Then I notice her. Annie, in the mirror. She’s standing right behind me, waiting for me to finish using the sink. Except there are three more sinks, and zero other people in the bathroom. So maybe it’s just me she’s waiting for.
My head hurts. And so does my heart, around the edges Annie cracked in it two years ago. I can’t talk to her. Can’t. Can’t. I take my time drying my face with my sleeves. Then I buck up, turn around, and face her.
She’s stunningly beautiful. Always has been. There’s something indescribable about her, something magic that made me happy to be in her presence. Oddly enough, the feeling is still there, a mix of familiarity and love and awe that knifes deep as I stare at her face. Seeing Tim again was painful, but it’s nothing, nothing compared to having Annie right here.
For a moment I’m terrified. She can hurt me very, very deeply with just a few choice words. But then she says, “Bee,” and I realize that she’s crying. Judging by the burning in my eyes, so am I.
“Hey, Annie.” I attempt a smile. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah, I... yeah.” She nods. Her lips are trembling. “I love your hair. Purple might be my favorite.”
“Thank you.” A beat. “I tried orange last year. I looked like a traffic cone.” Silence stretches, wistful. It reminds me of when we’d fill every second together with chatter. “Well, I need to...” I move for the door, but she stops me with a hand on my forearm.
“No—please. Please, Bee, can we just...” She smiles. “I missed you.”
I missed her, too. I miss her all the time, but I won’t tell her. Because I hate her. Me and my multitudes.
“I’ve been listening to that album you gave me a lot. Even though I’m still not sure I like it. And last year I went to Disneyland and there was this new Star Wars park and I thought of you. And I haven’t been able to make friends in Schreiber’s lab because they’re all dudes. Total WurstFest™. Except for two girls, but they’re best friends already, and I don’t think they like me much, and...” She’s crying harder now, but also laughing in that self-deprecating way that is so Annie. “So, you and Levi, huh? He’s even hotter than back at Pitt.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”
“You probably made all his dreams come true. He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. Not that I’d seen him happy, like ever, before today.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Actually, Levi hated me,” I say stubbornly.
“I doubt it. Not by any definition of that term. He just really—” She shakes her head firmly. “This isn’t what I came to talk about, I don’t know why I’m going on about stuff that...” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
I could pretend not to know what she’s apologizing for. I could pretend that I didn’t think about her every day for the last two years. I could pretend that I don’t miss the way we’d make each other laugh until our abs ached, but it would be exhausting, and even though it’s eleven fifteen in the morning, I am already so very tired.
“Why?” I ask. A question I rarely allow myself when it comes to Annie. “Why did you do it?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes close. “I don’t know, Bee. I’ve been trying to figure it out for years. I just... don’t know.”
I nod, because I believe her. I never doubted Annie’s love for me.
“Maybe I was jealous?”
“Jealous?”
She shrugs. “You were beautiful. The best in the lab. With the glamorous globe-trotting past. You were always good at everything, always so... so happy and cool and fun. You made it seem effortless.”
I was never any of those things. Not by a long shot. But I think of Levi—impenetrable, cold, arrogant Levi, who turned out not to be impenetrable, cold, arrogant at all. Being so dramatically misunderstood doesn’t seem that unlikely.
“And you and Tim... You and I were always together, but in the end, you’d go home to Tim and I’d be alone, and there was this... thing that I was never part of.”
“Were you trying to... to punish me?”
“No! No, I was just trying to feel... more like you.” She rolls her eyes. “And because I’m a dumbass, I picked the worst part of you to do that. Fucking Tim.” She lets out a bubbly, moist laugh. “We never... It lasted a week between us. And I—I never liked him, you know it. I despised him. You were so much better than him, and everyone knew it. I knew it. He knew it, too. The moment I did it, while I was doing it—I thought of you the whole time. And not just because he was a lousy lay. I kept wondering if doing such an unspeakably bad thing would... elevate me, somehow. Make me more like you. God, I was messed up. I still am.” She wipes her tears with two fingers. There’s already more, flowing down. “I wanted to apologize. But you blocked my number, and I told myself I’d give you space and see you at Vanderbilt. Then the summer passed, and you weren’t there...” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, and I think about it every day, and—”
“I’m sorry, too.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I may not have fucked your fiancé, but I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you felt like you weren’t good enough. You were my best friend, but I always thought you were... invincible.”
We are quiet until she says, “This is in no way meant as self-congratulatory, but I’m glad you didn’t marry Tim. I’m glad you’re with Levi. He’s the kind of person you deserve.”
I don’t see the point in contradicting her. Not when I agree with everything she’s said, including things that aren’t quite true. So I nod and make to leave.