Keyframe

bad guy

"I like it when you take control.

Even if you know that you don't

own me, I'll let you play the role.

I'll be your animal."

- "bad guy," Billie Eilish (2019)

Alejandro

"Jesus fucking—" Zach coughs into his elbow, using his other arm to prop himself against the outside of the cabin after our morning run. "Once I catch my breath, I'm kicking your ass for choosing that route."

"Stop being dramatic," I say through a heavy exhale, pushing my sweaty hair back with two hands. "You're going to the NFL—you run up and down football fields for a living."

"Oh, shut up, Molina. My football fields aren't six-thousand feet above sea level." He takes a deep breath, placing his back against the cabin and surveying the snow-dusted pine trees of Lake Tahoe. "Remind me to start running with Jordan when I visit—I'm done waking up at 5:00 AM to go kill myself with your ass."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He's gotten pretty good at taking my place recently." The unusually bitter words slip out of my mouth as I open the cabin door, and, realizing, I quickly jump back to rectify them. "Okay, that was childish—I didn't mean that."

Zach scoffs with a shake of his head as he follows, letting me know that the sentiment isn't lost on him.

"Trouble in paradise?"

I look around when we enter the den, and, once I don't see the topic of our conversation, I finally reply.

"There is no paradise."

Even though the words feel traitorous to say, it's the truth. Jordan and I have been civil since Christmas Eve, but, three months later, it feels like we're miles apart emotionally. And we rarely speak to each other outside of lines like "I'll pick her up," "I got it," or "yeah, she'd like that."

My friendship with Jordan isn't on the rocks just because he's Lily's ex. And it's not even because he's still a threat to my relationship with her, either. Envy is one thing: par for the course in the long-standing rivalry that's existed between us for years. But our bond shriveled up and died the moment I realized that we were never as close as I thought we were. That he had a secret life he treasured far more than the one we lived together. That he didn't trust me enough—care about me enough—to tell me about the girl he loved.

Loves.

I'm probably healthier as my own person rather than half of a matched set. But I still feel like a child who's lost his baby tooth, constantly running my tongue over the space it left. It hurts like hell, and yet I still can't bring myself to give in and take the first step to mend our relationship.

This is his fault, after all.

I can't fix a problem that he doesn't even care to acknowledge. And, if he can't wrap his head around why I'm really upset, then I don't think I want our friendship back at all.

"Good morning," I chirp to Lily's parents when I enter the kitchen, reinvigorated now that I'm fresh out of the shower and no longer soaked in sweat. "Is Lily up? I still have to make her coffee."

"Morning—I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Mr. Bennett stops buttering the toast to pat me on the shoulder when I pass, and Mrs. Bennett bumps me with her head as a hello while she beats the eggs.

"Was she sleeping when you got up?"

"Well I don't..."

My voice trails off the moment I make contact with her knowing eyes. I told them I'd sleep on the couch, but it's clear they know me too well to believe that for a second.