Best of Friends 34 - Figuring It Out

"This is Daniel speaking."

Rachel's father spoke in his usual rigid tone. It was Dad. He had spoken the same way at dinner, at her birthday, and at her graduation. Sharp, cold, and to the point. Even after his service, the military never really left him.

"Hey dad," Rachel said. She tried to sound friendly, but it was hard, knowing what was coming.

"Oh, Rachel. Glad you finally found the time to get back to me." The comment was blatantly passive-aggressive, but this was nothing new. It was his way of taking control, of reminding her who she was in his world. But Rachel wasn’t the same girl who had left for Godfrey. She wasn't going to let him bully her into being nice when he didn't deserve it.

"Things have been busy," she said flatly. Not apologizing felt like pouring boiling oil on her skin. She braced for an explosive response. But, instead, her father sighed and replied sternly.

"You keeping up with classes?" He asked.

"Yes dad."

"And the grades are good? I went to gather your report card, but they wouldn't let me see it."

"Dad…” Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose. “They don't give out report cards."

"Well, they should. I'm paying for you to be there. I expect you to keep yourself focused. Is your GPA above 3.8?"

Rachel shook her head. "Yes."

"Are you lying?"

Rachel felt herself bristle. He still talked as if she weren’t capable of navigating through her own life.

“No." She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him to back off and relax. To let her decide how important a high GPA was. To give her breathing room to grow up and be her own woman. But no was all she could manage.

"Don't give me attitude, alright? We've been over this. You keep your grades up, or you're coming straight home."

"Ok, Daniel," Rachel slumped in her chair, relishing in the silence that followed. He absolutely hated it when she called him by his first name.

"Watch the lip,” He said coldly. There it was. The kindling of her father’s rage. She didn’t know how much more rope she had before he would finally lose it. It was always a bit of a guessing game with him. But Rachel had learned to listen to her nerves. As soon as they began to tighten like wire, she would back off. So far, they were still slack.

“Yes, Dad,” She said.

“We need to have dinner soon,” her father continued, “I want to meet this young man you're dating."

"You've already met him Dad," Rachel said.

"I know that, and Jack is a very nice young man. I simply want to meet him formally now that you two are officially dating."

Rachel shook her head and sat up. "Dad, I'm not dating Jack, I'm dating Noah."

"That is not what your mother said," her father said sternly. Rachel's head felt like it was going to split. She should have known her mother was still trying to get Jack and her together, but she hadn’t expected her to twist Rachel’s arm through Dad.

"Well, Mom is wrong. I'm dating Noah." Rachel sounded about as firm as playdough.

“And who is Noah?"

"You met him! He went to school with me? He came over for dinner once."

"I don't remember," Her father said flatly.

"Right, of course," Rachel said just as flatly.

"Watch. The. Tone," her father’s voice got lower. And there it was. That was Rachel's cue to lighten up. Even though she didn’t want to, Rachel’s body moved on its own. Her tone lightened, her anger burrowed, and she put on the mask her father demanded she wear.

Soft, gentle, stupid, and demure.

"Sorry dad," She said sweetly. He sighed over the line.

"You know I love you, right?"

Rachel paused longer than she wanted to.

"Yes."

"Good. Because I do.” He said it so coldly. When Rachel was a child, that was enough. He never even said it directly. It was always framed in a question.

You know I love you, right?

Why couldn’t he say it to her? And why was it always after violence? After screaming, yelling, intimidation, and slamming? He was getting better now. Jackeline had done a good job of wearing him down. She had taken the brunt of it. But Rachel wasn’t as strong as her sister. She couldn’t stand up to him like her, and he used that to his advantage.

Controlling.

Prodding.

Manipulating.

And the worst part was that, even to this day, those slivers of affection still melted her heart.

You know I love you. He would say. And Rachel would falter. Even now, knowing it wasn’t enough. Even now, knowing what love really could look like, she still melted in his words.

“I need to meet this young man. When are you free for dinner?" He said.

"I'll have to talk to him," Rachel said.

