Bitch

Almost every night since Liam and I had gotten cell phones—so, going on somewhere near ten years—we'd texted or called each other. Some nights it was just to send funny pictures back and forth; others, it was to talk about a show we were watching at the same time; more than a few were spent having heart-to-hearts. Somehow, he had never thought to bring up the fact that he was in love with me.

It was on one of those calls that I told him about my first boyfriend; it was another I told him about when we broke up because I wouldn't put out. Liam knew all about Shaun, the so-called friend I had who insisted on constantly buying things for me. Shaun would buy me lunch or bring me presents or pay for my ticket when we went to the movies with friends. After months of this, he got mad at me when I wouldn't call him my boyfriend.

I told him he'd never asked me to be his girlfriend, and I'd never asked him to buy all those things for me. It didn't seem to matter; he thought I owed him something all the same.

Liam knew about the night I lost my virginity and how I'd insisted on keeping my T-shirt on because I didn't want my boyfriend at the time to see my breasts. He knew how we eventually broke up because said boyfriend was tired of me keeping my shirt on. Liam also knew about the next boyfriend, the one who I nervously undressed in front of and who then wanted to spend all his time touching my breasts, like I'd ceased to exist as a person as soon as I'd removed my clothes.

I was angry. I was so mad at Liam when I got home, so hurt that he'd hidden those feelings from me and went on pretending that we were just friends. The problem was, the more I thought about it, the more the anger changed.

I thought I knew everything about Liam, just like he knew everything about me. I knew he always carried exactly five dollars in change in his wallet. I knew he was terrified of public speaking, alligators, and horses. I knew what he looked like when he was crying; how devastated he'd been when his cat Marshmallow died when we were kids; how he took his coffee and what his favourite beer was. I knew how broken he'd been when his dad had thrown those horrible, terrible words at him, and I knew how hard it was for him to see the way his dad hurt his mom.

Somehow, he'd hidden his feelings from me. Somehow, I'd missed the fact that he loved me. And somehow, he knew exactly how upset I would be when I found out, so he'd kept it from me because he wanted to be in my life. He'd rather hurt himself than hurt me.

And instead of seeing that, I'd pushed my best friend away. I was still angry, still hurt, still upset... but it wasn't all Liam's fault.

A lot of it was my fault.

That night was the first in nearly ten years that Liam didn't text me before bed, and I didn't text him, either. I didn't sleep well, but thankfully, the next day was Saturday and I could lock myself in my room all day using the same midterm as an excuse. When my mom knocked on my door mid-afternoon, I scrambled to pull a textbook onto my lap before she opened the door.

"Thalia? Did you hear me?" she asked.

"No, sorry. I was... focused," I said.

"Of course, sweetie. Your friend is here to see you. No big deal, but next time can you just mention to us if you're having someone stopping by?"

I frowned. "Liam's here?"

Mom shook her head, just as confused. "No, she said her name is Hannah."

If I put my mind to it, I'm sure I could have thought of something that would shock me more. At that moment, though, I was at a complete loss.

"Right," I said. "Sorry. I... forgot."

Mom smiled patiently. "That's okay, sweetie. Do you want her to just come up or did you two have plans?"

"Uh, I'll... yeah, actually, just... I can come down and get her."

Mom waved it off and a few minutes later, Hannah was walking into my bedroom.

"Thanks, Mrs. Taylor!" she called behind her.

I stared at her as she turned to me, confusion and concern apparently clear on my face.

"I wanted to come check on you," she said. "After you left, we were worried, and when Liam came back, he looked upset but wouldn't say anything."

"We? Who do you mean by 'we'?" I asked.

"Well, me, mostly." She invited herself to sit on my bed, bouncing a bit before scooting back to lean against the wall. "Carson was still being kind of a dick but I think he was just trying to save face."

I snorted. "What a surprise."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Why would I tell you, Hannah?" I replied. "No offense, but we're not exactly friends."

"Because we're not exactly enemies, either. And friends or not, what happened with Markus clearly upset you, and whatever happened with Liam clearly made it worse."

I stiffened as she said his name, which didn't go unnoticed.

"So... what happened?" she asked.

"You were right," I said before I could stop myself. "Liam... likes me. Liked me. Loved me? I don't know. I fucked up."

