Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia
36
Ruby
“Ben is the name of a man. Not some boy, still in love with his best friend.”
Jolene thinks Bennett is in love with me.
The basement stairs creak, and I turn as if I might run, but what the heck kind of decision is that? He clearly sees my car. I’m like a rabbit in a trap.
My best friend might still love me?
Bennett appears around the corner, hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side. I only saw him thirty minutes ago, but he looks more ragged now. His hair is messier, as if he’s been running his hands through it.
I wonder if it’s because of me.
“Did you hear all of that?” he asks.
I swallow, looking to the side, as if some guardian angel will pop out of the wall and help me out here. But that doesn’t happen. It never happens in real life.
I pull my shoulders up and let them drop. “Tried not to,” I admit. “But yes.”
At first, I wonder if he’s going to be upset.
But all he does is take one step forward and say, “I am so sorry.”
“No,” I respond quickly, waving my hands. “No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s intruding.”
“You’re never intruding, Rubes.”
The nervous energy fades from the room, leaving me with that sentence and Jolene’s accusation.
Does Bennett still love me?
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“You still have my work phone,” I say with a weak laugh.
“Oh.” He digs in his hoodie pocket and pulls it out. “Ha. Right. Sorry.”
He takes one step toward me. I take it, my finger sliding over his rough ones.
Bennett loves me?
“Thanks,” I say.
We stand there, me tossing my phone hand to hand and him nodding.
“So.” I break the silence, leaning on the desk beside me, “Ben, huh?”
Bennett swallows, pacing away from me, walking the length of the room. He twists on his sneaker heel, slaps his palms on his thick thighs, and shrugs.
“Maybe,” he says. His voice is filled with heavy breaths and exhaustion. “I don’t know.” He scratches behind his ear, ruffling the long locks of beautiful hair hanging on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s time I embrace my legal name.”
My face falls. I wonder if he means it.
He exhales. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“You like Jolene, don’t you?”
It trips me up, to the point where my palm slips from the desk and I stumble in place. Bennett’s posture falters, his hands reaching out, as if to catch me, but I shake my head and stand up.
“Um … yeah,” I answer. “Of course I do. I’ve always said that. You know that.”
I hold out my palm to him, as if providing a peace offering. But peace for what, I don’t know.
He squints at me, head tilted to the side. “I don’t know if you’ve ever said it.”
I give a laugh that I wish were more genuine. “Well, how often do we even talk about Jolene?”
“It’s weird that we don’t.”
This moment feels so different from when we were in the woods. The longing glances and hands on my waist are gone. We aren’t hanging out as pals anymore; we’re entering the unknown. It’s a reality where Bennett talks about his relationship while the unspoken accusation of you’re in love with your best friend floats in the air. But those words are fading faster by the minute.
“I’ve just been thinking about the future,” he says.
“Not about transporters, I’m assuming.”
“No.” A twitch at the edge of his mouth. “Not exactly.”
“That’s … good.” I force myself to say it.
I look around at the room—the boxes, the mattress, the old computer. This room isn’t what it used to be. We aren’t what we used to be either.
“I do like her.” I blow out a breath, nodding more to myself than him. “I do.”
Silence and then, “I like her too.”
“I hope so,” I say with a snort.
“Yeah. I love her, you know?”
“Oh.” The silly, useless little words catch in my throat until all I have is, “That’s great, Bennett.”
He loves her. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him admit it before. It’s like a fist is wrapped around my heart, squeezing as tight as possible.
His eyes stare at me, then through me, like he’s trying to see past the here and now.
Something buzzes in my pocket. I pocket my work phone and pull out my personal. It’s my dad.
I wince. “I gotta run.”
Bennett’s jaw tenses. “Is that your dad?”
“Yeah. I’m sure he just needs a last-minute babysitter for Lucas or something.”
“It’s nine o’clock, Rubes. You don’t even live there anymore.”
Bennett seems irritated, and I wish I could tell myself I didn’t know why he was angry, but I do. I hate that I’m like this. But Lucas needs me. He needs the mother figure I didn’t have even if it’s in the form of a sister.
I glance down at my phone, then back up. And when I do, he’s exhaling.
“I should go,” I say.
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
I turn to walk out, but his voice follows.
“Hey, Rubes?”
“Hmm?”
That little smile of his returns for half a second. A sliver of light through the door.
“Call me Bennett,” he says. “Not Ben.”
I return his grin. “Only if you never call me Amelia.”
“Never.”
“Good.”
“Night, Ruby.”
“Night, Bennett.”