Chapter 3
It takes a while for my tears to dry up and it takes some more until I'm ready to resurface from Ghastly's shoulder.
By the time I pull away and Ghastly immediatley breaks away from hugging me, our dorm room door stands open again, with Saracen leaning in the doorframe. I'm fairly certain he watched us in silence for longer than I want to know.
There's a weary expression on his face, a subdued trace of disappointment, a sprinkle of worry and the looming lecture in his eyes.
Yep, he's really quite mad with me.
"How's he doing?", Saracen asks, his gaze fully on Ghastly now.
"Grand," I say with a grin that feels unconvincing, even to myself. "I'm doing grand."
Saracen ignores me, his eyes digging into Ghastly.
"Very hungover and very heartbroken," replies Ghastly. His voice remains gentle but there's an edge to it that I don't like but I can't figure out why it's bothering me.
"Huh," Saracen makes a sound. He shifts his weight, pondering some thought or another, before looking straight at me.
"You drag me to a party, knowing your ex will be there, assumably having your mind set on talking to her, knowing it will probably go badly and already intending on getting wasted should that indeed be the case. That's what happened, I reckon?"
I give him a lopsided, slightly rueful smile, betting on the odds that I can charm my way out of this with my natural charisma and maybe a bit of sass.
Unfortunately, though, Saracen is my best friend and knows exactly what I'm trying.
His gaze hardens and he crosses his arms.
"Don't you dare smile at me like that, Dexter. You puked on my shoes. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get your vomit out again? I asked you to behave and you promised and yet you already knew you wouldn't stick to your promise and you know why I know? You didn't tell me Amara would be at the Party, you acted like a party would get your mind off her! You made me believe I was helping my best friend while said friend was actually on a kamikaze mission!"
I'm baffled. That's surprisingly straightforward and surprisingly early. I thought he'd wait for the lecture until I was, like, more like myself again and had some time to convince myself it was all very much justified, just so that he could crush that belief again.
Ghastly pats my hand sympathetically, gets up from the bed and walks over to the door.
"I'll leave you two to it," he says, giving Saracen a pat on the shoulder and disappears out into the hallway.
Saracen watches him for a moment, then takes a step into the room and closes the door. The second it's shut, his whole composure falters and he sags against the sturdy wooden door in his back, relying on it to keep him up and standing.
I'm feeling insecure and blindsided and slightly hopeful. I don't know what to expect and Saracen already surprised me with his little speech, his lecture on how much I've messed up yesterday, but the way he leans against the wood now makes me optimistic his worry overrides the anger and hurt of my justified betrayal.
Yeah, it wasn't nice luring my best friend into false believes, but I needed to sort things out with Amara and I needed to lose myself before the full weight of the pain had a chance to settle, so all in all, it was quite justified.
"I really thought I was helping you, Dex," Saracen mutters at last. He sounds pretty crestfallen. "I thought you trust me. That's what friends do, right? Trust, honesty, all that?"
I don't know how to answer that. He's absolutely right. Trust and honesty, the deep unspoken certainty that we can rely on each other. That's what makes our friendship so strong, what makes him my very best friend.
"I ... I'm sorry, Saracen," I croak hoarsely. "I didn't mean to —"
"But you did!" he interrupts, anger flaring up in his eyes, his voice regaining strength despite his body still sagging against the door. "I believed you and you lied to me, and worse, I should've known better, right? Oh God, oh God, this is all my fault, isn't it? I didn't read the signs, I let myself be fooled by you because your my best friend and why would my best friend lie to me and —"
"Saracen?"
"— yet he did exactly that, didn't he? But than again —"
"Saracen."
"— I didn't take hormones into the equation, so that's probably the point, right? Oh God, I forgot how you turn into such a hormonal —"
"Saracen! Shut up!", I yell at him, flinching at my own volume. Saracen, bless him, does shut up and blinks at me with an indignant, hurt expression.
"What?" he asks, taken aback by my yelling.
I close my eyes and massage my temples. Great, I just made my headache increase exponentially. I sigh, more over myself than over Saracen.
"Sorry, mate," I say meekly, my eyes still closed. "I didn't want to yell. Ouch, ah, dammit, that hurts. Look, you were rambling. You know how I usually just let you go on when you're rambling? It's quite hilarious, really, but right now, it's not. Sorry. Like, what the hell? You can't blame yourself for that!"
I wave my hand, trying to encapsulate my miserable state and the party from last night.
There's heavy silence from Saracen.
Then, the sound of hesitant steps.
Finally, his weight sinking onto the mattress at the foot of my bed.
"It's true, though," he glooms. "Rationally, I knew you were hurting and not thinking straight and I should've realized partying was a bad idea altogether."
Wow. This ... strikes home, plain and frankly.
There's a lump in my throat and I just can't swallow it down.
I expected him to feel betrayed, yes. I expected him to be mad with me, yes. I expected him to be disappointed about my bad choice of coping, yes.
But I really didn't expect Saracen to blame himself and that hurts a lot more than the lecture I was preparing to hear from my best friend.
I take a deep breathe. My hands are shaking. I take another breath. A third for good measure.
"It really wasn't your fault, Saracen," I say. My voice sounds weird. Frail. I clear my throat before I continue.
"You're right. I shouldn't have lied to you and I shouldn't have broken my promise. I'm really, really sorry, Saracen. I knew what I was doing and I left you in the dark and that wasn't okay, so you're right to be mad at me, but I'm genuinely sorry."
Saracen nods slowly after I finished speaking. He goes to shaking his head, then covers his face with his hands and just sits there like this for a couple of minutes.
Eventually, he takes his hands down again and stands up without looking at me.
"I'm not mad," he states in a sad voice. "I'm hurt, Dexter. Really hurt. Like, what's wrong with telling me you're super-miserable? What's wrong with ... Okay, right, I guess you're just not in for being vulnerable, but I'm supposed to be your best friend. If you need to cry, then for God's sake just cry, you know?"
He falls silent again and I can't say anything. My mouth is dry and suddenly I forget how to speak. There's a chill running over me.
Saracen turns and walks for the door, pausing in the doorframe, still not looking at me.
"I need some time to, like, process this, alright? Try not to do something like that again in the meantime."
And then he's gone, just like that.
I stare at the space where he left.
And then I start to cry again. Ugly, hiccuping, sobbing. At some point, I think, I start screaming but I don't care.
My whole body aches but that pain is nothing to the agony ripping my heart apart.