Confessions of an Estranged College Freshman

by Kitty Parker

  Sighing, he set the bottle on top of the table. "You know I'd do annnnything for you, Eeeevie," he slurred.

  "Will you tell me what's wrong?" I asked.

  Slowly, he lifted his head to meet my gaze with his bloodshot eyes. "I missyou… Why did you leeeeave me, Eeeevie?"

  Oh, shit.

  He'd been drinking because of me. This was not going to end well.

  "Amory, please…" I murmured.

  "Whyyyy?" he moaned.

  I settled for the simple explanation. "It just wasn't working, Amory. You know that."

  "But I loooooove you, Eeeevie! I loooooove you! Why can't you love me baaaaack?" He was becoming visibly frustrated. "I can chaaaaaange!"

  "I don't want you to change, Amory," I assured him. "You're wonderful the way you are."

  He shook his head vehemently. "No I'm not 'cause you dun wanna beeee with me."

  "I'm not the one, Amory. Someday, you'll find the girl who's right for you, I promise. It's just not me."

  "But I dun wanna be with anyone else!" he bellowed. "I neeeeeed you! Pleeeeease! Be miiiiiine again!"

  I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying. It just about broke my heart to see him hurting so much because of me. There wasn't a thing I could do about it, though, other than living a lie. That wouldn't be fair to him or me.

  "I loooooove you, Eeeevie…" he murmured.

  I tenderly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just be patient, Amory. You'll move on, I promise."

  Suddenly, he reached out and drunkenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him and crashing his lips against mine. Their familiar feel brought back some pangs of nostalgia, but the taste of the vodka kept me rooted in reality. I gently pushed him away.

  "Amory, please don't do this to me…" I whispered.

  He merely hung his head.

  I looked over to Elizabeth, who had been watching the scene unfold. A bizarre mixture of horror and pity danced across her features.

  "Go find Tully," I mouthed to her.

  Nodding, she darted off.

  "Eeeevie…" Amory moaned.

  "Amory, no…"

  He sighed and closed his eyes.

  A few tense moments followed before the reinforcements arrived.

  "Evie, what happened?" Tully inquired as he hurried over.

  "Vodka," I explained, gesturing to the bottle that was still sitting on top of the folding table.

  "Shit."

  "Pretty much."

  Amory scowled at his roommate. "Why're you trying to taaaaaake her, Tuuuuully? She's miiiiine. It's not faaaaaair!"

  I could practically see the wheels turning in Tully's brain before realization clicked. He gave me a questioning look.

  I nodded, confirming his suspicions.

  His gaze softened, his green eyes full of understanding and compassion as he turned to his intoxicated roommate. "Hey, buddy. Nobody's taking Evie anywhere, okay? Come on, let's get you back to the dorm." He took Amory's arm and slung it around his shoulders, helping him stand and walk back toward the Mews.

  "Thanks!" I called after him.

  "No problem!" he replied.

  Sighing, I trudged off to find my friends and take my leave. I'd definitely had enough partying for one night.

  Chapter 8: Save the Drama for Your Momma

  The last thing I wanted to do on Sunday morning was get out of bed. Getting up would mean facing reality. Facing reality would mean drowning in debilitating feelings of guilt. I'd have to deal with the fact that I'd broken the heart of someone I cared about… twice.

  I pondered my situation as I rolled onto the floor and began dragging myself down to one of the dorm kitchens to make chocolate chip pancakes for Elizabeth (it was her birthday, after all). I felt completely horrible about what had happened with Amory the night before. If the problem were only that my feelings for him had faded, I would've made an attempt to rekindle them and make the relationship work.

  I frowned to myself as I pulled the things I would need for cooking out of the various cabinets scatterefd around the room.

  It wasn't as simple as all that, though. While my feelings certainly were a factor, my family also played a pretty significant role. My parents had never outright disapproved of him (my dad actually thought him to be a wonderful golfing partner), but I could tell that they were less than thrilled at the prospect of their eldest child (and only daughter) getting into a serious relationship with a boy with Amory's views.

  I certainly respected the differences between myself and Amory, and they'd never had much of an impact on my friendship with him. We had similar economic viewpoints, so if politics ever came up in conversation, we focused on that rather than the touchy social issues.

  Those things weren't so easy to ignore in a romantic relationship, though. I didn't want to be afraid to introduce my boyfriend to my ex-hippie aunt. I didn't want to worry about a slip of his tongue that might offend my entire family. Most importantly, I didn't want to feel my heart breaking every time I saw the way he looked at my gay cousin. I could live with it as his friend, but not as his girlfriend.

  I sighed, stirring the pancake batter I'd made with a large spoon. I knew it was a hard thing to explain. It was something that only Amory (when he was sober) and I could understand.

  Turning on one of the stove's burners and greasing my frying pan with some canola oil, I decided to stop brooding about my failed romantic relationship with Amory. It was more important, I decided, to figure out how to handle the situation at hand, that being a simple question: what in the fucking hell was I supposed to say to him?

  The batter began to sizzle as I poured it into the pan, sprinkling in some chocolate chips as I did so. Going into my traditional over-thinking mode, I began mulling over the possibilities for the inevitable confrontation.

  Option one: Pretend it never happened.

  For a brief moment, I held onto the hope that Amory would wake up and not remember a thing. He had been drunk, after all. Then again, he hadn't been drunk to the point of puking or passing out, so it was likely that he'd remember at least the basics of what had happened. Besides, even if I did decide to act normal about the whole thing, he certainly wouldn't. While I tended to shy away from awkward confrontations, Amory took them head on. He never skirted around his problems, and this one would be no different. Option one was no good.

  Option two: Find him and talk to him about it.

