Cherries: Part One (Ch. 5-8)

Chapter 5: Cherries, Dammit!

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Katrina said. She’s a lot wiser than I gave her credit for. A lot braver too, because I am scared shitless. I want Tess to see me as more than just “Matt, the friend who lives around the corner.” I want to be “Matt, the Protector” or “Matt the Healer,” or possibly even “Matt, the Boyfriend.” But that means I’d have to show her that I think about her like that. What I’m afraid of is that she will freak out and not want to talk to me anymore… And I don’t want that. I want to be there for her.
So, I’m stuck.
I’m sitting here, trying to reason with myself over how to do this. I think I’m pretty well-skilled at subtlety… But around Tess, it sometimes comes out like nervousness. I’m hoping maybe I can get a handle on that. That way, I can slowly work these ideas of fondness around her, so as not to be overwhelming, but just enough to make her start to like the idea.
Just how do I go about doing that, though? What do I say to imply such things with the right amount of… passion? (Oh, god, I can’t even think of the right words to explain this to myself.) I suppose maybe every time she brings up Brent, I can remind her of the qualities he lacks, which better guys, (i.e. me) do have, and that she deserves these qualities. And when she says that she’s not good enough for one reason or another, I can tell her to stop being so silly, and can remind her of her own positive qualities.
All of this seems simple enough…So why is my stomach still turning when I remember that she will be over here in about ten minutes?
I distract myself with cleaning my room to kill most of that time. It’s not really all that dirty - a few pairs of boxers strewn here or there and my bed is unmade – but it keeps my hands bust and my stomach settled while my mind is still racing back and forth between the “what-if’s” and the “should-do’s.” I pick up my trash can and take it to be emptied in the kitchen. I pass by the front window and glance out to see Tess halfway up the road. I run to the kitchen, sloppily dump the contents of my trash can, leaving bits of paper to be picked up later, and run back to my room.
I shut the door behind me and sit on the edge of my bed. I breathe in and out deeply once or twice, and go out to answer the door. Before I can get to it, though, she opens it and walks right in.
“Hey…” she muttered, closing the door.
“Hallo.” I motion to my room and she nods. I turn on the balls of my feet and walk down the short hallway. I spend the time that my back is to her composing my face and clearing my throat.
As soon as we walk into my room, Tess goes, “Wow… this is really, really… really clean.”
“Yeah… mom decided to give me orders today,” I liked. I turn, again on the balls of my feet (I’m guessing this is a new found nervous habit), and sit with my back against my bed, Tess crosses to my closet and props herself up against it. She’s got on a dark blue hoodie and the jeans that fit her really tightly. That makes me nervous again for a second – until I look at her face. Sullen. Lifeless. A look that’s too common on her nowadays. “Come on, Tessie. Don’t look like that now.”
She sighs. “I can’t help it,” she says, as she slides her back down the door behind her until she is sitting on the floor. “He talked to me today.”
“Oh. What did he say?” I leaned forward, ready to console her for whatever damage Brent had done.
“He said that the rumors weren’t true. That he didn’t dump me for someone else. He said that he just doesn’t know how to deal with a relationship now and…” Her lips perk up into a smile for a millisecond before they settle back into a straight line.
“And what?” Did he say something stupid and insensitive, like only Brent Smith could?
A look of confusion crosses Tess’ face before she speaks. “He said that one day we might give it another shot.”
I was right. Only it was much worse that I thought. Where the hell does he get off giving her a false hope like that? He’s going to make her wait for him forever and never come back to her. He’s going to string her along like a little puppet just because he can!
…But what if he actually does follow through and come back to her? What if he comes back and tortures her some more? What if he comes back and takes my Tess away from me!?
“Don’t you listen to him, Contessa! Don’t believe a word he says! He’s a snake, and all he’s doing is wrapping himself around you, tighter and tighter, just so he can sink his teeth into you.” BY this point, and I’m not sure how, I was on my feet. Soon, so was Tess.
“No! You’re wrong! See, I told you it always meant more. I knew he was never as bad as you and everyone else wanted me to believe he was. He’s going to give me a second chance, and I’ll be damned if I miss it.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong, Tess. You should be the one to have to offer the second chances, because he screwed you over. I don’t know what he did to your brain to make you think you did something wrong, but that’s not true at all. In fact, it’s just CRUEL!” She glared at me with so much anger that it further fueled my own. “Listen to me! You can do a hell of a lot better than Brent Smith. Don’t let-“
“NO!” she screamed at me. “No, I don’t want BETTER, I want BRENT!” She backed off, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she stared at me. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I could say anything. The realization that she only wanted Brent hit me like a double whammy. It meant that she was blinded by Brent so much that she was choosing Brent over me, before I even got a chance. That was like ice. Her eyes welled with tears and she whispered harshly, “You just don’t get it…” before she turned around and ran out of my house.
* * * * *

