Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

43

Ruby

Bennett and I journey down into the outdoor amphitheater, where Honeywood hosts Queen Bee and Ranger Randy shows each day. The set pieces litter the stage, looking less thrilling sans the stage lights. I climb the backstage stairs, and when I almost miss one, Bennett’s hands land on my waist, steadying me.

He grunts out something like, “Got ya,” and I mumble back an awkward, “Thanks.”

It’s totally not weird.

But it is.

I step through the stacks of boxes backstage, finally finding the one Lorelei labeled Birthday Buddies. Right on top are purple streamers. I dig them out and toss the rolls to Bennett. He tilts his head to the side.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just … does it look too purple?”

I smile, seeing the twinkle in his eyes. The start of a bit.

“Oh God, yeah,” I say, playing along. “I thought I was gonna be the first to bring it up.”

“It’s Barney purple, right?”

“I think she said it was a dino-themed party, so maybe that’s perfect.”

“Did she?”

“Oh, yeah,” I joke. “Lorelei got the dino costumes and everything.”

“Think we could change it to a fruit party instead?”

“Why?”

He shakes the streamers and grins. “Grape color.”

“Oh, right. Dancing grapes. How silly of me to consider anything different,” I say, taking the streamers from him. “See, but I was gonna pitch vegetables.”

“Vegetables?”

“Yeah, for an onion party. Y’know, so then if I cry, it’d be acceptable.”

Bennett’s eyes swivel to mine. “Wait, why would you cry?”

“I … it was a joke,” I say with a weak laugh. “Turning thirty and all. The big three-oh.”

I wave the streamers around absentmindedly.

This is the worst part about us now. The fact that we can spiral down one of our joke rabbit holes and it feels like the old days, and then somehow, it screeches to a halt with one slightly off-kilter comment. It happens so quick that I can practically smell the rubber burning the road.

Bennett nods to himself, then lets out a small, quick laugh. Almost like he had to work for it.

“Weak bones, and one step closer to a midlife crisis,” he says.

“Ooh, I can’t wait for a crisis.” I crouch down to sit on the edge of the stage. “I’m thinking I’ll buy my mom’s house and get a motorcycle. Oh, wait …”

“Hardy-har,” Bennett says, sitting down beside me.

“What do you have left on your list?” I ask, counting on my fingers. “You’ve got the tattoos …”

“I still have to check off a mental breakdown.”

“Ooh, that’s always a good one.”

“You act like you’ve checked it off already.”

“I’ve broken a few dishes,” I say, and when he laughs, I don’t laugh back because, well, it’s not a joke. I have. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m talking to my dad, so …”

I blink. “Wait, you are?”

“I thought it was a good idea,” he replies, his feet swinging out, the heels kicking the stage. “A good push in the right direction.”

“He sucks though,” I say with a laugh.

Because Ben Shaw does suck and Bennett has no reason to be texting a dad who was absent in his life. I should know.

The ache in my heart immediately wants to accuse, Is Jolene making him do it?

I hate that I jump to that, but I know I’m right. Even if I asked though, Bennett would never admit whether it was her idea or not. Because he loves her. And he’s going to marry her. And if Bennett is anything, he’s loyal.

“So …” He changes the subject. “Thirty.”

“Thirty,” I echo, and the word bounces through the empty amphitheater.

We sit there in silence.

He shrugs. “We made it.”

“We sure did. I didn’t even have to find a new best friend. You really saved me a lifetime of awful friendships.”

“Oh, me too,” he says. “Can you imagine?”

“Would have been too much work.”

“Absolutely.”

“I would have had to open up and be vulnerable and stuff.” I twist my lips and scrunch my nose. “Yuck.”

He chuckles. “Not worth it.”

“Definitely not.”

We exchange smiles, and I should look away, but it’s hard when Bennett’s perfect smile squints back at me.

I am thankful he’s still in my life.

Life might be weird sometimes, but it is good.

Thisis good.