I don't know which of us was more shocked when I started crying. I didn't completely sob or anything, but the moment I felt wetness pooling in my eyes, I viciously brushed my hand across my cheek.

"Are you... crying?"

"Shut up," I growled.

She held her hands up, leaning away from me. "I mean, if you are, it's probably a good thing. It's good to know that you experience some emotions other than anger and being offended."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"No problem. So he finally admitted it, eh? What happened?"

"Why am I even talking to you about this?" I asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Look, I might have been a bitch to you a million and a half times, but... well.. I do respect you, you know."

I snorted and made a strange coughing noise as I tried not to laugh. "Is that so?"

"Okay, well... maybe it's more like I admire some aspects of your personality," she said. "'Respect' is probably the wrong word."

"You literally called me a stupid bitch the other day."

"Yeah, I did," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was being a stupid bitch."

"I don't think you were, actually," she said. "You really didn't know about Liam's feelings, right?"

I cringed and shook my head.

"Well, I'm sorry I accused you of leading him on. Clearly I was wrong. So, what's going on?"

Sighing, I explained. I tried to start with the Markus situation, but before long I was spilling what felt like my entire life story to Hannah. Really, that's where the whole thing had started. I admitted to her how resentful I was about my body, how self-conscious I was, how I felt like I had to be so careful because otherwise people would think I was a slut.

"What would be so bad about that?" she asked.

My mouth dropped open. "What? It would... I mean... no one wants to be known as a slut."

Hannah shrugged. "That's just surprising. You don't seem like the type of person who cares what other people think. If you want to sleep around, sleep around. Who the fuck cares?"

"Well, I don't want to sleep around," I grumbled.

"That's fine too. No one says you have to."

"You literally implied I was dressed like a slut when I was out with Markus."

"Yeah, well, I was a total bitch," she said. "I'm sorry for it. I'm going to try to do better. But honestly, Thalia, it doesn't matter if you have huge tits or no tits, or if you sleep with a new guy every night or are still a virgin. People are going to call you a slut or a whore or a bitch or whatever else you can think of because people are fucking terrible."

When I finally got to explaining what happened with Liam, I broke down again. That time, I didn't try to hide the tears, and Hannah shifted on my bed to sit next to me. I tensed instinctively as she hugged me, but relaxed after a moment.

"I asked him how he could do this to me," I choked. "I can't... he's my friend and... all those times I kissed him or we hugged or... I just feel, like, betrayed."

"He didn't really do this to you," she said, holding my hand. "Like, think about it. He's loved you since you guys were kids. God knows why. It's not like he can control it."

I laughed, a thick, wet sound. "Yeah, God knows why."

Hannah laughed quietly. "I can see why you feel a bit betrayed, but I mean, it's not like he ever tried anything. It's like you said, he'd rather deal with unrequited feelings than just not be a part of your life."

"I don't understand why he'd do that."

"I think the more important question is what you're going to do about it now."

Frowning, I glanced over at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, like it or not, him admitting it is gonna change your friendship. Do you really see him as just a friend? Or is there something more there?"

Something more? I raised my eyebrows but couldn't bring myself to respond. Liam was my friend. My best friend. I couldn't deny that Liam was attractive, or that he was sweet and kind and funny, or that he would probably treat me far better than any other man in the entire world. Even a day earlier, though, if someone had asked me if I'd ever consider dating him, I would have laughed. It wasn't like I'd never thought about it, but I'd never seriously considered it. At least, not consciously.

Subconsciously was another story. How many times had I leaned against him or sought out a hug from him? How many times had I insisted it was just because we were friends, never considering why we were just friends when he made me feel so good? How many times had we kissed, and how many times had I ignored the little jolts of warmth that trickled through me when his lips touched mine? I chalked them up to a physical reaction, but I'd kissed other guys before, and I didn't always feel like that.

With Liam, I'd felt it every time.

"Thalia?"

"I don't know," I said.

"You don't have to know right now. I mean, it's a pretty big thing to think about."

I contemplated silently for a moment longer, staring at the wall.

"I don't deserve it, though," I finally said.

"Why?"

