Day 2

Up there is the sky, so far away,
Below is the soil where our lies lay.
We pass between, all night and day,
And wisdom comes as we learn the way.
- from A Journey Between Up and Down, A. Lee

I slid into the booth at Denny's across from BF. She looked like she hadn't slept any better than I had. She was tousled, wearing an over-sized cotton sweater, black of course. We dress our moods, we two. She had a piece of paper, folded in half, and I could see her handwriting through the back. I ordered coffee when the waitress came. BF just stared at me, her face unreadable. When we were alone, she began to speak.

"First some ground rules. You wanted to talk, but this time you will listen to me until I am done, or I swear I will leave and never speak to you again. Nod if you understand and agree."

I nodded, acid eating at my stomach.

"I am speaking to you as a friend, and I am still your friend, grudge fuck aside. I am going to say hard things to hear, but when I am done I want you to go see your Mom and tell her everything I've said, everything that's happened. Then the two of you can decide what you want to do with my offer."

I nodded again, confused and wary.

"You are a wonderful and trusting person. My oldest and dearest friend. You are smart and strong. You are also a naive twat."

I was taken aback and had to bite my tongue to keep from making a comment.

"You are a naive because you fell for a long con, or the start of one anyway. You think of yourself as a woman now, but you are just a woman-in-training. The person you select to be your trainer, consciously or unconsciously, will shape how most of your relationships will play out for the rest of your life. This is the real serious business."

She opened the paper and glanced at it. It seems she had to bring notes to remember all she wanted to say.

"Your story was lovely, captivating and well-written. It also had plot holes I could drive my car through. Foremost, young men traveling to see their family do not carry massage oil and lube on a whim. Second, gorgeous musicians do not need to look very hard to find a girlfriend. Third, and most worrying, men who truly care about you do not go bareback, without protection; ever. That was SO FUCKING DUMB."

Every cell in my body demanded I defend him, but I knew she was serious; she would leave and never speak to me again. She does not bluff.

"When I read your story, I wasn't crying because I was moved, I was crying because I already know how it will end. I said I was sorry, not because I missed this milestone of yours, but because best friends should be there to keep from doing stupid things like this. Because I let my anger and pain get the better of me for my own personal satisfaction, I failed you in this, and for that alone, out of everything I've done, I am sorry."

She had tears standing in her eyes. I felt battered by her words, bruised by her pain. I felt sick to my stomach and had to bite my tongue to keep from trying to comfort her, to say something in my defense.

"Yes, I am jealous. Yes, I love you and want you. I would die happy if you had given yourself over to me like you did to him. I would also be happy if you found someone who loved you like I do. But tempering that is the fact that I have been your friend for your entire fucking life and, above all other considerations, I want you healthy, strong and in control of yourself. Notice I didn't say happy? That's your Mom's thing, not mine."

"So here is the deal. You gave him one week in your bed. Whether you are willing to admit it or not, he has begun your training already. I want the chance to fix what he's already starting to ruin. Go tell your Mom that you will be staying in my apartment with me for one week. I get equal time. I will be taking you to the clinic tomorrow to get you checked out and put you on the pill, because I really do love you. Then I take over your training."

She slid out of the booth, bent down to look me right in the eye.

"If you are not at my door before 8pm tonight, don't ever call me again."

Then she leaned in and kissed me gently, mouth closed, her breath tickling my face as she inhaled deeply, breathing my scent. And then she left.

I sat there after she left trying to process the whole thing. I felt like I was in a dream, that none of this was really real. My best friend, who I couldn't imagine life without, was willing to completely cut me off over me finding a boyfriend. What did she imagine was wrong with him? I couldn't think; my brain was tired and I was hurting too badly to sort it out.

I finished my coffee, paid for us both and drove home. Mom and I sat at the dining room table while I shared what BF had said, but not what we had done. She knew we had had a fight about him, but not the details. She looked at her hands when I told her about BF's three main points. When I finished, she said, "Go and get ready, I'll drive you over."

I was stunned. My Mom, who never spoke that well of BF on the best of days, seemed to agree with her. I was numb as I walked to my room to put together what I needed to be away for a week. Then I sat in the car as we drove, lost in thought, trying to find that confidence in him I felt so keenly just one day ago.

I stood at her door for a long time, holding my bag, feeling like I was Alice looking down the rabbit hole. She must have been standing at the door, because when I knocked she opened it immediately. She was wearing a white robe, with bare feet and damp hair. She stepped back to let me in, taking my bag from my hand as I walked by.