Falling for My Best Friend (Fated #1) (7 page)

“Alex?” I said, knocking on the door.

“Whaaat?”

“It’s Lucy. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

I opened the door to my brother’s room and stepped onto a
visible patch of carpet. The floor around me was covered with clothes that
would no doubt all fail the sniff test, and his desk was covered in half eaten
sandwiches, most of which were probably delivered by my Dad.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said. “You’ll get a
new girlfriend in no time with a bachelor pad like this.”

“Did you come here to torment me?” he asked, sliding his guitar
off his lap and leaning it against his bed.

“No, I came here to cheer you up believe it or not.”

“Just cause I believe it doesn’t mean I think you can do it.”

I stepped carefully over to the end of his bed and sat down.

“Plus, I don’t want cheering up,” he said, “I want Ceci back.”

“Wanna tell me what happened?” I asked, wishing I’d come armed
with Febreeze.

“She said she fell out of love with me.”

I dug my nails into the palm of my hand so I wouldn’t laugh. I
knew better than to think making light of his young love would help anything.
“She was your first serious girlfriend, huh?”

He shrugged. “She was my first a lot of things.”

“Aww.” I reached over and rustled his dirty hair. It stayed
rustled when I pulled my hand away. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

“I can’t imagine ever feeling that way about someone else, ya
know?”

“You will though. In time.”

He shook his head.

“So what’s the plan? Spend the rest of the summer sulking in
here so you look like a vampire the first day of sophomore year?”

“It’s not the worst idea. Chicks dig vampires, right?”

“Only vampires that have been in the movies.”

“Damn.” He pulled at the strings on his hoodie.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” I said, “but the chances
of you and Ceci working out long term were pretty slim.”

“Why? Cause she’s in a sorority?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“She was always going to these parties with all these other
guys. It used to make me crazy, and she basically had to go so I couldn’t say
shit or I looked jealous. Which I was.”

“See. That’s something good. Now you don’t have to deal with
that bullshit anymore.”

“And I was pretty sick of her pissing my bed.”

I cocked my head.

“Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Of course not.”

“It was only when she was really drunk.”

“I should hope so.”

“And there is one other good thing about us breaking up.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s done wonders for my song writing. My creativity is at an all-time
high.”

“That’s great news.”

“Have you ever broken up with someone and then, like, given
people really inspired haircuts?”

I laughed. “I’ve given some decent makeovers to people who were
looking for a fresh start, but to be honest, I try not to let my emotional
state affect my work that way.”

He nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Dad’s all worried about the fact that you’re spending so much
time strumming and forgoing food, but he has nothing to worry about, right?
You’re just working through some stuff?”

“I do get down sometimes though, Luce.”

“What times?”

“I don’t know. Like when I think about my other prospects.”

“Why?”

“Cause there aren’t any other girls in my group of friends who
I’m attracted to.”

“I’m sure there are hundreds of girls just as hot as Ceci on
your campus.”

“Logically I know there must be, but I have no idea where they’re
hiding?”

“Gimme your phone.”

“Why?”

I stuck out my hand. “Just give it to me.”

He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and handed it to me.

“Have you heard of Tinder?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried it?”

“Of course not. Ceci would’ve killed me.”

“Oh, right.” I searched for the app and hit install. “Well, you
don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it, but I think it might help speed up
the process of getting over Ceci.”

“I’m willing to try anything.”

I became aware of an odd pile of socks on the floor before turning
back to the phone. “Alright, you have to choose a few pictures so girls can see
what you look like. How about this one?” I held up the phone. “It shows your
face nice and clearly so you’ll only get people who genuinely think you’re
cute.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“And this one of you snowboarding is good.”

“But my face is covered.”

“Yeah, but it shows that you’re athletic. That matters.”

“Girls are so picky.”

“Just wait until you start using this thing. You won’t believe
how picky you are, too.” I entered a few more essential details. “Okay, you can
go back and change your profile later. It’s fine like that for now. Most people
will judge you by the outside anyway.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“Don’t be freaked out. You’ll never even know if someone you
liked doesn’t like you back.”

