For someone who bragged about their off-campus apartment, hers sure had a lot more roaches than mine. A small red one skittered near my feet, and I jumped back.

Lainey opened the door. “Hey girl,” she said. The phrase lacked its usual cheeriness.

“Hey,” I said, walking in.

“I’m glad you came,” she said. “We needed to talk.”

She was being all quiet and squirmy, like the tension in the air caused her physical discomfort. She didn’t just express her emotions, she wore them, like a flashy accessory that everybody had to see.

Because we were fighting, I didn’t know if I should assume my typical spot in her green armchair, so I stood awkwardly beside it. I watched her shuffle into her kitchen.

“Well, do you want anything? Like a glass of water?” Lainey asked, cracking open her fridge. Before I could answer, she said, “Actually, the water kinda has some unsafe chemicals in it right now. I only have a Red Bull.”

“That’d be great,” I said. Maybe caffeine would power me through the upcoming conversation, because I was drained from nervousness and dread.

She passed me the can without looking me in the eye, and it was a shock of cold in my palms. When she sat, I did too.

I waited for her to speak first, because I couldn’t find any words, and she had been the one to invite me. But instead she picked a toothpick and an airpod off her coffee table, and to my shock, began scraping chunks of earwax out.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s disgusting, what are you doing?”

“I guess I’m just waiting for you to speak,” she said, in that same stiff tone.

The smile fell from my face. “For me to speak? Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Lainey dropped the toothpick dramatically. “I thought you came to apologize!”

“I did! I did apologize to you already–days ago!”

She scowled. “Daniela, you messaged me on Snapchat! That doesn’t count! You have to do it in person.”

This was just like Lainey, to find ways to hold onto grudges forever. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I took a moment to compose myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have been there for you, but I didn’t have the time.”

“You stopped answering my texts, or meeting me for lunch,” Lainey said. Her eyes watered into a brown puddle.

“I told you,” I said. “I had to go to chemistry tutoring, or I’d be put on probation! Honestly, Lainey, I thought you called me here to say sorry yourself.”

“What would I apologize for?”

I nearly choked on the energy drink. I had expected this to be a difficult, strained attempt at patching together a tattered friendship, but I didn’t think either of us would be jabbing our fingers at each other with anger.

“The looks you gave me!” I said. “I passed you in the English building and you glared at me. You–”

“After I had the worst breakup of my life, you’re angry about me supposedly giving you a look?”

Lainey went on, crackling all over with fury, but I stopped hearing her. My eyes dropped to the glittery red bracelet that slid back and forth on her wrist. I had given her that bracelet. It was made of real rubies–supposedly. My aunt had given it to me, and that was the only thing on me when I remembered too late that it was Lainey’s birthday. I had yanked it off my wrist and handed it to her, and she loved it. For her to wear it now enraged me to an unreasonable extent. It was too big on her, anyway, hanging like a limp fish on her arm.

“You’re not even listening,” Lainey said. A few tears slid down her cheeks. The hand that wore the bracelet went up to wipe them away.

“We both did rude things,” I said half-heartedly.

 She had moved onto sadness, melting her head down into her palms. But I was still stuck on anger.

“I don’t know if we can go back to being best friends,” Lainey said. She sniffled and lifted her head. “I don’t really like you anymore, or this. Maybe we just outgrew each other.”

The bracelet slid beneath her long sleeve.

“Maybe,” I said.

She hugged her knees. “You’re just giving up?”

“We gave up a long time ago.”

“You can leave, then. I don’t know what else there is to say.”

The bracelet peaked out of her sleeve, now, reflecting the sun. Light bounced all over the walls. How could our friendship be over, but she still flaunted that expensive bracelet? She didn’t deserve it. It didn’t even match that green shirt she wore.

“Actually,” I said. “I don’t want to leave like this. I miss you.”

Lainey perked up a bit, although she frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah. I realize that this is all my fault, and I feel terrible.” I shook my head.

“Wow,” Lainey said, laughing. “Well, that’s all you had to say. Jesus Christ.”

I got to my feet and grabbed my purse. “We’re best friends,” I said. “Let’s hang out every weekend. You can vent about your ex-boyfriend the whole time, so I can get caught up on what he did.”

Lainey smiled and jolted up. “Oh, I’ve got so much to fill you in on! I love you, Daniela!” In the process of standing, the bracelet had dropped with a thud onto the table. She was too excited to notice.

“I love you too,” I said. “Let’s watch a movie or something! We should pop some popcorn like old times!”

“Great idea!” Lainey said.

While she headed into the kitchen, I palmed the bracelet. She knelt out of sight to stick her head in the cabinet and rifle around, so I slipped out the door. I would be in my car driving away by the time she realized I was gone.

She just didn’t deserve that bracelet.

– Stellana Erickson