My Butterfly

until she was standing in front of Jessica and me.
    “Hey,” Jules said, softly. “How have you been?”
    I looked up at her, into her eyes. I felt as if I were dreaming. I wished I were dreaming. I expected her to be here. I wanted her to be here, but now, everything just felt wrong. It was all wrong.
    “I’ve been good,” I said, slowly nodding my head.
    They were the only words I had, but it wasn’t completely a lie. I felt good, compared to how I was going to feel after she slapped me across my face and told me that she never wanted to see me again. And how could I blame her? Yeah, we weren’t together. But what did that really mean for two people who weren’t meant to be apart?
    “That’s great,” she said.
    There was a smile on her face, but it wasn’t a good one. I had seen that smile before. It wasn’t one of my favorites.
    “So, did you go to Will’s high school?” Jessica suddenly interjected.
    Then, it all hit me like a massive wave to the chest. Sometime in the last few minutes, Jessica had stopped telling me about her uncle, the firefighter; Julia had found me in the living room, sitting too close to Jessica; and my hand had become even more intertwined with the brunette’s.
    My eyes fell onto Jessica’s face for the first time since Julia had entered the room. Her focus was on Julia, and I followed her eyes back to the blonde.
    Please, Julia, keep it short. Make this end. Please make this end quickly.
    “Yes,” Julia finally said. “I did. I went to New Milford.”
    I let out a deep sigh. Thank you, Jules.
    “Julia,” a voice suddenly called out from behind her.
    It was Rachel. She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, out from the swaying heads and idle bodies in the other room.
    “Chris wants to ask you something about track and find out how outstandingly well you’re doing,” Rachel said in a loud, commanding voice.
    She pulled on Julia’s arm and gave me an if-we-weren’t-in-public, I’d-kill-you look. Rachel was known for those, but I wasn’t really known to get them. My heart sank further.
    Julia willingly complied and allowed Rachel to guide her away from me.
    “It was nice to meet you,” Julia said, turning back in Jessica’s direction.
    Her words came out soft and gentle, and they weren’t the words I was expecting.
    At the same time, Jeff returned from wherever he had been and proceeded to distract Jessica again. My eyes followed Julia until she reached the doorway and shot a quick glance back at me.
    “Thank you,” I mimed with my lips because somehow I knew this could have gone even worse than it had.
    She gave me a half-smile, and I felt the corner of my mouth edge up my face just a little, in a purely instinctive reaction to her smile because, in reality, I knew that I was as good as dead. There was no way that Jeff’s plan ever had a snowball’s chance in hell of working. Desperation will drive you to do things you know will never make you whole again and even to lose the very thing you’re desperate for. And as if I had to live it first, I knew that now—a little too late.
    I watched Julia’s face turn until I couldn’t see her pretty eyes anymore, and then her black silhouette faded away into the crowd. My heart shattered right then and there. I tried to stand, but I still couldn’t feel my limbs.
    “Will!”
    My face instinctively turned toward Jeff.
    “Dude, you all right?” he asked.
    I blankly stared at him.
    “I just said your name three times,” he said.
    “What?” I asked.
    I looked at him and then glanced at Jessica. Both of their expressions made me feel uncomfortable. They looked worried.
    “I just, um,” I stuttered. “I’m going to get some more to drink.”
    I looked into the glass in my hand. I saw that it was full, and I remembered then that it was Jessica’s. But I didn’t bother changing my excuse for leaving. I simply took a quick glance at each of them, forced a smile and then pushed myself up from the couch and made a beeline for the room that Julia had just disappeared into.
    But no sooner had I made it through the doorway, I ran straight into a brick wall. It was Rachel, and her pointy, narrow finger was digging into the muscles in my chest.
    “Will, I don’t know what messed-up act you’re trying to play tonight, but you need to stay away from her,” she said, in her very serious tone. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
    She dropped her finger from my chest, sighed and then placed a hand on each