I sit in class, feeling empty. I don’t want to acknowledge any of the rest of the world. I want to disappear and dissolve into my own little pool of loathing and disgust for the rest of the world around me. And then a little folded sheet of paper appears just in my sight line. I glance out of the corner of my eye to Katrina, who looks extremely upset, which strikes me as odd, because she never wears her emotions that way in this class. I can’t ignore that.

You know what I hate? When everyone you like is just not interested and could care less about you.

Katrina’s psychic abilities have increased dramatically recently. I wonder if she talked to Tess and knows what happened last night. Another look over at her, and she is playing with her necklace again, staring off into space, looking defeated. No, she doesn’t know, it’s just a twisted turn of fate. I don’t feel at all like going into to detail about last night, so I roll it into an analogy.

Kind of like when you go in a candy store wanting a certain kind of candy? Like you want some cherry candy, but all they have left is grape and you’re sitting there thinking, “I just wanted cherries, dammit!” And you feel like you’re wasting your time…

Exactly. I feel like everyone else got the flavor I wanted… that I had been saving up for.

I know the feeling.

=/ Damn cherries.

Chapter 6: The Prophecy

I’ll openly admit right now, that I do stupid things. I don’t want to be deemed a hypocrite by any means. Everyone has their vices (of the Three that Katrina and I have discussed that plague every teenager), and I don’t deserve more criticism than anyone else.
After spending all day thinking about the argument, I feel like I need to dull everything. I need to take the edge off of these razors in my mind. I’m home by myself right now, and I have a craving that I’m hoping can be filled. I look in the freezer, and sure enough there is a bottle of liquor. Now for the important part – I inspect the bottle and it appears to be open. Excellent. Now I can have a shot or two without anyone noticing.
Over the sink, in the cabinet, I get a small shot glass and fill it up halfway. No, that’s not enough, so I finish filling it up. I throw that first shot back and let it warm my throat as it slides down. I fill it halfway again and throw it back one last time before putting the bottle back. Wash the glass. Place it back in the cabinet. Wander off to my bedroom.
I need some music – something calming and relaxing. Death metal is always a good choice in that area. Maybe that is a disturbing personality trait, but I don’t care. I could care less about anything about me that other people don’t approve of. It’s not my issue right now. All I want to do is lay here on my bed and stare at the ceiling and let everything slowly work its way out of my head. I stare straight in front of my eyes until the ceiling starts to crumble in on itself, revealing a darkness beyond it that just keeps growing larger and larger.

