Boys Like Him

Bad for you

Mariah was sitting on my couch.

Arms crossed. Foot tapping. Eyes locked on me like she'd been waiting.

And she was pissed.

Shit.

"Wow," she drawled. "So you're alive."

"Mariah, I-"

"Huh. Huh." She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "At this point, if it weren't for the occasional 'I'm alive' text and seeing you sprinting across campus, I would've assumed you died."

I winced.

Yeah. That one landed.

"I know," I mumbled. "I've been... s**t. A really shitty friend."

Her expression didn't soften.

"No excuses," I added quickly. "I'm not even going to try. I just- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just... drop off like that."

Mariah leaned back slightly, studying me now.

"That's the thing, Nyelle," she retorted. "You didn't just 'drop off.' You vanished. Your grades are slipping, you're missing classes, you're always 'busy', and when I ask what's going on?" She tilted her head. "It's suddenly 'personal.'"

I swallowed.

She let out a slow breath, then leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes sharp.

"I know you," she said simply. "This isn't you spiraling for no reason. This is you choosing something over everything else."

My chest tightened.

She didn't look away.

"It's him, isn't it?"

I let out a long breath and dropped into the chair, my body suddenly too heavy.

"So," she pressed. "Are you two a thing now?"

I dragged a hand down my face. "Mariah... can we not do this right now?"

Her expression hardened instantly.

"Oh, we're doing this," she shot back. "You asked me for that salon job, remember? I pulled strings for you, and you haven't shown up. Not once."

That stung.

"The Nyelle I know doesn't do that," she went on, shaking her head. "She's... steady. Focused. Not..." she gestured at me, frustrated, "whatever this is."

I looked away.

Because I didn't have a defense.

"I'm not here to judge you, Ny," she said quietly. "I'm just... worried. You've never been like this. And now you're just... gone."

My throat tightened.

"I know," I whispered.

A beat.

"Then talk to me," she pressed. "What's going on with you?"

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

How was I supposed to explain this?

That I wasn't even sure what we were.

That I'd agreed to something I couldn't name, couldn't claim.

That he didn't belong to me, but somehow I still felt like I belonged to him.

That being away from him felt wrong.

That he took up space in my head, I couldn't clear even if I tried.

I swallowed hard.

"I just..." I started, then stopped.

My voice dropped. "It's not simple."

Mariah didn't move.

"That's exactly why you need to explain it."

I let out a shaky breath, fingers gripping the edge of the chair.

"It's him," I admitted finally. "Okay? It's... him."

Her eyes didn't leave mine.

I forced a small smile, folding my arms like that could somehow hold me together.

"It's nothing that serious," I added lightly, brushing it off. "How have you been?"

Mariah didn't even blink.

"You two are hooking up, aren't you?"

The words hit so fast I didn't have time to think.

"What?" I blurted. "No.. I mean..."

"Oh, you definitely are."

I pressed my lips together.

Damn it.

"Nyelle," she went on, her voice sharpening, "I warned you about him. And this..." she gestured between us, frustrated, "this is exactly what I meant."

Something in me snapped.

"He's bad for you."

That did it.

I straightened in my seat, irritation flaring hot in my chest. "You know, for someone who said she wasn't here to judge, you're doing a lot of judging."

Her expression faltered slightly, but I didn't stop.

"So what if we are hooking up?" I shot back. "We're both adults. I can make my own decisions."

Silence dropped between us.

Mariah exhaled slowly, like she was forcing herself not to react the way she wanted to.

"I'm not saying you can't," she responded. "Don't twist my words, Nyelle. I'm not judging you."

I looked away.

"I just..." she hesitated, "I miss you."

That hit worse than anything else.

Her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, restless. "This is the first actual conversation I've had with you in weeks. Do you know how weird that is?"

The fight drained out of me just as fast as it came.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I just... I've been overwhelmed."

"With him?" she asked gently.

I didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

"Okay," she said after a moment, standing up and motioning toward the couch. "Come. Sit properly."

I followed without arguing this time.

She sat beside me, turning slightly so she could face me fully.

"Now," she continued, voice calm but firm, "tell me everything. No filtering. No, it's nothing.' Everything."

I hesitated.

Then exhaled.

And I told her.

About the party.

About the woods.

About how things spiraled after that, how we couldn't seem to stay away from each other, how every time we were alone it turned into something heated, something consuming.

About the way he made me feel.

About the arrangement.

That part made her go very still.

I showed her the pictures.

My phone felt heavier than it should have as I handed it over.

Mariah took it slowly.

Her eyes scanned the screen.

Once.

Then again.

Her jaw tightened.

"Wow..."

She leaned back slightly, still holding my phone as it had burned her.

"That's... a lot," she muttered.

We sat in silence for a second.

Then she shook her head, letting out a slow breath.

"Nyelle... wow."

I gave a weak shrug, staring at my hands. "Yeah."

She turned toward me fully now.

"Look, I get it," she said. "I really do. It's thrilling. It's... intense. Guys like that?" she gave a small, knowing huff. "They pull you in before you even realize you're in deep."

My chest tightened.

"But that's exactly the problem," she continued.

I could feel Mariah's eyes on me, sharp and piercing, the kind of stare that made it impossible to look away. She leaned closer.

"Ny... I've seen it too many times," she pressed, drumming her fingers lightly on the edge of the table. "Women get drawn in by men like him, charming, intoxicating... makes you feel like the world revolves around you. At first, it's thrilling, exhilarating even. But then..." She shook her head slowly, eyes darkening. "Then you start to notice the cracks, control, lies, half-truths, and the way he keeps pieces of himself locked away, just enough to keep you chasing. Most of the women I know never come out unscathed. Some get lucky... some stay caught, scared, burned, repeating the same patterns over and over until it's all they know."

Her gaze softened, but the warning remained. "Nyelle... this isn't just exciting. This? This is toxic. Way too toxic. And I'm scared for you."

I swallowed hard, the words sinking in deeper than I expected. My throat felt tight, my chest heavy. It wasn't that I didn't see her point... but she didn't understand him, not like I did.

"He's... he's not that bad," I whispered, my voice trembling despite myself. "He's caring, kind... funny. He makes me feel alive."

Mariah cut me off sharply, eyes flashing. "Alive? Nyelle, being alive doesn't mean you're not being eaten from the inside. He's slept with other girls, probably more than you know. And you? You're already hooked. That's the danger."

The words cut straight through me.

I went still.