"Fuck," I whispered.
Phillip actually chuckled. "You know, Amy, you seem to have a real knack for getting people wrapped around your little finger."
That pissed me off. It wasn't like I'd done anything to Violet on purpose. Was it my fault she was such an amazing young woman? Was it my fault she was such an incredible friend? And to top it all off, was it my fucking fault that she was such a fantastic lay?
"It's not like that, Phillip," I growled in warning. "She's my friend. I care about her. I fucking love her, okay? I wouldn't hurt her, not for anything." By the time I finished, I was yelling.
"Okay, okay," Phillip said gently. "I get it, and I know you. You wouldn't hurt someone you cared about, not intentionally. It's just..." he trailed off.
"Just what?" I asked, still seething.
"Hold on," he told me, then to Tabby, I think, "I'll be right back."
I heard him walking through Tabitha's house, then step outside.
"Amy, I'll spell it out for you. There's something about you, something very...I don't know, special."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I yelled. I didn't whine. I swear, I didn't.
Okay. Maybe I did, a little.
"Would you let me finish?" he barked at me.
"Sorry," I said meekly.
Phillip sighed and continued. "When I first met you, I was happy as a clam with Mona. But I saw you. I
noticed
you, in a way I hadn't noticed anyone before. I wanted Mona, and right now, I want Tabby, but fucking hell Amy..." He sighed again, and I could almost picture him running his fingers back through his hair. "When I'm around you, you do something to me."
When he paused long enough that I didn't think he'd bite my head off again, I asked. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he snorted. "It's hard to explain. You're an awesome friend. But before I met you, aside from Mona, I didn't have any friends that were girls. Every time I saw you, I wanted you, but not you specifically."
I shook my head. "Phillip, you're not making any sense."
"I know, right?" he laughed, and I laughed a little too. "Did you know that you're not even my type? That I like my women taller?"
I really wasn't sure what to say to that, nor what point he was trying to get to.
"Don't get me wrong, Amy, you're fucking beautiful, but it doesn't make sense, how much I want you. I prefer blue eyes, and yours are brown. I like really long hair, and you keep yours pretty short. I like tan skin, and you're kinda fair. I actually prefer small breasts, and you're kind of stacked, compared to what I usually go for."
"Phillip, I don't understand."
"My point is that when I see you, I see sex. I think sex. I smell sex. And the weird part is that it has nothing to do with
having
sex. I start seeing every girl around me like I see you. I notice things I never have before, like the way Sarah prefers two bags instead of one when she makes herself tea, and it's like I'm filing it away, just in case I ever make her tea, because I want to please her. I notice how you always take off a shoe and a sock, then the other shoe and sock - which is fucking strange, by the way."
He still wasn't making any sense, but I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud.
"I file that away too, because who knows, one day, I might be at your apartment, and you might come home exhausted from a long day, and you might plop onto the couch and forget to take your shoes and socks off. But I'll be there, to do it for you, just the way you like, and I'll do it because I want you to be happy, just like I'd want Sarah to be happy with her tea, or Tabitha to be happy when I pin up her hair the way she always does. Amy, you're such a sweet person, so damn kind. You're funny, beautiful, sharp as a tack, and I adore you. You're one of the best girlfriends I've ever had." He stopped, took a deep breath, then let it out and said quietly, "I think you make me want to be a better man."
Maybe it was because I'd never received so many compliments in less than sixty seconds before, or maybe it was because so much was going wrong just then, or maybe both, but I almost cried. The truth was, I wasn't the great person he thought I was. I had hurt Violet, so much so that she bailed on her girlfriend, and I had hurt Trevor, enough that he had bailed on his family.
"Phillip..." I choked out.
"Amy, despite your need to keep those you love a little too close, you are an amazing girl, a wonderful friend, and I love you for it."
And that did it. I started bawling. But at least I did it silently.
Phillip continued. "Look, there really is something special about you. When I realized what being around you does to me, I started noticing what it does to everyone else. I realized that Violet and Sarah stand half an inch across a line from me, a line that separates loving a friend and being in love with a friend. God, Amy, it could have been so easy for me to fall for you. When you came to see me, all I had to do was let you kiss me. If I hadn't pushed you away, you would have owned me. I'd have thrown myself at your feet."