I open my eyes to a dark blue room. I’m seated in a cold metal chair. I move my hand, and it works. I bring up my arms and they seem to be fine, too. I try to sit forward, but I feel restrained. Looking down, I see that there are all of a sudden chains wrapped around me, keeping me still. The most I could now do was to wriggle about, feeling as if the chains tighten each time.
“Matt?” I hear Tess’ voice call from behind me. I turn my hand to see her coming near me. She is wearing a black tank top, fishnet stockings and a short, black skirt. She reaches down and hugs me, chains and all. I try to bring my arms up to hug her, but they won’t budge.
“Tess…” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.
“Matt, I have to show you something!” she says to me, smiling exuberantly. She waves her hand as if motioning someone over. Out of the darkness steps Brent He opens his arms like he is going to hug her back, but in his left hand is a knife.
Just then, he looks at me, and as he moves into Tess, says to me, “Tell her. Tell her you love her, or you can watch her bleed. Say it, before you lose her.” The blade moves dangerously closer to Tess, but it’s moving in agonizing slow motion. I try to tell her, I try to scream to her, but there is now an iron bar welded over my mouth. My attempts are useless. The blade gets dangerously closer every second. Then, it all happens at once – the knife pierces Tess’ back, the walls around me go blood red, and I hear Tess scream as I sit straight up in my bed.
A dream. It was only a dream. I look around my room. The walls are all still white. I check myself, and thankfully there are no chains. My heart is beating furiously and I have a bit of sweat on my forehead. I wipe my head and go to the bathroom to wash my face. I see that it’s still light outside. I wasn’t out for very long. Mom’s not even home yet.
Just throwing water on my face doesn’t do any good, so I decide to take a shower.
A piping hot shower. I have to wash this dream off of me completely. (Note to self: Never go to sleep listening to death metal again.)
The warm water is soothing after feeling so cold stuck that chair in my dream. I don’t think I had that nightmare for nothing, though. It’s pretty straight forward, if you ask me. It means I have to face my fear of… what, rejection?... and tell Tess how I feel about her. I won’t let Brent destroy Tess they way I know he will, because he’ll do it exactly the way it happened in the dream: He’ll go in and make her think she’s getting what she wants, and then betray her, and she’ll never see it coming. I won’t just sit here and let it happen to her. No, I’ll do whatever I can to keep Tess from walking into a trap.
First thing’s first, though – I have to get her to talk to me again. I can’t tell her how I feel, give her an alternative to falling on her face, if she won’t listen. And I can’t do it immediately; I have to get her to come over tomorrow or something. Maybe she will do that much.

Heylo [MaTt]

I wait ten minutes with no reply.

Please talk to me? I’m sorry about going off like that. I just wanted to look out for you. [MaTt]

I set my phone down for a minute, trying not to cling to it. It lights up with a message after a minute.

I don’t need looking out for. ~Tess

I know… But you’re my Tess, my best friend – it comes with the package. [MaTt]

Yelling at me comes with the package? ~Tess

Of course. Along with poking, prodding, tickling, and whoring you out on corners. It’s all in the contract. =P [MaTt]

Lol. And what contract would that be? ~Tess

The one you verbally signed the first day you said hello to me. [MaTt]

Wow, what did I get myself into that day… ~Tess

=] So will you come over tomorrow? [MaTt]

Can’t. ~Tess

Oh. [MaTt]

You can come over here if you want. I just can’t leave the house. ~Tess

Ok. Yeah, sure. Guess I will see you tomorrow then. [MaTt]

At least she’s being sensible and is forgiving me. Now I have a way in. Already, I can feel a slight twitch in my stomach from the nerves, but I’m determined not to let that get to me. I have the chance to save Tess from Brent, and I will be damned if I let that chance slip by.