“But won’t it be obvious when we don’t get matched up?”

“You’ll have forgotten about them already. Trust me.” I scooted
next to him and held the phone up so we could both see. “I’ll just show you how
to use it really quick and then you can try.”

“Alright.”

“So here’s the first girl. Do you like her?”

“I don’t know.”

“So if you click this camera icon, you can check her out some
more.” I switched between the pictures.

“Whoa- deal breaker,” he said when he saw a photo of the girl covered
in kittens.

“They might not be hers.”

“Honestly, my allergies are so bad even photos of cats make my
eyes itch.”  

“Right, so we’ll swipe her away,” I said. The next girl popped
up wearing a sexy nurse’s costume.

“I like her.”

I rolled my eyes and swiped right.

The next five girls were all no’s.

“This is kind of fun,” Alex said.

“I thought you might think so.”

I froze when I got to the next girl.

“She’s hot. I like her. A blond would be a nice change after
Ceci.”

“She’s too old for you.”

“No she’s not. She’s only twenty three.”

“Oh my god you’re right.”

“Swipe right.”

“No.” I moved the phone out of his reach.

“Why not?”

“Cause I know her.”

“Maybe I’d like to get to know her, too.”

“You wouldn’t,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“Cause she’s a bitch.” I clicked on the camera so I could scroll
through the other pictures. “Hold on a second.”

Alex folded his arms over his chest.

A picture of Chelsea pouting into the camera was followed by one
of her taking a selfie in a bathroom. The next one was her “working out” though
I suspected “modeling sportswear” was a more accurate description of what she
was doing. I couldn’t believe I was seeing this. I lowered the phone to my lap
and swallowed.

“What’s going on, Luce?”

“This girl is dating my friend.”

“Oh shit. What’s she doing on Tinder then?”

“I’d like to ask her the same question.”

I swiped Chelsea’s picture away and handed the phone to Alex.

“You okay? You seem kind of upset.”

“I am upset. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Tell my friend
his girlfriend is on Tinder?”

“Maybe she’s just doing it for fun,” he said.

“And maybe she’s cheating on him.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I would want to know,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I would
definitely want to know.”

“Is there any way I could tell him without actually telling
him?”

“You mean like fix it so he found out without you having to be
involved?”

“Yeah.”

“Why can’t you just tell him?”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“But if you don’t tell him, aren’t you sort of hurting him by
omission?”

“Shit. Is that even a thing?”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe you could just confront her. Tell her if
she doesn’t tell him then you will.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But maybe I shouldn’t get involved.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Seems to me you already are.”

When I got home, Chelsea was out.

There was a note on the fridge saying she was staying the night
at Bianca’s so they could go to an early casting call the next day. I figured
her staying there was partly because I’d made her uncomfortable by broaching
the topic of her not eating habits.

Unfortunately, I also knew her and Bianca’s favorite thing to do
was get together and avoid food. On the plus side, I had the place to myself
for the night which was fine by me.

After all, I had a stressful day at work trying to train a new
assistant and my hands were wrecked from working knots out of the team all day.
I had just enough energy left to order some food and pass out. I dialed the
number for India Gate and asked for the chicken korma and a side of onion
bhajis.

I tried not to eat take out often, especially take out from the
deliciously greasy Indian place, but I couldn’t skip an opportunity to eat
something fattening in peace. Normally when I got it, Chelsea would stare at me
like a stray dog while I ate, her eyes growing momentarily wider every time I
lifted a bite to my mouth. But no matter how drunk we were or how hungry she
was, she never let herself try any.

In fact, I got the sense that she felt guilty just breathing in
the smell of the nutty curry and the aromatic naan. She was so sensitive to it she’d
probably be able to smell traces of it in the house when she got home.

If only she could gain weight from merely sniffing Indian food.
I’d waft it under her nose while she slept.

I walked to the fridge to grab a beer. When I set it on the counter
and popped the top off, my eye was drawn to an enormous pile of laundry flowing
out of the laundry closet into the hallway. I took a sip of crisp ale and then
set the bottle down, rambling towards the mountain of dirty clothes.