My best friend’s arm bumps against my shoulder, and the roughness of his string bracelet rubs against mine, like they’re two magnets that refuse to part. Just like us.

I melt into the memories, letting my head land on his shoulder. His arm snakes around my waist. It’s comfortable for us. Friendly. The same type of cuddling we did as kids that was innocent and meant nothing.

“Ben?”

And like the nothingness it is, I scoot away once I see Jolene standing at the top of the amphitheater.

I snatch the streamers from Bennett and hold them up like a beacon. “Found the purple ones!”

“Oh,” she says as her eyes dart between us. “That’s good.”

I get up to leave, but Jolene sucks on her teeth.

“Oh, hey, Rubes,” she says. “I’m looking for some string lights too actually. Do you think there’s some back there?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah, we probably have some. I can look for ya.”

And I don’t know why I feel guilty about her walking in because nothing happened. We were just sitting here.

“I’ll meet you at the midway, Ben,” she says, giving Bennett a tight smile.

I walk behind the stage again while they exchange a kiss or something else that couples do that is totally normal and doesn’t at all hurt my soul.

I dig in the box, distantly hearing Bennett ascend the steps out of the amphitheater, feeling the creaking of wood under my feet as Jolene walks behind me.

And then, sharp and to the point, she asks, “What are you doing?”

I straighten up with string lights in my palm. Her hands are on her hips. Her lips are tight and pursed.

“Getting … lights?” I laugh. “What do you mean?”

She throws a thumb over her shoulder. “What was that back there?”

My stomach drops. And because I know I’m not crazy, she has that look. But this time, it’s different. It doesn’t disappear. I can barely register what’s going on because Jolene has never looked at me like this. I see the fire in her eyes, and I don’t like it.

“I … what?”

“Ruby, I like you. But Bennett is marrying me. You know that, right?”

“I …” I let out a small laugh, and I feel so silly and weak. I’m better than this. I’ve grown above feeling like this. “Yes,” I say confidently. “Yes, I know that.”

She squints and takes a step forward. “Do you? Because it seems like every time I turn around for even a second, you’re right back in his arms.”

I shake my head and let out a disbelieving laugh.

“We weren’t doing anything,” I insist.

“Sure,” she says. “But that back there? I don’t want to see that after my wedding.”

Mywedding.

Not our.

I feel like I’m getting reprimanded by a teacher, and the guilt almost swallows me whole, but I shake it off.

“Jolene, nothing is going on.”

“Promise me.”

“Jolene, I promise. I would never.”

“And promise me it never will.”

“It won’t.”

Her jaw grinds.

“It won’t,” I repeat. “Like you said, he’s marrying you. I’m just a girl he’s known since he was a kid.”

I give a shrug. A shrug that shatters me inside because I know it’s true. I’m just the little girl who stuck to him like glue, and I’m still sticking around after all this time. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be for her. How unfair.

She shifts her weight from side to side, her tongue pressing into her cheek. I know I’m not gonna like what she says before she even says it.

“I’d really like it if you weren’t at the party.”

But I didn’t expect that.

It’s a knife cut right to the core of me. A sharp twist in my gut.

My best friend’s fiancée doesn’t want me at my own birthday party.

My thirtieth birthday.

But what do I say? How do I argue when I’m standing here with the promise bracelet I made with him at twelve? When the idea of taking it off feels like a death sentence I don’t want to face? When that’s the only reason this birthday even matters?

How do you tell a bride you’re still in love with her groom?

So, all I reply is, “That’s fair.”

It’s not. Nothing about this is fair. But this is Bennett’s life. I won’t argue with the woman who makes him happy.

“Okay,” I answer, tossing the lights back into the box. “I won’t be there.”

She blinks for a second, like she doesn’t believe me. Like maybe she’s surprised her intimidation worked. I’m not scared of her though. I’m scared of losing Bennett. And going against her? I’d lose him for good.

“Good,” Jolene finally says, straightening her spine and nodding. “Good. I’m glad we had this talk.”

I nod back. “Me too.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Yep.

Happy birthday to me.