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Emma smirked. To her great surprise, she felt genuinely lighter after that conversation. Tilting her head slightly, a sincere smile touched her lips.
— But you know, Jess, being a bitch isn’t all that bad, — she said, laughing lightly and taking a step forward to continue their walk. Still, there was something in her tone that sounded almost like an admission. — It’s... how do I put it? Cool. Interesting. Convenient, maybe? Now I get why it works that way. — She glanced at her friend, narrowing her eyes playfully, but with clear warmth in her gaze. — It’s like a mask you wear so no one can get to the real you. Though… before, I… I mean Mark…
Jessica burst into laughter as Emma faltered, but her laugh carried a mix of relief and unease.
— Oh, come on, okay, it does sound weird, — Jessica said, shaking her head with an amused grin. — Don’t get me wrong, I believe you now, even if it all sounds like total nonsense, but... I’m listening to you, and it’s like you’re still Emma as I’ve always known you, and... not Emma. I can’t even explain it. Honestly, you’re somehow both and neither, but real.
— Yeah, — Emma nodded, her eyes fixed on the asphalt. — Not the real Emma, not the real Mark. Just... some mix. You know what’s the most ironic thing? — She raised her gaze to Jessica, and a strange softness appeared in her eyes. — When I was Mark, I always thought being bitchy was shallow. Like, just a way to show off or grab attention. — Emma smirked, but there was bitterness in her tone. — I’d tell myself, “These women have nothing to offer the world except their looks and snarky comments.” I hated them. It made my teeth grind. And now…
She fell silent, as if searching for the right words, then took a deep breath.
— And now I realize that’s… not it. Yeah, bitchiness is a mask. But you don’t wear it because you want to be above others. You wear it to survive. To keep people from getting too close. To show guys like Dan that you’re stronger than they are, that they can’t hurt you. And there’s… something sad about it. Because in the end, you’re not a bitch for yourself. You’re doing it for them. So they can’t hurt you.
Jessica listened intently, her eyes soft but cautious.
— Still, — Jessica squinted slightly, glancing sideways at Emma — you’re saying all this like... well, no guy would ever say anything like that, so...
Emma smirked and shook her head.
— Oh, come on, Jess. I know how it sounds — her voice carried a faint hint of mockery, either at herself or something else entirely. — But honestly, men can be bitches too, you know. We just call it “being confident.” Or, if we’re being brutally honest, “being a cocky asshole.”
Jessica laughed, her laughter genuine and almost warm.
— You know, that makes sense. Especially if you think about Mr. “I’m-in-charge-here” — our dear Dan.
Emma raised an eyebrow and smirked.
— Oh, Dan... — her voice dripped with sarcasm, and Jessica nearly dropped her coffee cup from laughing. — Yeah, you’re right. If anyone here is the real bitch, it’s him. With all his fake confidence and that way he looks at you like he’s doing you a favor just by existing nearby.
— But you still flirt with him, — Jessica teased, narrowing her eyes mischievously.
— Of course I do, — Emma shrugged, smirking. — Just to show him what it feels like when you’re not playing by his rules. He’s earned it after all that. So let him sit on the bench for a while, thinking he’s about to get on the field.
— You’re awful, — Jessica said, shaking her head, though her eyes gleamed with admiration.
— Me? — Emma placed a hand on her chest, feigning offense. — Jess, you’re the one who just called me real. So now you’re stuck with this “awful” real me, at least until the end of the school year.
— That’s exactly what best friends are for, — Jessica said with a wide smile, rolling her eyes. — To put up with your “real” self and everything that comes with it. Even if it’s awful.
— Oh, then you’re in good hands, — Emma chuckled, already feeling lighter. She nodded toward the coffee shop. — Let’s go, my treat. You’ve earned it for putting up with all this.
— Finally, — Jessica sighed in relief, playfully nudging her in the side. — Just don’t complain later when I order something with double syrup.
— Complain? — Emma shot her an expressive look, raising an eyebrow. — Jess, if it weren’t for you, I would’ve given up ages ago. So go ahead, make it triple.
They laughed together as they headed into the coffee shop. And for a moment, amidst the noise of cars and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, everything felt right again — a reminder that, despite everything, they were still friends who could truly see each other for who they were.