Chapter 13 AM. My phone's buzzing like crazy with Brooklyn's name lighting up the screen.
"Girl, my boyfriend only hearted five of my Insta posts last night. Does that mean he's over me?"
I'm barely awake, squinting in the dark. "Babe, you're spiraling. He probably just crashed."
Half an hour later? She's calling AGAIN.
"He's got that work trip tomorrow. You gotta tell him—NO talking to female coworkers. Like, AT ALL."
My eyelids feel like concrete as I mumble whatever she wants to hear.
Then my phone rings AGAIN.
What now?
"Oh! And make sure he texts 'I love you' ten times a day. But like, switch it up each time, you know?"
I'm trying so hard not to lose it. "Brook, honey... you're twenty-six. Maybe handle this yourself?"
Thought that was it.
NOPE.
I wake up to 102 missed calls and a phone full of texts accusing me of wanting to steal her man.
Are you KIDDING me?
---
The buzzing drags me out of some decent sleep for once.
I pick up my phone and holy crap—102 missed calls.
ALL Brooklyn.
Plus about fifty texts saying the same crazy stuff:
[why r u ignoring me???]
[ur guilty aren't u]
[I KNEW u wanted Blake!!]
My head's pounding as I call her back.
She picks up before it even rings once.
"FINALLY you picked up! What the FUCK were you doing! You're guilty as hell, aren't you!"
I rub my temples, my voice all scratchy from sleep: "Brooklyn, it's four in the fucking morning. I was SLEEPING."
"Sleeping my ASS! You were having phone sex with Blake!"
My head's pounding and I can't get through to this psycho.
"You told me to handle Blake myself so you could cut me out and swoop in! Mira, you're such a backstabbing BITCH!"
Now I'm pissed.
"Brooklyn, chill the hell out! When did I EVER go after Blake?"
"I SAW the way you eye-fuck Blake every time he's around!"
I feel like I can't breathe, like someone's sitting on my chest.
"I don't want your boyfriend."
"PROVE IT! Swear on your life you'll never hook up with Blake—like, if you're lying, I hope you get hit by a bus!"
Just to shut her up, just to get some damn sleep, I give in.
I raise my hand like I'm in court or something. "Fine. I swear, if I ever get with Blake, may I get hit by a bus. Happy?"
She goes quiet for like two seconds. "Okay, that's better. Tomorrow you're gonna watch him for me. I'm sending you his hotel info."
I grunt something and hang up.
Then my phone rings AGAIN.
Ugh, what now?
I don't even check the caller ID. "Are you SERIOUS right now?"
But it's Blake's voice. "Mira? Hey, it's me. What's up with Brooklyn?"
Oh shit. I actually look at my phone this time.
"She called you?"
"Yeah, she was freaking out, but when I asked what's up, she just hung up. Figured you'd know since you guys are close."
I'm trying to figure out how to explain that his girlfriend's having a mental breakdown when the call cuts out and Brooklyn's number takes over.
My stomach drops.
I hit accept and Brooklyn's voice comes screeching through the phone.
"I FUCKING KNEW IT! Talking behind my back at four AM! Mira, you sneaky bitch!"
She was listening the whole time.
Everything's spinning. I'm not tired anymore—just panicked and furious.
"You were SPYING on my calls?"
"How else would I catch my backstabbing bestie trying to steal my man! What do you have to say NOW, bitch!"
She's literally screaming.
"Get your ass over here in thirty minutes! We're settling this RIGHT NOW! Don't show up and I'm posting screenshots on Instagram for everyone to see what a homewrecker you are!"
Click.
Did she just—? Yeah. She hung up on me.
Chapter 2
So here I am at 4:30 AM, standing outside Brooklyn's apartment like I'm about to get arrested or something.
She yanks the door open and drags me inside.
SLAM.
Every light's blazing. My eyes are burning.
Brooklyn looks insane—red eyes, crazy hair—and she shoves me onto her couch.
"TALK! What were you two chatting about? Why won't he answer MY calls but he'll call YOU?"
I'm so done with this. "He wanted to know why you were upset."
"Asked YOU? I'm his GIRLFRIEND!"
She's not even listening. Just grabs my phone.
"Unlock it. NOW."
Looking at her twisted face makes me feel sick.
I give her my passcode and watch her go through my phone right in front of me.
She's scrolling through every text between me and Blake, playing voice messages on speaker.
"Hey."
"Can you ask Brooklyn if she wants Thai food tonight?"
"Thanks."