My tears were slowing down by then. I wasn't sure if what he was saying should make me feel good or bad. On the one hand, he was telling me what a great person I was - something I didn't see in myself much lately - but on the other, it sounded like he was saying I manipulated people.
When I'd gone to see him at his apartment, I'd gone as his friend to comfort him. I hadn't gone over there to kiss him, nor anything else like that. I'd been hurting, because I'd faced the fact that I had to let Trevor go. I had to let go of someone I loved. Phillip had had to do the same thing. He'd had to let go of Mona. We'd felt the same pain, and I'd recognized that. I had always liked Phillip, but our pain had brought us closer. And I liked him closer. I liked knowing that we shared something on a deeper level, liked the thought that our relationship could be stronger. At least, that's what I'd told myself.
Maybe there was something special about me, at least in his eyes, but he was also right in that there was something wrong with me. Like my hesitance with embracing my feelings for Trevor, I'm sure it had to do with my father leaving Mom and me. When I was a little girl, my father had been my world. I'd felt so loved by him, but then he'd left. How could he have possibly loved me if he could leave? I didn't want that to happen again. I was determined to keep those I loved close to me, but if my track record proved anything, I was going too far.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Oh, Amy, no," Phillip said gently. "No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I was wrong. I was wrong about Trevor. It isn't your fault that he fell for you. It isn't your fault that I almost fell for you either. It's just who you are. You're just that incredible. All of us love you; me, Sarah, Violet, Trevor, Tabby, Paula. Each of us let it take us in different directions, but the direction we took was our choice, not yours. You didn't manipulate us into loving you. We love you because you're you, not because you made us."
He was silent for a minute, I guess letting everything he'd told me sink in, and it was. Maybe I wasn't such a horrible person. Sure, once someone got close to me, I made it harder for them to leave, simply because I held nothing back, but I didn't lay traps to snare them to begin with. I guess that was something.
"What Violet and Holly are going through isn't your fault, Amy. I thought I was perfectly content with Mona. She was my friend, after all, and she was my lover. But after seeing you with Sarah for so long, I realized that I wanted more. I wanted what you had. That's one of the gifts you gave me. Even before Mona fell for someone else, I'd already begun to prepare myself, to accept that she wouldn't be around forever."
I wasn't sure where he was going. "How does that apply to Violet?" I asked meekly.
"Well, I think Violet has been seeing what she could have, and I think she knows it isn't with Holly."
"Why would you say that? I've never seen Violet happier than she's been with Holly."
"No, Amy. You've seen Violet happy with Holly
and
you," he clarified, then said, "Look, no offense to Holly, but she isn't head over heels for Violet, not like you and Sarah are for each other. Holly is a really sweet girl, but personally, I think she wants to be taken care of."
"What's wrong with that?" I asked. After all, there were times when I wanted the same thing, for Sarah to take care of me.
"Oh, nothing. There's nothing wrong with that at all, except that I'm pretty sure Violet is the one that needs to be taken care of. There's something about her that...I don't know. Don't take this the wrong way, but she seems damaged. I still love the girl. I mean, she's fantastically fucking crazy."
I laughed at that. Violet was definitely crazy, but in a good, fun way. If you didn't know Violet well, she came across as not having a care in the world about what people thought of her. She was untouchable, lived and loved freely, and she didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt about how she lived her life. But there had been plenty of moments when I had seen Violet as her true self, moments where she had let down her guard, where she had let herself be vulnerable with me, tender and loving.
After I'd come home from the hospital, Violet had titty-fucked me, blown me, and fucked the hell out of me. She'd been wild, crazy, and absolutely salacious, but at the end, she'd cried. She'd told me never to get myself hurt again, made me promise. She'd laid herself bare, shown me how much she loved me. I'd held her in my arms and let her cry, and I'd cried with her too, but until now, I hadn't realized what had really been going on. I'd been hurt, badly, and I had needed a lot of help getting around. I'd needed to be cared for. But in that moment, I'd been the one taking care of Violet.
Holy shit.
Phillip was right.