Chapter 7: Confessions

The school day passes by too quickly for me. I had no time to think. My brain’s completely shut down on me – and in the best of moments to do so, it might get in my way today.
Or maybe it’s my nerves that will get in the way. My nerves are still getting at me…
No, no, if my brain was functioning correctly, this would be a lot worse.
Dear God, what’s happened to me? I’ve never been this frantic before. Well, I only feel frantic, I’m like a zombie to everyone else today. Katrina couldn’t hold my attention for more than one minute and it kept frustrating her. It must have bothered her a lot, she didn’t even talk to the boy across from her until the second half of class.
Everyone else just kind of stayed out of my way. They don’t pay me much attention unless I make a point to make myself known by some clever remark, or occasionally doing something off the wall. I may be the only person who has to work at existing.
Then, I saw Tess, and whoever was around me at that point, I turned and began a conversation with them about something completely random. I want her to think that I feel normal. I don’t want her to wonder about what’s wrong with me all day and then ask me later. I want to work into that subject myself. Any outside help and my plan (or at least the rickety shamble of thrown-together ides that I call a plan) will be ruined, and I will look nothing more than a bumbling idiot. If I know Tess, I don’t think she is the kind of girl who finds the bumbling idiot thing endearing. I think, perhaps, if she did, she would date worse people than Brent Smith, and then I would really lose my mind…Did I just call myself annoying? No, no, I’m not normally a bumbling idiot, its ok. I’m only one of them if she messes me up…
I sigh – this trail of thought will tear my nerves to pieces before I even get to her house. I can’t let that happen, not today. Today is the day for everything to go smoothly. Today is the day that every moment spent with Tess has been leading up to. Today is the day I tell Tess I love her. Hmph, the words have never really come out that way before..I love Tess.
To calm my nerves one last time, I shuffle around in the freezer for the battle. I take just a sip, and shake my head as the warm, litter liquid goes down my throat.
My phone buzzes on the table.

When you coming over? ~Tess

Whenever you want me to. [MaTt]

K. Crystal just dropped me off, so any time now is fine. ~Tess

Be there in a few./ [MaTt]

My coat hangs off the corner of the couch, so I grab it as I head out the door. It’s gotten downright chilly lately. I still think that’s odd for this exact time of year. It’s early October and I can nearly see my breath. What happened to global warming? I tuck my hands into my pockets and walk on.
Three cats shoot out from inside a drain pipe into the road. They hurry across, meowing all the while. They probably think it’s too cold, too. Just as I pass by the edge of the pipe, a black cat darts out in front of me. I jump back, startled by it’s sudden appearance. The cat has stopped too, and it glares at me for a moment – or, well, gives me the cat's equivalent of a glare anyway. It picked up it’s front foot, still looking at me, and then ran along to the rest of the litter.
A small wisp of superstition seems to linger, but it fades with the next step I take. I make it to Tess’s yard and the dogs start howling at me. Just then, my phone buzzes.

