She hesitates for a moment before stepping inside.
I take a seat on the couch and motion for her to join me if she wants to. She chooses to stand. I let the silence hang between us like a taut guitar string, trying to ease some of the tension.
“Let’s just back up a second.” I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “How did you find out about me and Ben?”
“Nate told me,” she says, as if that’s the obvious answer.
“And how did he find out about it?”
“He saw you guys kissing at the gym.”
So, I realize, Nate did recognize Ben’s body from the photo. I can’t say I’m surprised; Ben’s physique is rather...distinct. I wrack my brain for any recollection of a slip-up at the gym, a moment of weakness when Ben and I couldn’t resist each other. But in spite of our all-consuming passion, we’ve been very good about keeping things professional at the gym. Unless Nate happened to be there the night Ben took my virginity, there’s no way he saw us kissing.
“Crystal, Nate couldn’t have seen us kissing at the gym.” When she starts to protest, I cut her off with, “I know this because I know exactly how Nate found out about us. He found out through my blog.”
“What blog? You keep mentioning this blog like I’m supposed to know what you’re talking about.”
Finally, she sits down on the opposite end of the couch. I know I don’t owe her an explanation. But, as much as I’d prefer to keep some semblance of my privacy, I want Crystal to know what Nate’s been doing behind her back. We may never be able to repair our friendship, but I care about her enough as a person that I don’t want to see her get taken advantage of.
“I have a blog about body positivity. It’s not popular or anything, but I like helping people feel comfortable in their own bodies. One of the ways I do this is by posting pictures of myself doing yoga. And—” I take a deep, fortifying breath. “—sometimes I don’t wear clothes in these photos.”
Crystal’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“A couple of weeks ago, Ben stayed overnight, and the next morning we did yoga and took a photo.” I gesture down my body, trying to skirt around having to say, Yeah, I took naked yoga photos with your uncle.
Her face glows pink and I know she understands the implication.
“I posted the photo on my blog and a few days later, Nate came to one of my yoga classes. He hit on me and told me that he’s been looking at my pictures. Ben walked up to us, and I guess Nate recognized his body type, put two and two together, and, well...” I shrug rather than finish the sentence. Here we are, in my living room, pitting my word against Nate’s once again.
“No,” Crystal says, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, you’re lying. Nate wouldn’t look at your photos. You’re—you’re the one that keeps coming onto him.”
She stands and starts backing away, putting distance between us.
“Crystal,” I say with a sigh. “I swear to you, I’ve never ever hit on Nate. He’s the one who keeps harassing me.”
“That doesn’t make sense! You’re not his type, and you told me yourself he’s never had anything nice to say to you.”
“Yeah, well, if the gross shit he said to me last week is anything to go by, Nate has at least two types. He wants a thin, pretty girl on his arm, and a chubby girl sucking his dick. But he’s too narcissistic and proud to admit his attraction to fat girls, so he keeps that a secret. And I, for one, have no interest in being anyone’s secret.”
But isn’t that exactly what I am? Ben’s dirty little secret?
I bury the unnerving question and focus on the conversation at hand.
Crystal’s eyes glisten as she shakes her head. “Stop it, Skyler. Stop trying to manipulate me!”
“I’m not trying to manipulate you. That’s Nate’s thing.” I rise and take a step toward her. She recoils like I’m contagious, scrambling back toward the door.
“You are,” she sobs. “You’re trying to break us up because you’re jealous of what we have!”
“I think you know that’s not true, Crystal.” I upturn my hands to show I have nothing to hide and sit back down on the couch. “And if you have even one ounce of doubt in your mind as far as Nate’s concerned, you should listen to it. Check his browsing history. I’m positive you’ll find my blog in there.”
For a second, I think I see a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. But it doesn’t last. Crystal shakes her head, rips open the door, and disappears into the hall.
I stay rooted to the couch with my head in my hands, torn between wanting to go after her and wanting to scream in exasperation. When I can bring myself to walk again, I close my apartment door and lean my forehead against it, trying to control the storm of emotions whirling inside me.
More so now than ever before, I crave the safety and security of Daddy’s strong arms around me and his reassuring whispers that everything is going to be all right.
Thank God I work tonight...