The Writing Retreat(36)

At least today I’d made more of an effort with my appearance, putting on lipstick and a necklace and wearing a loose denim shirt. It gave me a bit more confidence. But the shirt was thin and it was colder in there than the library; I shivered as I dropped into a chair across from her.

“So.” She said the word with faux brightness. “What did you want to talk about?”

It struck me suddenly that this was actually a horrible time for this conversation. She’d just been criticized by Roza in front of all of us. I felt a flicker of fear.

“Well—” I started but she cut me off.

“Because I have something I wanted to talk about too.” She let go of the cord and started twisting her diamond ring instead. Almost like she wanted me to notice it.

“Okay. Totally. Did you want to go first?” I still felt hopeful. We weren’t back in Brooklyn; we were here in Roza’s castle. We could get past things. We could be adults.

“Okay. Totally.” She was mocking me.

My stomach dropped. This was the worst of all of Wren’s moods: when she acted like a thirteen-year-old mean girl.

“Look, I know you’ve been talking shit about me to the other girls”—she brushed back her bangs and crossed one long leg over the other—“and I’m pretty sure you’ve told Roza too. And I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep your paranoid conspiracy theories to yourself.”

“?‘Paranoid conspiracy theories,’?” I repeated. Had Poppy revealed what I’d told the group the first afternoon? She must have. It hurt like a small needle prick.

“Right.” Now Wren wore a quizzical look, like a child wondering what would happen after she pulled all the legs off a spider.

“Okay.” The hope faded and a dull anger started to roil from below. “So tell me. What exactly are these ‘conspiracy theories’ I’ve been spreading around?”

Wren scoffed. “That I ruined your life. Which is pretty rich, considering what you did to me.” She raised her right palm towards me. The signal for Stop. A thin knot of scar tissue ran down the center.

I blushed; I couldn’t help it. Suddenly I was back to that place of uncertainty and shame. But Wren couldn’t have known my intention in that one tiny move on the steps. If she had, everyone would’ve known about it.

“All because you couldn’t just leave it alone,” she went on. “You couldn’t just move on. You had to show up at that party and make a huge fucking scene.”

I exhaled. She didn’t know of my anger; she just knew of my desperation to talk to her.

“Leave what alone?” I forced my voice to sound calm. “And I didn’t tell anyone you ruined my life, by the way.”

“Good. Because I didn’t. We just grew apart. And I actually didn’t go around telling all our friends not to talk to you anymore. People just did what they wanted to do.”

“Okay. But, Wren”—I leaned forward—“we were best friends for eight years. We lived together. It doesn’t all just suddenly end one day.”

“Sometimes it does.” She shrugged. “It happens all the time.”

“Really? And is that usually before or after one friend eats out the other?”

She froze. Her nostrils flared. This was the part we weren’t supposed to talk about. I felt a sudden pleasure in going there, in forcing her to listen to the words. “Look, it was your idea. And yet you treated me like a leper afterwards. Like I’d done something horrible to you.”

“Alex.” She rubbed her eyes. “Jesus. I was wasted. It wasn’t a big deal. But you took it as a big deal and that was the problem.” I scoffed but she shook her head. “No, honestly, that’s how I knew it was a mistake. I thought you could handle it—I mean, my friends and I hooked up in college all the time. But it just made it clear how broken things were between us.”

“Broken?” It felt like my throat was closing up.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “We were so codependent. And that was one thing. But I guess I hadn’t realized that you had feelings for me. And, listen, I’m sorry, but I did not have those feelings for you.”

Humiliation surged and, to my horror, tears suddenly blurred my vision.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry.

“I mean… wow.” I angrily wiped the tears away. “Your narcissism truly knows no bounds, Wren. Thinking everyone’s always in love with you.” I got to my feet. “And I did love you. As a friend. What we did—what you did—was confusing but ultimately it wasn’t something that should’ve ended our friendship.”

She stared up at me, silent and blank. There was nothing there: no kindness, no care.

“But you ruined it,” I went on, a sob wracking my throat. “Like it meant nothing to you.”

“Al.” Her voice was soft and steely. “We need to put it behind us. We’re not friends anymore, and that’s okay. But can you stop going around telling people about what happened? I’m not comfortable with it.”

Anything for Wren’s comfort.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You know, I was trying to be nice to you today. I really wanted us to have a truce or something. But you’re showing me that the best we can do is just ignore each other.”