Be careful, the dogs are in a bad mood today. ~Tess

I can’t tell whether her timing is comic or just ironic. Either way, I proceeded up her front steps with a scowl in the direction of the pin.
I hesitate for a moment at the door, not knowing whether to knock. Normally, I would, but something tells me that this is not the time for knocking. Some brute, manly confidence that I have never known until this moment pushes me through the door with the attitude that I have a purpose – a purpose that will not be delayed by such petty actions as knocking on doors.
Finding myself in Tess’s living room with this new found attitude, I call out “Tess!” I stand myself up straight, pushing out my chest slightly, but then decide that the posing is a bit much. But I stand my ground with my mission clear in my head...
Then Tess rounds the corner, her hair down and disheveled-looking, wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a short skirt, and fish-net stockings, just like in the dream. She gives a small smile when she sees me, one that starts off apologetic, and the melts into familiarity. I feel my knees get a bit woozy, but I immediately make an effort to hold myself up. Even if my knees fail me, I won’t let my mind do the same. Nonetheless, my pulse has already quickened and I feel a bit of the edge that drove me only seconds ago wearing away.
“Hey,” she says, holding her hands together in front of her. She looks around, at her dirty, empty house and shrugs. “So, what do you want to do?”
“Oh, uhm….” What a inconsequential matter to get caught up on right to start with, and given the reason for the visit. Although, Tess doesn’t know the true reason I’m here, and that makes things only slightly more difficult. “I’m not sure. I guess we could just chill – hang out – talk. All that good stuff.”
“Sounds good I guess.” Tess walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out a can of Dr. Thunder. “Do you want one?” she asks, turning around to face me, refrigerator door still ajar.
“Yeah, thanks.” Ten bucks says the taste of liquor is still on my breath, and that might not help me right now. Tess pulls out another can, turns around, nudges the door shut with her foot and goes to sit on the couch. I go to sit beside her as she hands me my soda. She goes to tuck in her legs, and looks suddenly uncomfortable.
“Ugh, hold on a minute. I’m going to go put some pants on.” She sets down her drink and heads off to her room. I watch her as she shuts the door. I suppose that might help me concentrate more, but I don’t mind the distraction all that much…
The top on my can pops and hisses as I open my drink. There’s a cool, carbonated sting that fills my nostrils and makes my eyes watery as I take my first giant gulp. It’s funny, I don’t get thirsty like this unless I am nervous…
Tess steps out of her room now wearing light grey sweat pants. The change in wardrobe doesn’t matter much. Tess still looks tantalizing no matter what she wears. She plops down on the couch beside me and resumes her previous position. Popping open her own can, she asks: “So, what’s new with you?”
“Nothing much…” Except the fact that I am in love with you, of course.
“Fun,” she responds, and I almost wonder if she heard my thoughts.
“How about you?” Somehow, this conversation isn’t moving quite fast enough for me.
“Not a lot, either.” She sighs, and takes a sip from her can. Absentmindedly, fiddling with the tab, she adds, “Brent has a new girlfriend.” She doesn’t look up from her drink.
“That doesn’t really have much to do with you,” I commented. I’m hoping that this won’t start another argument. That would be completely counter-productive, and I just can’t waste this dwindling courage.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “Just kind of popped into my head.” She laughs for a second, quietly, and then continues. “I don’t care about him anymore. I guess that’s what it has to do with me.”
“Well, that’s good.”
She looks up at me and smiles. “Hey, my hamster’s gotten really really chubby lately. Want to see him?”
I chuckle at Tess’s complete random moment. “Sure.” We get up to go to her bedroom. It was a short conversation, but Tess isn’t really that much into talking unless she has something specific to talk about.
All at once, something clicks in my head and a loud string of thought hits me. Brent is out of the picture. Tess doesn’t care about him anymore. The opportunity for me couldn’t be better. Tess was mine for that taking. That just the thing, I had to take her. She can’t be coaxed into it, she has to be thrown. That’s exactly what I have to do.
Tess now stands in front of me, about to open the hamster’s cage. “Tess,” I whisper, and she turns around. She doesn’t expect me to be so close. I am only inches form her. I can feel her hurried breath on my lips and –
“Matt!” She pushed me away. Tess just stands there, looking bewildered. Her eyes search me up and down, still shocked. She just doesn’t understand what I meant yet. I step back over to her, and place my hand on her shoulder. I look her in the eyes and whisper her name. Tess still looks confused, but doesn’t move as I lean in again. My lips just barely rest on hers before she leans out of the kiss. “Matt, stop.”
My hand drops off of her shoulder, and I step back.
“Matt,” she continues. “What was that?”
“Tess, I love you.” I don’t just say this, I declare it, determined to break through to her. She looks at me, slightly uncomprehendingly. “Since the moment I met you, I felt something. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You’re just… you’re addicting. I found myself dreaming of you – dreaming of touching you, dreaming of kissing you, dreaming that you were just near me…” I shuffle half a step closer, caught up in her eyes, now losing myself to the confession I used to be so afraid of making. “And then we became friends… And I realized you were silly, and distractible, and sometimes a completely, maddeningly annoying person to be around…”
Tess laughed – half sincerely, half nervously – and kept her attention on me. “That’s not nice,” she said.
“But I loved you anyway. I love how I could be with you, and not care who I was, not care about anything in my life. When I was around you, it was all about you. Around you, I am so caught up in just the existence of me and you, and nothing else matters. When I’m alone, and I think about you, nothing else matters. Look at this, I’m a talking fool in front of you. Hell, I can’t even ramble the way I’m doing now on paper!” I grab her hand and squeeze it with enthusiasm, trying to connect my train of thought through our palms. “Tess, I love the way I feel around you. You drive me insane in the most… exhilarating of ways.”
I can’t stop smiling. I am so hysterical from letting all of that out. I’d been so afraid to say that for so long, if only I’d known what it felt like to get it all off of my chest.
A look of understanding dawns on Tess’s face after that entire rant. She looks at me for another moment, and then drops my hand. She turns around and goes to sit on her bed. She bit her lip before quite difficultly stating, “Matt, I don’t think I feel that.” She sheepishly tilts her toward me to examine my expression. Still running on the natural high from the moment before, I just try to focus on what she’s telling me. She continues with no less difficulty from the last time. “You’re my best friend. I trust you with everything. I tell you all of my secrets, and vent to you when I have a problem.”
“Then, there has to be something there, obviously,” I proclaim.
“No, because I trust you. I trust you with my stupidity and my embarrassing moments. You know too much about me for me to feel like that.”
“Tess, that makes no sense, whatsoever.”
She gets to her feet, lecturing. “Yes, it does. I want the person I like to think I’m perfect. I want to think they’re perfect. I want a squeaky-clean, untouched, Barbie-and-Ken relationship.”
Grabbing her shoulder, I scream, “Tess, I think you’re perfect! Did you not hear anything I just said?”
“No, I heard you Matt – but you said it yourself. I’m annoying. I’m not perfect, and neither are you. This is just… I just, I don’t feel the same way, Matt. I don’t.” She nudges my hand off of her shoulder, and takes it in hers. “I’m sorry.”
I exhale, but it sounds more like nervous laughter. I look down at my hand sitting in hers, and I yank it out. “No, Tess, I’m sorry.” I back away and reach my hand behind me to grab the door handle. “I’m sorry that I’m Matt, and not Ken,” laughing sarcastically, “Or Brent fucking Smith. And I’m sorry I wasted your time.” I pull the bedroom door open and try to escape through the living room and out of that house as quickly as I possibly can.
My hands clasp into fists as I stomp across her yard into the streets. My breathing comes in huffs, and I make no attempt to slow it now. There’s no one left to please. Something in my pocket vibrates and I shove my hand in to grab my phone.