"I've been such a bitch to him." I looked down at my hands, a wave of guilt overtaking any of the other emotions I had. "I mean, not even just yesterday. Why would he want to put up with me? I jump to conclusions, I overreact, I'm moody. I've said mean things to him and I... I haven't even been a very good friend, let alone someone he should... you know. Be with."

"So be better," Hannah said.

"Thanks, that's helpful."

"It damn well should be." She let go of my hand and folded her arms across her chest. "Be better, Thalia."

"How? What am I supposed to do, just start letting people walk all over me? Smile and nod when people are assholes to me?"

She frowned. "You do jump to the weirdest conclusions."

"What?"

"Why would you have to change everything about you? You tell it like it is. You stand up for what you believe in. You take what you want. That's fucking admirable, Thalia. Keep doing that, just stop taking everything as a personal attack."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing. The problem here isn't you standing up for yourself or being a bitch. It's taking things out of context or misunderstanding their intent and assuming everyone is trying to hurt you. All you need to do is listen more."

"And how am I supposed to fix everything, hmm? I fucked up. I don't know if Liam and I are even friends anymore."

She shrugged. "Apologize."

"I don't—"

"You damn well better," she insisted. "You don't need to apologize for who you are. You do need to apologize when you fuck up. Admitting when you're wrong and owning up to your mistakes isn't a sign of weakness. It's what bad bitches do."

I sighed. "Why does it sound so easy when you say it?"

"Because it is. The options aren't just being a doormat or being a bitch."

Hannah grabbed my hand again and grinned.

"You can be that bitch."

"Hello?"

"It's me."

The intercom went quiet for a moment before Liam spoke again.

"Uh, okay. I'll... unlock the door."

I bit my lip as the lock buzzed to let me into the lobby of his building, just then realizing I probably should have called or texted to ask if I could stop by before showing up. Hannah hadn't left until we talked a bit more about all the things I could do to be less of a bitch and more of a bad bitch. Being considerate was one I clearly had to work on.

When I got to Liam's floor, I second-guessed myself. I'd let myself into his apartment a million times, but was that too forward? Was that appropriate given the circumstances? I hadn't decided before reaching his place, so I compromised and knocked before opening the door.

"Can I come in?" I called.

"Yeah," he replied.

I closed the door softly behind me. "I should've called first. Is this a bad time?"

Liam had clearly just pulled on a clean T-shirt and possibly his jeans, as well. His hair was messy, the dark curls shiny and damp. He must have just gotten out of the shower. I tried not to stare at him, but knowing what I did, it was difficult not to appreciate just how gorgeous he was.

"No, it's fine," he said cautiously. "Uh, is there... d'you want something to drink or...?"

"I came over to apologize," I said.

Liam's eyes widened almost comically behind his glasses and I grimaced.

"Apparently I've been such a bitch that apologizing is surprising," I continued. "I just... I'm sorry. I haven't been a good friend to you and you were right about me taking what you said the wrong way. I wasn't doing it on purpose, I don't think. I'm used to having to fight back and I sometimes forget that... well. It just... it's a habit. It was a habit. I'm trying to... I'm gonna try to break that habit."

He didn't say anything and I cleared my throat, trying to prevent myself from curling my shoulders forward as a reaction to my discomfort.

"And I'm sorry for not, um, appreciating you standing up for me. Because you're right, and you didn't have to do it and you still did and I was a bitch about it rather than appreciating that you cared enough about me to take my side. I'm gonna work on that, too. I mean, if... if we're still... if you still want to be my friend."

He still didn't respond and I pressed my lips together, my breathing becoming shakier.

"I'm also sorry for reacting how I did when you told me, um, what you did yesterday. I don't have a way to say that's something I'll work on because the truth is, I was just scared. That doesn't make it any better but I'm still sorry for it."

"Let me ask you something," he finally said.

"Okay."

"If it were you, would you forgive me? If I was the one apologizing right now and you were in my shoes?"

Up until that moment, I hadn't quite figured out if I was trying to salvage our friendship or if I was trying to salvage any sort of relationship with the hope of it eventually becoming something more. Under Hannah's advice, I had finally just decided to go over to Liam's place. Regardless of what my actual feelings were, I needed to apologize, and if I needed more time to think about it, I could tell him that.

When I felt a strange sort of pressure in my chest, like my heart was almost cramping, I knew the answer. Worse, though, was the fact that I had to answer his question, and that I knew the answer would ruin any chance we had before it even began. It would ruin any chance at salvaging whatever friendship we had left.

