Page 100 of Break the Ice

Oh. Is she just being nosey? ‘Her name is Phoebe,’ I say.

‘She’s pretty,’ she says. That she is. ‘I can’t believe you ended up with a doctor,’ she goes on, and I have to remind myself that’s Phoebe. In between all this party madness, I’m glad the Pattons had the time to have a gossip about my date and for Avery to search her out. I laugh under my breath.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘I can’t believe you ended up with a finance bro,’ I say, looking at my shiny shoes, still unable to make eye contact.

‘So you know?’ she asks me.

‘Only through other people mentioning him,’ I say. ‘How’s that all going? What’s he like?’ I’m not sure why I ask. I don’t need to know. She shrugs and I have no idea what that means.

‘He’s great,’ she says. ‘Daddy thinks he’s going places at Wells Fargo, you know? Could really climb the ranks.’

‘I didn’t ask you about his job,’ I say, laughing.

She goes quiet and takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

‘Joshy, do you remember when we were eighteen and we came to one of these parties and we snuck out, got a pizza delivered and then we ate it on the roof?’ she reminisces.

I smile. ‘Pepperoni, extra cheese,’ I mumble. ‘We could see the fireworks from up there. Got through a whole six-pack of Dr Pepper too.’ I hate how I remember the moment with such clarity.

‘Good times.’

I don’t want to go down this path with her, to re-dredge the past.

‘I don’t have that history with Nav, that level of friendship, you know? It’s been hard to live without it. My Joshy who I could come to about anything. You were so loyal and just always there. You knew me so well. I miss you. Sometimes I’ll be speaking to Nav and realise he’ll never know me like you.’

It’s a weird thing to hear those words, to hear that she still thinks about me or might want me in her life. ‘I sometimes miss you too.’

She puts a hand in mine and I sigh, remembering how it used to fit in there so well. ‘Then we should hang out? You know?’

‘We should? I don’t think that’s a great idea.’

‘It is. I just don’t know why we can’t be in each other’s lives. Why throw away all that history? We were best friends. I want to know about you, who you’re dating. I care about you, I really do.’

And I smile to myself. No. You threw me away. And just like that, I understand the random texts, and I think about what Phoebe said about it being manipulative, cruel. Everything starts to align. She doesn’t want me but she wants to keep an eye on me, she wants to retain the more platonic aspects of our relationship, not out of love or care but so she can control the narrative.

‘I miss you,’ I mumble. ‘I miss all of it sometimes.’ She reaches down to touch my leg. ‘Seven years, Avery. We grew up together, for this large part of my life you were everything.’ But despite my brain being lined with memories of her, the only emotion I associate with her these days is pain. I think about giving my heart to someone and them just tossing it off a cliff. I think about time wasted, all those memories I can’t relive without physically hurting. I feel a tear run down my cheek and let go of her hand.

‘Joshy. I hurt too. Know that,’ she says, trying to touch my arm again, coming in close.

‘What are you doing?’ I say, looking at her.

‘Do you still love me? I didn’t know that.’

‘That’s not what I’m saying, Avery—’ But before I can get any more words out, she leans over, puts a hand to my cheek and kisses me. It’s familiar, but it also tastes of vodka. I push her back. ‘Stop…’

‘But Joshy, it’s me, it’s Avery.’

‘Exactly,’ I say, standing up. ‘How dare you?’

She stands too. ‘You were literally talking about how we spent seven years together, how I was your everything…’

‘WAS – you were. Avery, you broke me. You sent me back a ring in an envelope and told me you didn’t want me and now you want to be friends? You want to trade in random texts so you can keep me in your life?’

‘I want to be your friend,’ she says, trying to play the victim.

‘You want to talk to me, your ex, about how it’s not clicking with your new boyfriend? Do you realise what you’re doing? Go find another friend to talk to about that,’ I say, pointing down the corridor to the hundred-odd acquaintances at that party.