Ezra and Rya sit down on the couch, facing him.
“Dude, you’ve been treating her like shit,” Ezra says, pointing at me. “What the fuck is up with you?”
Zayn rolls his eyes. “For fuck sakes. She keeps accusing me of cheating.”
Rya sits up taller, narrows her gaze to Zay. “Are you cheating on m…” She stops herself and says, “Her,” pointing in my direction.
My eyes squint over at her. Was she about to sayme?
Does she feel like she’s being cheated on since we’re all so close?
Ez glances at her, taken aback by what she said.
Rya hurries and stands. “Are you?” she yells.
Zayn looks at her, nostrils flaring, jaw tight, and brows knit together, and then he scoffs at her.
I glance between her and Zay. He looks more angry at her now than at me. Is he taking it out on her because we’re best friends?
“You two need to leave this alone,” he yells. “This”—he points at himself and back at me—"is none of your business.”
Rya stands up straighter. Ezra’s head shakes and his eyes go wide. This is nothing new to me, but to them it is. Like I was saying, it isn’t like Zayn to explode like this. They both look taken aback, like I have been.
“What is going on with you? You’re not the same. We’re your best friends. I’m your best friend.” He points to himself. “Talk to me.”
Zayn scoffs. “There is nothing going on. I’m sick of everyone thinking that there is.”
“There is something going on because you’re treating us all like shit?” I say, stepping closer.
Zayn glances at me. “Why’d you have to bring them over here and get them involved? Jesus, Violet. We’re married. This is just a normal marriage argument.”
“What?” I exclaim. “None of this is normal. You treating me like shit is not normal. What has gotten into you, Zayn? The Zayn I know would never treat me like this. Would never talk to his best friends like this.”
He stands, huffing in anger. “Well, maybe I’ve changed. I don’t need any of this bullshit,” he says, walking past me toward the stairs.
“There you go, bailing out again. Why can’t you just sit and talk?”
He turns to me, glaring. “There is nothing to talk about.” He stomps up the stairs and slams the bedroom door, making me jolt.
“See what I mean? This is how he’s been,” I say, staring between Ez and Rya.
Rya shrugs her shoulders. “He doesn’t seem too mad. I think we pissed him off more by coming over here.”
A knot tightens in my stomach as I try to make sense of what she is saying. Does she really feel that way? She makes me feel crazy sometimes at my thoughts, and Ezra makes me feel like my thoughts are valid.
The weight of the night feels less heavy as we head back to Rya and Ezra’s. For the first time in days, I feel like I don’t have to hold it all on my own, even if Rya isn’t a hundred percent on my side. It’s somehow enough because I at least have my two best friends by my side.
“What color are you going to do?” I ask Rya as we sit on her bedroom floor with the smell of acetone and nail polish filling the room.
She tilts her head and looks at me with a side-eye. “I’m going to do blue.”
I nod, finishing up my nail prep before I polish my toes.
This weekend was rough. More than rough. But sitting here now with Rya has been nice. It helps calm my nerves, doing something comforting with her by my side. I’m grateful that the moment we left my house, no one has brought anything else up. I’m sure they both realized how bad the situation really is. Or maybe they didn’t know what to say themselves.
Rya has been a little quiet since we got back from my house. I don’t know if it’s her shock settling in too or what?
A soft knock comes through the room as the door opens up. Ezra walks in with a pizza box in his hand.