"Probably not." I hoped he could hear the honesty in my voice, if not the sadness. "Maybe with this whole... you know, trying not to be a bitch thing, I would. But if it was me the way I am... well, the way I was... the way I'm trying not to be anymore, then no. Probably not."

Again, he didn't say anything. Taking his silence as his answer, I smiled sadly at the ground.

"Okay. I'll go, then."

I had my hand on the doorknob when he finally responded.

"Please stay."

Closing my eyes, I sighed.

"Liam, I'm apologizing, but I'm not going to beg for forgiveness."

"I know you won't, and I don't want you to."

I turned back to him warily, finally meeting his eyes.

"I accept your apology," he said. "I always will. You're my best friend and I... Thank you."

Clearing my throat, I tried not to look too relieved. "No. Thank you. I, um, really fucked up. I was terrified you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."

Liam grinned and I fidgeted, trying to ignore how captivating his smile was.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he said, though his cheeks turned red after a moment. "Though, um, I need to apologize too, still. I'm sorry for making things weird. With, uh, what I said. Yesterday."

Another shiver of anxiety ran through me, my stomach turning nervously. "Did you not mean it?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. I meant it."

My mouth was dry and my hands were shaking, not because I was scared but because I knew everything was about to change. At the same time, my heart was fluttering, eager to find out just how willing Liam would be to take that next step.

"That's fucking terrifying," I said. "But if you want to, um, try it. Like, try... us. I'd be interested."

He inhaled sharply and grimaced. "Oh, shit. I thought you meant about being bothered when people are mean to you."

Every muscle in my body went stiff and my face must have betrayed how horrified I was, because it wasn't even a second later that an apologetic grin spread on Liam's face.

"I'm kidding, Thalia," he said. "I meant about being in love with you. That's what you meant, right? Because... like, shit, please tell me you're not joking."

"You're such an asshole," I muttered.

He couldn't quite hide his smile. "I'm sorry. I am, I'm sorry, that was... I mean it was funny, but it wasn't the right moment."

"I don't know if I want to push you off your balcony or kiss you."

"Hmm. Tough choice. Can I decide?"

I tried not to laugh. I pursed my lips and scrunched my nose trying to hold it in, but failed. Half a snort later, he was fighting just as hard as I was not to laugh.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. You can choose."

He pretended to think for a moment. "Okay, the balcony sounds tempting, it really does, but I think I'm gonna go with kissing."

Before I could even stop laughing, he was in front of me, and I was still giggling when he put his arms around my waist and I put mine on his shoulders.

We were both smiling during that kiss; our first kiss, our first real kiss. It was the kiss that mattered, the one that wasn't just because of some pact, that wasn't just a joke or a ploy to win a game of laser tag. It only took one kiss, that first kiss, for us to understand: we were still best friends, and we always would be. We were just best friends who happened to fall in love.

The smile faded a bit from my lips as I realized it, but not because I wasn't happy. It faded because I pulled him against me, because I kissed him just a little bit harder, because I needed to feel his body pressed against mine in one of the few ways I hadn't felt it before. Those little jolts of electricity, the ones I used to ignore, shot through me. I needed more. Not just needed; I craved it, wanted it. I wanted him.

He held me closer, kissed me one more time, then parted from my lips. His forehead pressed against mine and I opened my eyes.

"Do you want to slow down?" he asked gently.

"No," I whispered.

There was a look in his eyes, a vulnerable desire with reluctant hesitance buried beneath it. I brought my hand to Liam's cheek, then brushed a piece of hair off his forehead.

"No," I said again, more confidently. "I trust you."

As soon as I spoke, his eyes filled with solemn sincerity. He nodded and swallowed.

"You can change your mind," he whispered.

"I won't. I want this."

"Thalia, are you—"

"I want you, Liam. Yes."

He made a soft noise and kissed me again, more urgently that time, and I ran my fingers through his hair as I returned it eagerly. Even still, there was hesitation strung throughout him. I couldn't blame him for that. The way his hands trembled just slightly matched the small shivers that ran through me as I realized he was still thinking about me, still worrying, still wanting to make sure I wasn't going to freak out.