Dreams of 18

How visible and breathtaking.

You make a man go bad…

Just as I reach that line of his whole spectacular speech, I come and I know what to say to him. To my fantasy Mr. Edwards and the one who called me beautiful tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Edwards.”

He called me beautiful.

Beautiful.

Me?

No, actually he called me beyond beautiful. He said that I have the power to distract a man, make him forget things. Things that are important to him.

I feel like a butterfly this morning. Pretty and beautiful. Made and metamorphosized just by his words.

Made into a dreamer, even.

Because I dreamed about him last night. Not only that, I played with myself. Something that I hadn’t done in months.

Oh God, it was so good though. So good to come like that, come on his sheets and I’m still riding the high of it that I don’t even feel embarrassed about it.

Not at all.

Maybe once I wake up and see him, I’ll be shy but not right now.

Right now, I wanna dream more and I would if not for the horrible ringing of the phone.

Jesus Christ, who’s calling me?

I’m not even sure what time it is as I fumble around the bed, looking for my stupid phone. Keeping my eyes shut, I hit accept; I get it right on my third try and mumble, “Hello?”

The voice on the other side makes me pop my eyes open. Not only that, it makes me spring up on the bed and pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

Because the voice belongs to my best friend.

It belongs to Brian.

Oh my God.

“Brian?”

“Hey, yeah. Did I… Did I wake you?”

Oh my God, I’m hearing my best friend’s voice after ten long months. “I… Yes, you did. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t…”

I’m trying to breathe. I’m trying to calm my heartbeats. I can’t believe what’s happening. I even take the phone away from my ear to read the display and it does say Brian.

“Vi?”

I put the phone back on my ear and clutch it with both hands. “You’re calling me.”

I hear a rush of breath and it makes me almost double over with nostalgia. It means he’s either smiling or shaking his head while smiling.

“Yeah. I am,” he says.

“How are you calling me?”

I think the last thing he said to me was two days after the kiss, after multiple attempts of me trying to talk to him: Please, Vi. Just leave me alone, okay? Stop calling me. Stop coming over to my house.

That’s all.

That’s all he said to me before he went away and never said anything up until today.

He sighs then. “I, uh, I should’ve called way earlier than this.”

He sounds guilty. He sounds as if it’s his fault that he didn’t call, that he didn’t want to talk to me. When I was the one responsible for everything.

“Brian, it’s… okay. It’s okay. I know why you didn’t call. I know why you never picked up my calls, either. I know. I fucked up and –”

“Vi, stop. Stop, okay? Just stop.”

I do. I go silent.

He’s breathing hard; I can hear it. He’s preparing to say something and I can only hope that I can bear it.

God, please let me bear it.

“Vi, I’m sorry.”

He tells me that and I think I’ve heard it wrong.

I think I’m hearing things.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Vi. I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice sounds clear and low, as if he somehow moved closer to the mouthpiece and wanted me to hear it clearly.

“For what?”

“Fiona,” he replies and I clench my eyes shut.

Up until he said it, I didn’t realize how much it had hurt me. How betrayed I’d felt when I found out. Brian always used to jump to my defense whenever Fiona would say something cutting to me. He used to be my champion, but overnight everything changed.

But then again, it’s not as if I’m very innocent in all of this. I pushed him toward her.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know why you did it. I hurt you and betrayed you, Brian, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all of that.”

“God, no, Vi. Listen, I’ve been a punk, all right? I’ve been a fucking asshole to you. I got so mad and Jesus, I acted out in the worst possible way. But I broke up with her. I broke up with Fiona. Not that it changes anything but yeah.”

“You broke up with her?”

“Yeah. It was long overdue. I was with her for all the wrong reasons.”

I can’t deny the ease that spreads through me at this. “I’m sorry. Did she take it okay?”

“Nah. She was shrieking. I cut the call in the middle of it.”

Despite everything, I chuckle. “Oh my God, she’s not gonna like that.”

“Yeah, I’ll pay for that later.”

I chuckle again.

He’s right. Fiona is spending her summer in Paris this year and yeah, he’s gonna pay for it when she gets back.