"Rachel…" His words were tempered, but Rachel’s nerves weren’t tightened anymore. She had some slack, so she used it.

"Dad, I have to talk to him, I don't know his schedule!" She sounded like she was back in high school, and she knew that was exactly what he wanted. For her to stay the same, for her not to grow up. To remain as she was so that he didn’t have to change and accept the truth.

That she was an adult woman, and not his to command.

But he wouldn’t, it seemed. She hated him for that.

"You are both going to meet me next Wednesday at the Meadow Villa. There is a ball event happening. You will be there at six thirty with him, and both of you will be wearing formal attire. Is that clear?"

"I have to check with him…" Rachel said weakly.

"I'm not asking.” Her father didn't yell, but he didn’t have to. It was the same energy. The sparring was over. Now, her father was beating Rachel down, and he wouldn't stop until she submitted.

"Fine," Rachel said coldly.

"Fine?" Another tempered bid for control.

"We will be there!" Rachel said, raising her voice only to the level she knew was safe.

"Good. See you then," He hung up the phone. That was his way of punishing her. Rachel slumped in her chair and did her best to fight back the tears. The last thing she wanted was to bring Noah to her father at a time like this. It felt like too much, all of it. It felt like she couldn't breathe. She daydreamed about calling her father back and telling him they would not have dinner until he learned to show her respect. That’s what Jackeline would have done. Then, he would scream and threaten to cut her off. She pictured herself doing what she couldn’t.

Rachel would call his bluff. She would tell him to do it, and if he did, she'd get a loan like everyone else. She'd move to the public dorms like everyone else.

And she would be free.

Her hands trembled at the idea. Because with her father, it would never be that easy. He would find a way to terrorize her. He’d find a way to make her life miserable before ever admitting defeat. Because they both knew she wasn’t her sister. He would push as far as he could and make sure she paid the price for her independence.

Rachel felt her phone vibrate. She checked it. Mel’s text could not have come at a worse time.

Mel: Heyy! Thought you might want to see your boyfriend all done up. I thought he was very cute ;)

She had sent a video. The thumbnail showed her and Noah slow-dancing.

Rachel didn't play it. She couldn't. It made her so furious that she thought she might vomit. Here it was, another person pushing her around. Prodding her, taking advantage of her passivity, forcing her to be ok with someone she clearly wasn’t.

Everything boiled over at once. Rachel stood up from her chair and stormed out of her apartment, straight to Mel's door. She banged on it hard enough to hurt her fist.

Mel opened it with a casual smile.

"Hey! Did you get my text?" She said wickedly.

"What is wrong with you?!" Rachel tried to sound angry, but instead, the words came out shaky. She was terrified, absolutely terrified. And Mel, in turn, smiled triumphantly.

"What do you mean? I was just sharing something I thought you'd like!"

"You... you kissed him!" Rachel wanted to shout, but couldn’t. No matter how angry she got, her voice only ever rose to a moderate octave and shook wildly. It made her feel pathetic.

Everyone walked all over her.

Mel threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh my god, really?! Are you going to get upset over that? It was a stupid fucking game. It wasn't fucking serious."

Rachel sank into herself. She was helpless. Friendless. Hopeless.

"Y-you are a s-such… such a..." Rachel tried to get the words out. But with every syllable, her voice strained and weakened.

"What Rachel? What am I?" Mel stepped into the hallway. Her temper was rising, and it doused whatever courage Rachel had.

Rachel just stood there with tears welling in her eyes.

"Why did you do that?" She sounded so pathetic. It was like she was volunteering for a lashing. She already knew exactly what Mel was going to say before she said it. And perhaps, she wanted her to. Because she certainly wasn’t fighting back.

"Why did I do it?! Oh, I don't know, maybe because we were having a good fucking time at a great wedding together. And maybe I fucking did it because I KNOW you would have done more if the roles were reversed. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mel stepped forward. Rachel recoiled.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” Mel shouted.

Rachel did everything in her power not break down in tears.

