I had my reasons for my feelings. As kids, she failed me in a moment of need, and that felt like utter betrayal. She had been loved by two parents, who had seemed to be pretty okay. Then again, I wasn’t an expert on what good parenting looked like. While she only had a normal life for seventeen years, she had more normal than I would ever have, and that bothered me.
Did the world owe me that? Probably not. I was a dick. But it would have been nice if the universe threw me a bone once in a while.
Emma had everything I had really wanted, and she had it so effortlessly. As a small child, I was happy for her and by default got to enjoy what she did. She shared her toys and her snacks, but there was more to friendship than that. She proved she wasn’t a good friend, so I burned that bridge long ago and then stood in its fiery flames, poking the ashes whenever I had the chance.
Now, I felt an all-consuming anger toward Emma. No one had too high expectations from her; there was no one to smother her. She had no one to answer to for her life decisions. She could just exist outside of a microscope, without being spied on. That might be where my true envy lay. I was jealous in mart because of the situation I put her in.
I was on the highway now, heading downtown. I knew exactly where to go to let off my steam, the club. The DJ would play good music, and I could get discounted booze.
I would drink away today’s pain, today’s reminders that I would never be good enough. I wouldn’t be good enough for my father, who never taught me what good enough was. I wouldn’t be good enough to ever earn Emma’s forgiveness.
Did I want it? It depended on what day you asked. Some days I missed having my best friend living just across the lawn. Other days I caught glimpses of her that gave me that knee-jerk guy reaction, the one where you wanted to fall in love with the girl next door. The remainder of the days, I didn’t care. The young Riley knew what he was doing when he told Emma he hated her.
In summary, I was a mixed bag who didn’t know what he wanted. A mixed bag full of anger, self-loathing, jealousy, and lust for the girl next door.
I made a promise to myself seven years ago to forget about the part of me that still needed Emma. I couldn’t do that completely, and that made me even angrier. I would feel so much better about her hatred toward me if I could commit the same hatred back, one hundred percent. My heart wasn’t a complete block of ice, and that’s my problem.
I parked my truck and walked up to the front of the line. The bouncer let me walk right on through. I pulled a girl from the middle of the line along with me.
My good deed for the day was accomplished.
“Hi, I’m Marly,” she shouted at me as the music from the club took over the space.
“Riley,” I offered.
“I know who you are,” she said.
“Do you?” I asked.
Her words were a gentle stroke to my ego.
“Mhmm, I’ve seen you ride, and can I just say you look yummy in those tight, dirty jeans?” she asked.
“Of course you can,” I said back, a smile growing across my face.
“Let’s dance,” I told her, taking her hand.
“Amongst other things,” she said.
Who the hell needed Emma when I could pick up a girl like Marly?
Her tight dress clung to her form. Her high designer heels gave her an extra couple inches of height and confidence. She was not the kind of girl you “brought home to Momma.” Good thing I didn’t have one to bring her home to.
She grinded up against me.
Emma who?
We got a drink at the bar and then danced some more. She shimmied up against me, and I lost all control.
Three drinks later and lots of foreplay on the dance floor had me bringing her home.
That’s right, who needed Emma when I could have fine girls like Marly?
Three
Emma
It was four in the morning when I heard Riley’s truck making its way up the drive. The headlights flashed briefly through my windows. I heard the bass in his speakers, a fast beat that I could feel the vibrations of, even though I was lying in my bed. I wanted to rip the stereo out of the dash and then beat him in the head with it, over and over. He was so protective over that truck, I wasn’t even allowed to gaze in its direction without feeling Riley’s wrath.
