Faithless (18+)

I pulled away from my mother’s house close to four o’clock to drive the five minutes to what used to be Astrid’s parents’ house before they passed. It felt sort of…cathartic pulling up to my best friend’s childhood home when it didn’t belong to its original owners, but their children—or child, I should say—instead.

Astrid—despite debatably being the favorite between her and her older brother, Axel—did not get anything from her parents besides some money and valuables; instead, her mother and father left the more ‘adult’ things for Axel to handle, and that involved their real estate portfolio. Which, if anyone knew Astrid, they’d quickly acknowledge that it was better off that way; the girl couldn’t keep her bank account from going negative all throughout high school despite having a strict budget, and her parents bailed her out every time.

Axel, on the other hand, was much more responsible—and again, older—so it only made sense when the heavier things fell into his lap. That didn’t mean that I agreed with it, though. He lost his parents just as much as she did, but had to deal with much more in regards to legal bullshit, while Astrid got to grieve on lavish vacations and wear, then lose, their mother’s jewelry as if it was hers.

I loved my best friend, don’t get me wrong, but she had trouble seeing things for what they were sometimes, and she was a fucking nightmare to deal with when it came to anything worth thinking about. That’s why our relationship stalled right after high school, around the time I’d married Justin, actually. She told me it was stupid to get married so young, that just because he was in the Navy, I didn’t have to become a stereotype for some money, but it was never about that—at least not for me. I loved Justin with everything in me, and after spending years of my life obsessing over and saving myself for Axel—as if he’d ever have noticed me in that way when he was four years older and obviously didn’t see me as anything other than one of his little sister’s weird friends that he liked to tease—I finally found someone who was a little bit older, mature, and extremely good-looking.

Why wouldn’t I marry him?

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t feel a strange twist in my gut as I got out of my mother’s van and stared up at their house. It felt like a fever dream being back after three and a half years, but it’d changed so little. Then I chastised myself for expecting a stationary building to have changed as much as a person would.

I felt ridiculous—especially when the front door flew open and Astrid’s bright blue eyes were the first thing to greet me.

“Oh. My. God. JADE!” she squealed and launched herself forward, almost sending us both careening down the front steps as she wrapped her arms around my neck, “it’s been way too fucking long! I’ve missed you so, so, so, so much!”

“I’ve missed you, too!” I laughed, loving the genuine surprise on her face when she pulled back to look at me, “I figured it’d be a good surprise, but I feel bad for crashing,” I said, referring to the plans she’d told me about when I feigned not being able to make it for her birthday a few nights ago, “is anyone here yet?”

Astrid shook her head, “No! Not yet, I’m still getting ready,” she said, looking down at herself in PJs with a smile before leading me inside and not hesitating for a second to whip my jacket off my arms and hang it up on the rack beside the door, “the girls know not to come until closer to clubbing hour, otherwise they’ll be waiting forever!”

“Sounds about right,” I mumbled, memories of the mornings I had to pound Astrid’s front door down until someone, usually Axel, woke up and opened it for me so I could help her get ready and to school on time, flashing through my mind. It was ridiculous how high maintenance Astrid was, but nobody but her brother, parents, and me truly understood the extent of her helplessness.

“Oh, shut up,” Astrid sighed, then gagged when she went to grasp my hand and felt my wedding band, “gross, you’re still married to that guy?”

I rolled my eyes, “You know I’m still married to him, so why are you surprised?”

Astrid shrugged and took her spot at the kitchen island where she’d clearly been working on her hair and makeup prior to me showing, “I don’t know, you were telling me you couldn’t come because Justin hates when you leave base, but now here you are. So I assumed you must’ve gotten into some huge fight because you chose me, your lifelong best friend, over him and his weird controlling ways, and moved home in a hurry.”

I pouted my lips at her elaborate tale, then shook my head with a laugh, “Yeah, no. First of all, sorry to break it to you, babe, but Justin and I are happily married and I don’t plan on divorcing him, like, ever. So you can get that thought out of your mind, and second, I said that so I could trick you into thinking I wasn’t showing up so that when I did, it was more of a shocking surprise. And was it not?”

Astrid took a deep breath through her nose and shrugged again, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just have my…feelings about him taking you away from me, I guess.”

Here we go again with this bullshit.

“Justin didn’t steal me from anyone, I willingly went on my own,” I said, then turned and went for what I remembered to be the liquor cabinet, “now, I need some alcohol, and you definitely need some alcohol. You’re twenty-one today and you aren’t even drinking yet—that’s blasphemy if I ever heard it!”

I moved through the house with ease, nothing having changed its spot since we were kids really helped with that, and before I knew it, I was headed for the refrigerator for some ice to blend up with my homemade margarita concoction. I wasn’t paying attention as I opened it, but when I closed the refrigerator door, my eyes snagged on a familiar face, and then I gathered it was me that I was recognizing.

Me, wrapped up in one of Axel’s arms just as Astrid was on the other, smiling big for the camera, and it instantly sent me reeling back to that day, because that was the day I realized that Axel would never look my way, not in a million years, but I still vowed to try anyway. I was thirteen, Astrid was twelve, and Axel was seventeen—we’d been jet skiing and wake boarding all day, all the adults were drunk and not paying attention, and as we sat on the loungers at the back of the boat, he’d said he liked girls who were dumb and blonde, that way you knew you could keep them happy easier; if they were smart and brunette like me, they were too hard to please because they knew they deserved better.

That moment felt, weird, to say the least. It was the first time a compliment hurt, but despite that, I still pursued him—or what a kid would consider pursuing—until he went away for college and I was forced to forget about him; so didn’t that make me just as dumb?

My gaze flicked to another photo, a much more recent print-out, judging by how perfectly curled the edges were, and I genuinely lost my breath. He was—

The doorbell rang and Astrid squealed, “Oh, that has to be my DoorDash!”

“Your DoorDash?” I echoed, watching as she pranced out of the kitchen to answer the door. I had to swap out the ice for fresh cubes, not wanting a watered-down drink, and shaved it down into two glasses by the time she came back, “what’d you get?”

“Well, you said it’s a crime not to be drinking, so I thought I’d use my new privileges to get alcohol delivered!” she mused, whipping out random bottles of all sorts of liquor.

“That’s one way to redeem yourself,” I giggled, clinking shot glasses with her and throwing back some strong-ass tequila.

Astrid put on some music and we danced around her kitchen as we drank our frozen lemon-lime margaritas, and as my head began to swim—I didn’t drink often, so I wasn’t that surprised it happened so quickly—she pulled me close and hugged me tight.

“I missed you so much, Jade,” Astrid breathed, hot tears landing on my bare shoulder, but I didn’t say anything—just held her tighter as she sniffled, “I don’t know how I’ve been living without you.”

“Me neither,” I laughed, my voice cracking with emotion.

Astrid laughed, too, wiping her tears. “Ugh, no crying on my birthday!” she groaned, but then she saw the black on her grey shorts where she’d wiped her tears off her fingers, and screamed, “oh, fuck my makeup!”

I drunkenly shook my head, a smile on my face as I guided her by the shoulders to sit on the designated makeup chair, “Let me help you—just…promise to stop crying.”

Astrid’s blue eyes were bright against her tears as she overdramatically sniffed and held the paper towel I’d offered to her waterline to capture the moisture, “Thank you, sissy.”

I sighed at the nickname and blew a raspberry at her before taking a drink of my homemade Tequila Sunrise, trying to fight the burning behind my own eyes. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss this. Miss her. Miss home. But I loved Justin and I’d follow him anywhere, even if that meant never seeing anyone I loved again.