Don’t compare yourself to Brent, ok. Please come back. I’m sorry. ~Tess

No, because her precious Brent is too perfect. And I’m tired of hearing it. I throw her feeble e-apology to the asphalt and leave my destroyed dignity behind me. The same black cat sits at the side of the road, watching me.
Thanks for the warning.


Chapter 8: Child’s Play

Buzz-buzz-buzz.

There it goes again, for about the fifteenth time in the last two hours. She won’t leave it alone. Text. Call. Text. Call.

Buzz-buzz-buzz.

Obviously, this was a call.
I am amazed by the fact that she is trying so hard to spare the feelings of her imperfect best friend. Why doesn’t she just make a batter use of her time, like think of more ways to get revenge on Brent. But, oh – that might damage his perfection, and we just can’t have that!
I groan loudly at the infuriating thought and toss my phone against my wall. The light on the front screen immediately goes out. Now I don’t have to listen to it anymore. Maybe she’ll give up.
“Matthew!” my mom chimes from out in the hall. She raps on my door. “Matthew, are you alright in there?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, mom.” Not really in the mood to talk with her right now, I turn over on my bed, back to the door.
“What are you throwing in there?”
I sigh impatiently. “Nothing, mom. Something fell. Nothing broke. It’s all ok.”
“It better be. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Lasagna – you eating?”
I’m not entirely hungry, but I don’t want to carry on this conversation. “Yes,” I answer, hoping this will suit her. It does, and I can hear her footsteps outside the door. Dinner would be an annoyance to attend, but I suppose it would be easier to put on a façade than to have to explain my reasons for not attending.
I stare at the window I am now facing, which is fogged up with cold. I touch my finger to the glass, but my warmth has no effect on the condensation on the other side. A small spot against an atmosphere of cold. It was futile, to say the least.
I hate the cold, and so I flip onto my back and gaze at my ceiling. A million tiny little bumps cover it – imperfections. Uggh. I close my eyes and wish I were able to fall asleep. The shrill call of my mom’s voice to my little sister reminds me I have appearances to keep up with. Ugghhhh!
Obviously, there was no escaping the venomous trail of thought that was bound to impose itself upon me at one point or another. I figure it’s better to learn about new developments than to dwell on that which has already happened. I pull myself off of my bed to grab my cell phone, lying on the floor.
Flipping it open reveals a long crack along the screen – the damage it sustained for being thrown down on the road after leaving Tess’s house. I had half a mind to leave it right where it was but I knew I would regret not having that connection to the rest of the world. I thought I could just ignore the text that Tess sent. That was, until, she sent another. I hadn’t read any of them, save the very fist one, until now.


