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The dialogue of the movie has faded to a hypnotic murmur under the sound of the argument.
Lily knows she’s made a mistake as soon as Amanda reaches for the drink. She knows she can be cold, cruel even, but telling the only person who can stand to be around you that their life isn’t worth living? Still, she knows Amanda will judge her just as much for being weak, emotional; for failing to follow through with her plan -- no matter how fucked up it was.
Her breath catches in her throat. In a rare show of decisiveness, she throws herself across the couch, knocking the glass out of Amanda’s hand.
She doesn’t know what she expected, but the sound of the shattering on the floor makes her flinch. The sickly sweet scent of orange juice seeps into the carpet from the mess of the ruined drink.
The hum of the movie in the background isn’t enough to diffuse the awkward silence that settles into the room. Amanda watches Lily. Lily blinks back tears and wonders if Amanda thinks she’s using the technique.
Once, years ago, Lily broke her arm falling off a horse. There’s still a scar on her arm if you know where to look. She remembers hitting the ground, the panic that comes from having the wind knocked out of you, and becoming aware of the sharp pain setting into her arm as soon as she could breathe again, but the clearest memory from that day was Amanda’s morbid curiosity, the instructor yelling that she didn’t need TWO girls off their horses in the middle of the lesson! as Amanda dismounted and ran to check if Lily was okay.
“The bone’s sticking out of your arm,” she’d said.
“I KNOW,” Lily had spit back between sobs.
But Amanda had stayed by Lily’s side until she had to get on the ambulance (listing off excuses, like how she’d wanted to ride in the back -- just to touch all the medical gadgets, of course).
Maybe Amanda didn’t feel -- but somehow, despite that, she still managed to be more caring than most of the people Lily knew.
Amanda breaks the silence.
“I wanted to drink it.”
“Amanda, I didn’t mean that. Your life isn’t meaningless… You mean something to me!”
Amanda’s face doesn’t shift. “No, You were right. Your plan makes so much sense, I don’t have a chance in court. You’ll be way happier than I could ever be -- that’s just the truth. You’re finally being objective. Besides, it’s not like you ever really wanted me around.”
Lily’s blood turns to ice in her veins, and it’s all she can do to hold back the sob rising from her throat.. It almost feels worse to have Amanda tell her she should have carried out her plan than to be told to her face that she’s just a selfish, vindictive, spoiled rich girl who gets mean once daddy’s money runs out. The worst bit is how Amanda’s face twitches as she doesn’t even look away.
“Amanda… of course I --” she trails off, “of course I want you.. you’re a good friend.”
“I’m a skilled imitator. That’s all I am. You know that. You don’t have to stay friends with me just because I know you almost roofied me and framed me for murder. It’s not like I’d get any joy from ruining your life.” Amanda smiles an obviously fake smile, more like a grimace, like she’s trying to look like she’s faking. “It’s not like I feel any joy at all.”
Lily lets out a broken laugh, and she hears it as if it’s coming from across the room, from another person.
“If I actually wanted you gone, I would have let you drink it! If you’re a bad friend, I don’t even want to know what I am…” she trails off again, praying Mark doesn’t choose this moment to come downstairs. “You’ve been there for me when I really didn’t deserve it -- when I lied to you, when I used you, when I tried to drug you. All I do is hurt the people who care about me. I can’t let anyone --”
Amanda’s eyes glisten in the fuzzy bluish glow from the television screen. Lily wonders if this is just the technique again, but her lips are slightly parted and she seems like she’s hanging on to Lily’s every word.
“The worst thing you can be is indecisive,” Lily remembers as she leans in.
Amanda sits as still as a statue, staring with wide eyes until Lily presses their lips fully together, but then she kisses back, placing one hand on the back of Lily’s neck and tracing the scar on her forearm with the other.
(Does she remember?)
Amanda’s lips are chapped (of course someone who doesn’t think showering is “strictly necessary” doesn’t own chapstick). Lily thinks that maybe she’ll buy some for her, or -- more in line with Amanda’s preferences -- shoplift some just to feel something.
When Amanda deepens the kiss, Lily’s thoughts are instantly drowned out by the realization that this is the best she’s felt in a long time.
They break apart, slightly breathless.
Once again, Amanda is the first to speak. “ “I wanted to drink it. For you, because I thought it was the thing that would make you happiest, the only way I could show you I loved you in a way you would accept,” Amanda says, “But this is so much better.”
“I hate romance movies -- all those happy, selfless people. After my dad died I didn’t know if I could be that happy, so I just wanted the people on screen to be just as miserable as I felt” Lily can’t stop herself from saying. “God, that’s a terrible thing to say.”
“We’ll come up with a new plan. Unless you got cold feet on killing him?”
Lily wraps her arms around Amanda, cuddling up closer to her. “I love you too.”