“That’s what I fucking thought. You know damn well Noah would have sat at home, cheering you on while you cheated on him. Then, you would have come home and pouted just like you are right now. Brainwashing him into thinking it was his fault!” Mel was screaming. Rachel was shriveling. She didn't even feel like she was there.

When she looked to the floor in shame, Mel scoffed.

"You are such a two-faced bitch, you know that, right? You're going to get upset with me over something so fucking innocent and stupid while you’re literally fucking your way through half the men on campus.”

Rachel couldn’t look up. Tears dropped onto the hallway carpet. She waited for her lashing to continue.

“Here's the truth, Rachel," Mel said coldly. "You don't deserve him. You don't deserve sympathy. Because you are a lying, cheating, manipulative piece of shit. And you know I’m right. That is why you can't even look at me right now."

Rachel shook her head and closed her eyes tightly. It didn't stop the tears from coming out.

"T-that's not true,” She said so softly it was barely audible.

"Except it fucking is Rachel. It is. And if you don't want your boyfriend exploring shit with other women, maybe you shouldn't be fucking other dudes."

Rachel could feel Mel’s judgmental gaze, but she didn't dare look up. There was no fight left in her. She had been torn open and was simply waiting for Mel to finish with her.

"I’m so done with this. Go fuck your boyfriends and cry about it. And don't ever slam on my door like that again, or I'll fucking call the cops." Mel turned and slammed the door in Rachel's face.

She flinched. Trembling. Frozen in place.

Then, slowly, she turned and sulked back to her apartment.

- - -

Noah carefully looked over the flower arrangement before straightening his outfit. He wasn't sure if this was the smartest idea, but he couldn't bear the thought of sitting at home after what he did. Rachel hadn't been answering his texts or calls, and that was ok. It was also ok if she didn't answer her door, or if she told him to leave. He was fine with all of it.

But he needed her to know just how sorry he really was, and he was willing to talk if she wanted to. She deserved that much.

He knocked softly. There was no answer, but he could hear her music bleeding through the door, so he knocked again a little louder.

The patter of feet followed. Rachel cracked the door and peered through.

Her eyes were red and wet. He didn't bother saying anything. He knew it wasn't the time. He simply raised the flowers with an apologetic smile. Rachel stared at him a moment. Then opened the door slowly.

"H-hey," She said.

"Hey," Noah said gently, offering her the flowers. "I uh... got this for you."

She stared at them. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Noah said. She wiped her tears and took them.

"Thank you." Rachel went in for a hug, and Noah wrapped his arms around her. They held onto eachother as tightly as they could.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly.

Rachel responded by crying in his arms. She dropped her weight onto him, and he held her up.

They stayed that way for a long while.

Noah gently rubbed her back.

Rachel buried her face into his chest.

Then, slowly, Rachel began to calm down. With a final slow breath, she pulled away from him.

"Can I come in?" He asked. Rachel nodded, taking his hand and guiding him inside. They made their way to the couch, and Rachel fell into Noah's arms as he sat. He played with her hair as time rolled past them.

Sometimes, nothing needs to be said. Because no words can fully express the sincere affection of a soft touch and safe presence.

"My dad wants to have dinner with us," Rachel finally said.

"Oh boy," Noah said. He felt Rachel bounce on his chest as she laughed.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"What did you say?"

"I had to say yes, there was no choice."

"I'm sorry," Noah said. Rachel shook her head.

"Are you free Wednesday evening?"

"Of course."

"We have to dress up."

"I'll get something together." Noah felt Rachel trace her finger along his ribs.

"I'm not mad, you know," she said.

"It’s ok if you are,” Noah said. He felt Rachel shake her head.

"I know. But I’m not, honest. I'm just hurt."

Noah squeezed her tightly.

"I know, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head. "What can I do to make it right?"

She glanced up at him. Her eyes were still bloodshot. She must have been crying for a while.

"Tell me you love me,” She pleaded.

Noah stared deep into her eyes.

“I love you with all my heart.”

Rachel’s lips trembled.

“I love you too...” She whispered. Noah gave her a playful squeeze. Her laugh filled his soul.

