Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(55)

“Welcome home,” he replies as he gives my shoulder a light squeeze before leaning his head back, curls flopping over his tired eyes.

“Late night?” Alex asks. Jonathan’s always been known for his ability to sleep in, but I don’t remember the last time he slept this late. It’s almost two p.m., and even now, he’s clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Mm-hmm,” he confirms, while—in classic Jonathan fashion—offering no additional details. I was too distracted by the chaos of this past weekend to keep up with his whereabouts, but I do know that Nora had a shift last night and Alex and Meg went to the movies. He must have been with Sydney.

And by the looks of it, they were up all night.

“So…do you want to fill me in on the details of the wedding?” he asks, a slight edge to his voice. “I barely heard from you.”

“I will, I promise. But right now, all I want to do is watch some shitty TV and order food. We can order from that Indian place we’ve been wanting to try! Alex, will you stay? I think a new season of Love Is Blind is out.”

“I’m in.” Alex claps his hands enthusiastically.

“Shoot,” Jonathan sighs, running his hand down the length of his jaw. “That sounds great, but I made plans.” Plans? It’s an unspoken agreement between us that Sunday afternoons and evenings are reserved for couch rotting.

Alex and I exchange a look.

I can’t understand why Jonathan won’t come out and say that he’s seeing someone. Our friends’ faces are the first ones I want to see when I have a piece of gossip to share. They’re the only people I want to be around after a long day at work. Their phones are in danger of overheating from a mass influx of texts when I have a new crush.

So why doesn’t Jonathan feel the same way?

My face starts to heat, thinking about the possibility that Jonathan doesn’t value our friendship in the same way that I do. After eleven years of walking across the street arm in arm, how did we get here? How could it be that he’s sitting right next to me and, at the same time, feels so far away? Between his “plans” and his weird behavior at Jeffery’s the other night, it’s starting to feel like he’s distancing himself, and I know it has something to do with Sydney. My stomach knots into a ball of anger, and before I can stop it I’m bubbling over like a pot that’s been forgotten on a burner.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” I blurt. Jonathan’s eyes shoot open. He raises his brows, an unspoken challenge that dares me to keep going. Alex is suddenly enraptured by something on his phone. A game that involves slicing fruit. “You’ve been acting so weird.”

It comes out more aggressive, more accusatory, than I would have liked. But I can’t help it.

“How have I been weird?” He crosses his arms defensively. There’s an edge of confrontation in his voice that I’ve only ever heard him use on the phone with our landlord after we’ve been overcharged for our electric bill. It’s more than unsettling to be on the other side of it.

“You’re seeing someone. It’s obvious. You’re spending nights out. Making vague plans. Changing the subject when I ask what you’ve been up to. Why won’t you admit you’re dating Sydney so we can be done with all the weirdness?”

“My god, Phoebe.” He lowers his head into his hands, running his fingers through his tangled hair. “Are you capable of talking about anything besides dating? I’ve barely spoken to you this past week and when I have, it’s only been about boys, your list, and this thing you have with Sydney. You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’m driving you crazy?”

My organs have rearranged themselves. I can feel my stomach in my throat. My heart beats frantically in my lower abdomen. I open my mouth to protest but close it immediately when I take stock of his heated expression. We’ve gotten into small fights here and there over the years, but he’s never looked at me like this, with his nostrils flared and jaw clenched.

Alex stands abruptly. “I think I left something in my car.” He shuffles over to the dining room table to gather his things, making a scene as he accidentally drops his keys on the floor, trips over his untied shoelaces, and races out the door. It slams as it closes behind him. The whole display is so absurd that I’d laugh if I wasn’t stunned into silence.

Jonathan continues. “It’s always Finn and Matthew this. Sydney that. It’s like you don’t care about anything else. You didn’t even text me back this weekend. You haven’t come up for air in weeks. I just want a break from it all. Maybe that’s why I have other plans. I just…I have more important things to do than gossip about crushes.”

Crushes.

Is that what he thinks is going on? A schoolgirl fixation I can’t help but gossip about? I was under the impression that he knew me better than this, but maybe we don’t know each other as well as we once thought. Plus, he has no right to be mad at me for not texting him back when he’s being just as cagey about his random nights out.

A wave of sadness overwhelms me, but I channel it into anger. For the first time in our friendship, I raise my voice at him.

“Then tell me what those important things are, Jonathan! If there’s a reason that I’ve been talking too much about what’s going on in my life, it’s because you won’t tell me anything about what’s going on in yours. Friends are supposed to share these things with each other. You should want to hear about my crushes,” I spit out the word. “I’m dying to hear about yours because that’s the type of thing friends talk about. It’s standard practice in friendships!” I take a breath. “I don’t get it. Why you feel like you can’t share things with us. With me. Unless you don’t value our relationship the same way that I do?”