It's all boring, normal stuff.
Brooklyn's face keeps getting darker because she's finding NOTHING.
But she won't quit. Now she's going through my Amazon orders and DoorDash history.
This is so messed up. Like, completely insane.
"Brooklyn, STOP."
She acts like I didn't say anything.
Then she freezes, staring at my phone.
"What's THIS?"
She shoves the screen in my face. It's this men's watch I ordered a few days ago—pretty pricey.
Her eyes go wide like she just found a murder weapon.
"GOT YOU! If this isn't for Blake, then WHO? You still gonna lie to my face?"
I actually laugh because this is so ridiculous.
"It's for my dad's birthday."
"Your DAD?" Brooklyn lets out this nasty laugh, her voice dripping with contempt. "Your dad's some retired blue-collar guy. You think he deserves a watch that expensive? Mira, if you're gonna lie, at least make it believable!"
Those words hit like a knife straight to the gut—this is the first time I've felt truly hurt by her.
My dad means everything to me, and she's talking about him like he's trash.
"What my dad 'deserves' is none of your damn business." My voice goes ice cold.
"Getting nervous? Cat got your tongue?" She's not letting up, getting right in my face. "Call your dad RIGHT NOW! Ask him if he knows about this watch! I DARE you!"
I look at her wall clock. Five AM.
"It's five in the morning. He's sleeping."
"You're just chicken!" She's convinced I'm guilty, completely losing her shit. "You won't call? FINE! I'm keeping this as evidence!"
With that, she starts taking pictures of my order with her phone.
Then she digs through my purse and grabs my keys.
"I'm keeping these until you come clean."
"What gives you the RIGHT?" I'm yelling now.
"I'm moving in with you to babysit your scheming ass! Let's see how you and Blake sneak around when I'm watching your every move!"
Wait, WHAT?
Chapter 3
Brooklyn actually moved into my place.
She's like a prison guard and I'm the inmate.
Bathroom? She's outside the door. Kitchen? She's right behind me. I can't even breathe without her watching.
I'm losing my mind.
Two days later, she posts this cryptic Instagram story:
[Some people are born thieves. Always wanting what's not theirs. Like dogs who can't stop eating garbage. Keep your enemies close, but your backstabbing friends closer ?]
She includes this selfie where she's fake-crying.
Reading that passive-aggressive bullshit makes me want to puke.
Soon my DMs are blowing up:
[Girl what happened between u and Brooklyn??]
[Is she talking about YOU in that post?]
I keep typing the same lame response: [Just a misunderstanding.]
I feel so helpless.
That afternoon, Brooklyn posts in our group chat. It's a pic of her new nails, but you can totally see my phone case in the background.
Then she's like: [Oops wrong pic lol]
But here's the thing—Blake has the exact same phone case.
The group chat EXPLODES.
[Mira you're such a pick-me girl... matching phone cases with someone's boyfriend and still claiming nothing's going on?]
[Right?? I knew something was off when Brooklyn posted that story. Turns out you've been homewrecking this whole time!]
[Can't believe we thought you were cool.]
Everyone's attacking me and I'm drowning.
I try explaining: [I got this case free at some event. Tons of people have them.]
[This is the lamest excuse ever. Do you think we're fucking stupid?]
[Yeah right. What 'event'? Your secret dates with Blake?]
[Stop lying. We're not stupid]
Nobody believes me.
Then Blake jumps in: [The phone case was from that tech conference downtown. I told Mira about it because she needed a new case.]
The chat goes quiet.
I'm just starting to feel relieved when my phone rings. Blake's calling.
But before I can even answer, Brooklyn snatches my phone and starts screaming into it.
"Blake what the HELL! You're taking HER side? Did she seduce you too! I'm telling you right now—STAY OUT OF THIS!"
She's screaming at him on speaker while I'm sitting right there.
The pressure finally breaks me.
I grab my phone back and point at the door. "GET OUT!"
I've never yelled at her like this before.
Brooklyn freezes, then her eyes fill with crocodile tears.
"You're kicking me out? See! You ARE guilty! Hit a nerve, didn't I!"
She grabs her stuff, still crying and yelling.
I throw her suitcase into the hallway and slam the door.
But she doesn't leave. She sits outside WAILING, screaming my name and telling everyone how "mean" I'm being.
The walls are thin. Soon the neighbors are knocking.
I open up to find them all staring at me with disgust.
[That poor girl... how could you be so heartless?]
[Look how you made her cry]
I feel naked, like everyone can see right through me.