“With that said,” she continued, “I think we need to talk about boundaries.”

"I absolutely agree," Noah said.

Rachel sat up, grabbed a tissue from the coffee table, and took a deep breath.

"Ok... so I’ve been thinking and... I think… You should be allowed to…” Rachel began gesturing with her hands. “You know… with other people."

Noah could hear the struggle in her words. It seemed like it pained her to utter each syllable.

"We don't have to do that," he said gently. Rachel shook her head.

"No, we do. It's only fair." She looked at him. Defeated. "It's only fair."

Noah grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"I feel like we keep circling this, and I keep telling you the truth. It doesn't have to be like that. What we have, it works. What we have right now is fair.”

Rachel nodded, pursed her lips into a smile, and looked Noah in the eye.

"If you can tell me, right here and now, that no part of you is at least curious to explore things with someone else. Then that is what we'll do."

The question felt unfair. Noah couldn't put his finger on why. Of course a part of him was curious. But that was human. Who hasn’t had thoughts about others once in a while? But, for him, they were just thoughts.

"You're making me feel like I have to act on it," Noah said. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then don't, but the door should be open. Just... tell me first, ok? Before you do anything, just let me know."

Noah wanted to protest, but Rachel continued before he could.

"Please, Noah, this is what I need," she said. He let out a long sigh, then nodded.

"Alright, deal. But I don't want to feel forced to do something if I don't want to. That feels, I don't know, fucked up."

Rachel nodded. "That's fair."

"Ok, then we agree. Should we talk, I don't know… specifics?" Noah asked. Rachel shook her head.

"I think it's best we don't, at least not right now. Just tell me if you want to explore something. And we'll go from there."

Noah cleared his throat. "Should I tell you if someone is texting or talking to me?" He asked.

Rachel's eyes narrowed.

"Is someone doing that?"

Noah nodded.

"Mel?"

Noah cleared his throat.

"Yeah, she's been texting me since the wedding. But I haven't responded," Noah could feel the chill coming off of Rachel. He knew it would hurt her to hear it, but he didn't want to keep anything secret after what had happened. "You can read the texts if you want.”

Rachel shook her head. "No, that's fucking weird. I'm not… I'm not that person. I'm not going to put you under my thumb." Rachel let out an agitated sigh. She stood from the couch, walked over to the kitchen, and began unloading the dishwasher. Noah watched her in silence as she scrambled with the dishes.

"Should I tell her to leave me alone?" Noah asked.

"Do you want her to leave you alone?"

"If it bothers you, absolutely," Noah said honestly. He always did see Mel as a friend, but he certainly wasn't going to let that get in the way of his relationship. Not in a million years. Rachel's face was unreadable. She threw the silverware into a drawer, then slammed it shut.

"I'm not going to tear something up because I'm jealous," She finally said. Noah didn't know what to make of that statement. But what he did know was that Rachel was more important to him than Mel.

"Well, I want to stop talking to her, at least for now," Noah said. Rachel shrugged.

"If that's what you want to do," she looked up and forced a smile. "Whatever you want to do, ok? I'm sorry I'm getting emotional…"

"You're totally fine," Noah said softly. He stood and walked to the kitchen. He wanted to hold her. He wanted everything to be alright between them. He opened his arms, but Rachel recoiled. Noah stepped back and did his best to hide his pain.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," Rachel said. Stepping forward to hug him. Noah stepped back.

"It's fine, I… maybe we need to cool off? Maybe I should go?"

Rachel's lip trembled, and she nodded. "Yeah, no… maybe you should... I'll text you later?"

Noah nodded. "Absolutely.”

He went for a hug again. This time, Rachel promptly jumped into his arms.

"I love you, Noah," she said with a quivering voice.

"I love you too."

"Are we going to figure this out?"

"Of course we are," Noah said gently. He pulled her close and kissed her. Rachel kissed him back. "I'll talk to you later, alright?"

Rachel nodded.

Noah had never left Rachel's apartment feeling that uncertain.

--

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