her of our first ever interaction. Instead of shaking my hand like anynormalperson would do when meeting someone for the first time, Bri charged at me and wrapped me in the biggest hug known to man. I couldn’t explain it then, but returning the embrace felt as essential as breathing. The nickname, however, didn’t come until I really got to know Bri. Like a bear, she’s protective and soft. But not too soft that she’ll let anyone bulldoze over her and her loved ones. I was always good at sticking up for myself, but during one of our many neighborhood baseball games, someone on the other team purposely tripped me, causing me to tumble before I reached the base. Nothing was sprained or broken, but Bri stomped her way toward the boy and punched him in the nose before going off on him. I stared up at the situation, stupefied for a few seconds before leaping to my feet to pull her back.
“Easy, bear, I can handle myself.”
Bri, in turn, growled at me, which only solidified the nickname.
I’m so wrapped up in everything about that trip down memory lane, that I about topple over her when she stops walking. I reach out to grab her shoulders so neither of us falls over.
“You okay, Ace?” Bri asks, tossing a sly smirk over her shoulder.
“Yeah, just got lost in my head. I’m good.”
We sit down side by side. Our shoulders are barely touching, but I feel the contact everywhere. I attempt to swallow past the sawdust that seems to fill my mouth as I sit next to her. This has been our thing lately. I sit next to her while she reads, and I couldn’t be more content. One would think I gain nothing from this type of interaction with her, but they’re wrong. While she reads her book, I’m playing on my phone. Well, that’s what BrithinksI’m doing. Yeah, I play a few games, but I’m also compiling a list of everything she’s read so that I can add it to my list. Maybe one day I’ll work up the courage to talk books with her…one day. For now, I’m content sitting next to her, bathing in her beauty.
What gives, man?
Max’s question reels me back into the moment. I feel torn. He’s my best friend and deserves to know what’s happening. I mean, I’ve sat by his side as we wait for texts he knows won’t come. He’s hurting, and I hate seeing him in pain, but this isn’t my story to tell. Bri, for whatever reason, wants to shut herself off from the world. And sharing any intimate detail with him feels wrong. So I settle for sharing something else that’s been plaguing me.
“I’ve just had a lot on my mind, is all. Things at the bar have been really good, but I feel like something is missing. And no matter how hard I think, I can’t quite figure it out. Enough about me, how are you feeling?” I nod toward Max’s right leg.
“I have moments when it feels a bit stiff, but otherwise it’s back to normal. Physical therapy is kicking my ass, but I’d like to think I’m crushing it. I think I’ve annoyed my therapist with how many Iron Man references I make, but she goes with it now. I’m glad I’m out of that damn thing, but my parents—more so my mom—has been hovering. She still thinks I should be in the boot—even after the okay from the doctor. I love my parents, and it’s been nice having them stay with me, but they need to go, man. They’re retired, for fuck’s sake. They need to get back to traveling the world, not babying me.” A sigh seeps from Max’s lips, his hand aggressively scrubbing his face only to be replaced by a bashful look. I know what he’s going to ask before he asks it.
“So…How is she?”
Shecould refer to anyone. I could play dumb and talk about someone we know, but I’m not sure that’ll fly right now. Max might still be workingthrough the final stages of his recovery, but Bri’s still a wreck emotionally. She has yet to answer his texts. At first, I was confused as to why she would ignore him. But from my understanding of depression, isolation is one of the biggest indicators that someone is struggling.
But I still want to protect Max from the pain that having that knowledge will bring, so I decide on a half-truth…sort of. A little white lie won’t hurt, right?
“I don’t think I’m the right person to answer that. I haven’t really seen her much. Avery would probably be a better person to ask.”
It’s not a complete lie. Ihaven’tseen her that much. I resist the urge to rub the back of my neck, knowing it’s one of my tells that Max will call me out on. Having a best friend you practically grew up with is a blessing and a curse.
Max’s face screamsI don’t believe you, but he lets it go for now. Who needs a lie detector when you have a best friend? What he does say, though, takes me by surprise.
“I need a favor from you. Before you say no, I need you to hear me out.”
Déjà vu is like a punch to the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I know what he’s about to ask before he opens his mouth, but it doesn’t stop my heart from pounding against my ribcage.