Matt, really, I’m sorry. ~Tess.

Come on, forgive me, please? ~Tess

Ok, this is getting ridiculous. ~Tess

Sorry. Not really the time to point that out. My bad. ~Tess.

Matt!! ~Tess

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Better? ~Tess

Fine, if you’re going to be an asshole anyway, whatever. ~Tess

*Sigh* Ok, Matt, look. I really am sorry about this. Can’t you please just be my best friend? I can’t handle much else right now. ~Tess

She’d called about five times I between those messages. She didn’t leave any voicemails, thankfully. She was never big on voicemail anyway. It used to bug me, but it was working in my favor today. I’m surprised that she has yet to come knocking on my door. Oh, I hope I didn’t just jinx that right there… No, Tess can be annoying, but she wouldn’t overburden herself by coming all the way over here for just a best friend...
I wonder when (or if) I would be able to think about those words without contempt. Best friend. Normal people like the title – to me, it’s a brand that represents ineptitude. It was a second-place victory that felt every bit like a defeat.
The hard part to believe was not Tess – I half expected things to turn out this way. The strange part was me. For those five minutes, I don’t know who I was. I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. Bluntness is rare, and the sheer courage, the vulnerability – I’d never felt anything like it. I was completely open in front of another human being. No clever words to protect myself, it was unfiltered truth I gave her.
For the past two hours, I have been angry. Now, thinking of the way I exposed myself to Tess, I feel so torn apart. I was bereaved of everything I was, every bit of strength and purpose I held. The anger now faded, the only thing I felt was an overbearing hollow that was what now passed for my insides. Weightless from the locking of purpose, but weighted down by the impending depression hanging over me. I can feel its cold lips brush across my cheek.
My phone buzzes again beside me. Feeling somewhat numbed by this point, I decide I might as well check it. I don’t suppose I could be any worse off at this moment.\

Please don’t let what happened make us not friends anymore. I need my bets friend – My Matt. ~Tess

Indeed, I was wrong. Again.
         My Matt, she said. My Matt, like she owned me; My Matt, like she cared. I was her Matt like she was My Tess, but it was all different – completely different. She was mine because I was protecting her, I was hers because she was using me.
No distinction has ever been clearer. She used me for entertainment, watching me wince at the idea of her and Brent together. The joy she must have derived from my jealousy. She used me as a shoulder to cry on – no, she used me like a snot rag – when he broke her heart. I was dispensable yet reusable, so she kept ringing me out and coming back for more. And worst of all, she’s used me as her emotional punching bag. Whatever she felt, whatever was bothering her, or made her sad, or happy, or confused, she threw it all on me, without a care in the world to how I was or what it was doing to me. To Tess, I was her garbage can to conveniently throw all her wasted time and energy into. I let her do it all, I let her own me. I’d been her Matt, and she was never My Tess.
         But I’d rather it be that way. I’d rather die than use someone the way Tess has used me. And starting now, I reuse to be her play-thing any longer.