I knew once I was full of Indian food, the chances of me peeling
myself off the couch and doing any chores was nil, so I bent over and grabbed a
pile in my arms and stuffed it into the metal drum. I could feel the muscles in
my hands aching as I grabbed the remaining handfuls and crammed them in.

And then something stopped me.

I squatted down and picked up the black panties. Her black bra
was there, too, right at the bottom of the pile. I closed my eyes and tried to
think.

We hadn’t had sex all week. And last week, the only time we did
it was in the shower when she offered herself up as an apology. There was no
reason for her black panties to be dirty. She only wore them when she knew she
was going to get laid.

I tilted my head to the ground. Green for luck, purple when
she’s stressed, pink when she’s trying to catch my attention… I couldn’t
remember what blue and red were, but black- black was definitely for when she
intended to get fucked.

I clenched my jaw and breathed through my nose. Then I dropped
the panties on the floor and kicked them to the side of the hallway. The back
of my neck felt hot. Something wasn’t right.

I went back to the counter, grabbed my beer, and sat down on the
couch. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. After all, maybe her other
underwear was just dirty so she grabbed the black ones. That’s what a normal
girl would do.

But Chelsea wasn’t a normal girl. She was obsessive, methodical,
controlling. I’d seen her get borderline hysterical over the right underwear
not being clean.

And the black ones? They were sacred. They were fancy. They
would fall apart if they were over washed or over worn.

When I realized I was still clenching my jaw, I tried to relax.
I didn’t want to give myself a headache… or make the one I already had any
worse.

I grabbed her laptop off the shelf under the coffee table and
opened it. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for or expecting to see, but I had
to do something and I couldn’t go out because I had to wait for my food.

How dare she fuck with my Indian when she wasn’t even here?!

Unfortunately, I had no idea what her password was.

Much to my dismay, it wasn’t “I love Aiden.” Or anything else I
could think of for that matter.

I closed her laptop and put it back where it was.

I needed to try and think rationally. I decided another beer might
help. I went to the fridge, grabbed another, and sat down on the couch again, stretching
my sore hands.

It was time to look at the facts.

She was wearing her sexy underwear for some other reason than to
entice me. But that was all I had as far as proof that she might be cheating on
me.

As far as reasons why I might want to think about ending things
anyway, I had a much easier time coming up with a list.

First of all, even though she was hot, her maturity hadn’t
progressed past that of a nineteen year old girl for reasons unknown to me,
though I suspected malnutrition. As a result, I felt like a babysitter most of
the time.

On top of that, she lied to me about not having her wallet at
least once. Maybe it was an accident. Or more likely, she thought I was a cash
cow and would rob me of any money I had now and any wealth I managed to build
in the future.

What’s more, she hated my best friend with a passion. That alone
was probably reason enough, especially considering that Lucy was super sweet
and always had my best interests in mind.

Most of all though, she didn’t love me. She said she did, but
love was more than saying sorry with blowjobs. A whole lot more. It had to be.

And I wasn’t blind. Chelsea didn’t go out of her way to flirt
with me like she did when we were first going out. She was fun and carefree
then. That’s what attracted me to her. She was focused and passionate and
thoughtful.

But that wasn’t the Chelsea I was sharing my bed, my life, and
my car with these days. She’d changed, and not for the better.

And maybe I’d changed, too. Either way, it was becoming
increasingly clear that the ways in which we were changing weren’t
complementing each other. On the contrary, we were probably bringing out the
worst in one another.

And last but not least, I was obviously a huge disappointment to
her.

Not that she would ever admit it, but when she met me I was an athlete,
and not just an athlete, but a star. I was going places, places she wanted to
go, places she wanted to be seen. And in my heart, I knew that my personal setback
wasn’t one she was prepared to cope with. She’d done her best, but the truth
was that neither of us was the person we were when we got together initially.

And whether or not she was sabotaging our relationship on
purpose or only subconsciously, there was very little left to salvage, and even
less to fight for.