Just let me go. Her words repeated over and over in my head, like a skipping CD.
Before anyone could try to stop her, Audrey was gone, swept up in the hockey revelers.
“Let her go,” I said, wishing I could go somewhere and be alone. But that wasn’t possible.
“Is everything okay?” Tyler said. “I feel like there’s a little bit of tension going on here.” It was more than a little bit. “I think I should go, so I’m going to do that. Thank you for a lovely evening and I’ll see you on Monday. Go Moose!” Tyler raised his fist and walked away. Everyone waved and then every eye turned to stare at me.
“What the hell happened?” Lottie said, smacking me in the chest, as if I was the one who had driven Audrey away.
“Look, she told me to let her go, okay? She said it’s too hard to see me, even as friends, so now I don’t even have that. I just . . . please, I just need to be alone right now.” I put my hands up and walked away from my friends and my sister.
I just wanted to be alone.
7
Having your own room was a blessing when you were a crying mess and you didn’t want someone incessantly asking you what was wrong. On the other hand, when you cried, there was no one to offer you a shoulder, or a tissue, or to take you out for ice cream.
I let myself go and cry it out until I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up early the next morning. I felt disgusting and gross and sluggish and guilty.
My first trip was to the shower to try to scrub off the previous evening and my second was to my minifridge for some sustenance in the form of Greek yogurt.
I was a sad, sad sight, and I knew if Lottie or Katie or Trish or any of my friends saw me, they’d be shocked. I didn’t let myself get emotional in front of them, so when I needed to have my moments, I always made sure I was alone, or in the shower.
There were about five thousand texts from each one of my friends, and tons of missed calls. I’d asked them to leave me alone, but they couldn’t take the hint. I turned my phone off and decided to lose myself in homework, but there was a knock at my door. Shoving my books aside, I went to check the peephole.
Lottie was there, waiting with Katie and Trish and several bags from the grocery store. The Grief Committee had a new project: me.
“We can see your feet under the door,” Trish said. “And I’m holding melting ice cream so you’d better open up before we force the RA to come unlock it because we’re worried about you. Don’t think we won’t.” Oh, I had no delusions that they wouldn’t go that far.
I took one gigantic breath, pasted on a smile and opened the door.
“Aw, Aud. We’re here for you,” Katie said, sweeping me into her arms. “Breakups aren’t easy, but we’re here for you.” I didn’t know why they couldn’t be here for me . . . somewhere else.
“I thought I asked to be left alone,” I said, trying to keep the venom out of my voice.
“I don’t remember that,” Lottie said, barging her way in and throwing the bags on the extra bed I’d been using as a study space and couch. “Do you remember that?” She directed her question to Katie, who shook her head.
“Nope. No recollection,” Katie said, and elbowed Trish who agreed.
“Guys, honestly.” At least I was dressed and showered. If they’d come over earlier, I wouldn’t have been presentable.
Trish slammed the door with finality and the Cheer-Up Audrey party began.
The party was your standard post-breakup affair. Ice cream, candy, chips and the standard fare of movies, including John Tucker Must Die, Pretty in Pink and the first two seasons of Gossip Girl.
“Stryker offered to bring booze, in case you needed to drown your sorrows, but that didn’t seem like the best idea,” Katie said, handing me the bag of chips. I wasn’t hungry, but they kept putting food in front of me.
“Look, I appreciate this, but I really want to be alone,” I said several times, but no one listened. I was promptly shushed and told to pass the ice cream.
We’d all crammed ourselves onto my former roommate’s bed. I could admit (grudgingly) that being smooshed together with three people I knew had my back did do something for my terribly bruised and damaged heart.
The movies and the junk food, not so much, but they were trying. The distraction kept my mind off . . . what I didn’t want to think about. At least for a little while. They couldn’t distract me forever. Eventually I would be alone and I’d have to think about what I’d done.
Katie started playing with my hair, pulling it back and braiding it together. I remembered when Angel used to do the same thing and sing some of the lullabies in Spanish that our grandmother had taught her. She died when I was three, so my recollections of her are foggy and sparse, but at least there are photographs.
I didn’t want to think about my family. I didn’t want to think about Will. I just wanted to think about homework and term papers and keeping my GPA high.
When Katie was done with my hair, I leaned back on a pillow and closed my eyes, only intending to shut things out for a moment, but the next thing I knew, I was waking to the sound of voices.
“You’re not a kid going between divorced parents, Lot,” Katie said. I kept my eyes shut and my breathing even so they wouldn’t know I was awake.
“What am I supposed to do? She’s my friend, he’s my brother. They’re both important to me, and I’m not abandoning either one of them. I can’t. That’s non-negotiable. Trish was able to be friends with me and hang out with Stryker even though he was buddy-buddy with Zan.”
“Yeah, but the difference is that you actually like your brother,” Trish said.
“Whatever, we know you love Stryker.” There was a snort of derision that I assumed came from Trish.
“She seems numb. I thought she’d be more emotional, but maybe she’s blocking it out,” Lottie said, and it was an effort to keep still.
“As long as she doesn’t use sex as a coping mechanism like some of us,” Katie said with a sigh. “Although, that did actually work out in my favor.”
“I don’t know. I just wish there was a way for both of them to be happy. I thought if they got together then everything would fall into place, but I can’t force them to date each other, which is unfortunate,” Lottie said, and there was a crackling sound as she rolled up the empty chip bag and shoved it in the trash. “I tried telling Will to keep fighting for her, but I’d rather see him give up and move on than keep trying to force something that isn’t going to happen. We’ll just have to wait and see. Shit, I have to get to work.”