  I immediately scrapped that idea. If I confronted him, I'd have no idea what to say, not to mention the fact that I'd probably chicken out before I even knocked on his door.

  Option three: Let him make the first move.

  This seemed like a good idea. While I was indecisive, Amory was anything but. I decided to wait and see what he did. That way I'd have something to go off of.

  My nostrils were suddenly filled with a rather unappetizing stench. I looked down at the stove to find that while I'd been lost in my thoughts, my pancakes had become black and charred.

  "Shit!" I cursed, quickly tossing them into the sink and dousing them with water. They gave off a sizzle, mocking me in my failure.

  "What happened?" Elena inquired as she came dashing into the kitchen.

  I blushed. "Um… I burned some pancakes. I kind of… zoned."

  She gave me an amused smile. "You want some help, then?"

  "Thanks," I replied gratefully, handing her the mixing bowl.

  "You feeling alright?" she asked as she poured more batter into the frying pan.

  I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

  "D'you not want to talk about it?"

  I hoisted myself up to sit on one of the counters. "No, that's alright. I don't mind."

  She took a moment to flip one of the pancakes over with the spatula. "What exactly happened? I have the gist of it, but I'm a bit foggy on the details."

  "Well…" I began, nibbling a bit on my bottom lip. "What d'you know?"

  "Just that Amory was sloshed and the reason he drank involved you somehow."
/>   Her words weren't at all accusatory, but I winced nonetheless. I still felt quite guilty about the whole thing.

  "So…" she continued. "What happened?"

  I sighed. "Alright. The reason he was drunk… was that he's… not exactly… over me, per se."

  "Mmm," she replied, her voice full of understanding. "That would do it. It's a shame, though. The pair of you get on so well even though you broke up. What're you going to do, then?"

  "I'm pretty much just going to wait and see what he does, then take it from there."

  She nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. He doesn't seem the type to ignore problems."

  "He isn't," I confirmed. "I'm pretty sure that he'll do something soon."

  We slipped into the sort of comfortable silence that exists between good friends as Elena continued to cook.

  "Pancakes are done!" she finally announced, flipping the last one onto a plate with the five she'd already made. "Six - two for each of us."

  "As long as Dorianne doesn't insist on having one," I pointed out.

  Elena shrugged. "She's probably still asleep."

  "True."

  After cleaning up the kitchen a bit, the two of us headed back upstairs and down the hall to Elizabeth's room, Elena carrying the pancakes. I gave a soft knock. There were some shuffling noises before the door opened to reveal the birthday girl, who was rubbing the last dregs of sleep from her eyes.

  "Happy birthday!" Elena and I cheerfully greeted her.

  Not fully awake, she blinked at us a couple of times before a smile crept over her face. "Hey, guys! What's up?"

  "We made you breakfast!" Elena cheerfully informed her, holding out the plate in her hands.

  Elizabeth's smile widened. "Aw, thanks, you guys!" She enveloped us both in a hug, nearly knocking the pancakes out of Elena's hands.

  There was a groan from within the room. "Could you please take zis elsewhere?" a very grumpy Dorianne snapped. "I am sleeping!"

  Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her. "C'mon, let's go to that lounge area down the hall."

  We ambled along in a comfortable silence until we reached a little common space with a few couches and chairs and a flat screen TV. Elena set the plate of pancakes down on the coffee table and made herself comfortable on a nearby armchair. Elizabeth and I followed suit, flumping down onto the neighboring couch.

  I had a sudden realization. "Silverware. We didn't bring any forks or anything."

  Elena smacked her forehead with her palm. "I knew we'd forgotten something!"

  "I'll go get some," I offered, standing up and heading back to the kitchen. It was a fairly quick trip - just a dash down the stairs and a search through the drawers - but by the time I returned, three sets of forks and knives in hand, Elena and Elizabeth were already deep in conversation about something that appeared important.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  Elizabeth squirmed uncomfortably and looked down at the floor, mumbling a thanks as I handed her the cutlery.

  I gazed at Elena expectantly.

  She sighed. "We were just talking about… last night and, you know… how crazy things were and all that."

  "Mmm," I murmured. "Pretty insane. I'm sorry you had to witness that, Elizabeth," I added, remembering that she'd been standing there as Amory made an ass of himself. The look that had been on her face came to mind. "You seemed pretty upset about everything. You alright?"

  She furrowed her brow, seeming almost confused by her own actions, and remained silent for some time. "I guess it was just… I dunno… weirdto see someone like… well, like him acting so…"

  "Emotional?" I suggested.

  "Irresponsible?" Elena supplied.

  "Upset?"

  "Human?"

  "… pathetic, I guess," Elizabeth finally finished.

  I was initially surprised, but soon nodded in understanding. After all, Elizabeth was only familiar with cocky, self-absorbed Amory. The previous night had been the first time she'd met vulnerable, sensitive Amory. It had probably come as quite a shock. She'd made it obvious that she despised him, but what was she going to do after seeing him have a complete meltdown like that? I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't even consider rubbing it in his face; she was a good person and would never sink to such a level. Still, I doubted that she would immediately warm up to him. I was sure she would eventually, but that sort of thing would take time.

  I looked over at her. She sat quietly, chewing her pancakes in a meditative manner. I supposed she'd probably just avoid Amory, thus ignoring the problem, sort of how I'd acted around Tully after my dream. The two of us were surprisingly similar in a lot of ways.

  "I'm still peeved at you for chucking me in the lake, you know." The smile on my friend's face contrasted with her words. The conversation had moved on to playful teasing.

  I nudged her. "You liked the attention. Admit it."

  "Nope." She mimed zipping her lips shut, then continued to munch on her breakfast.

  "How can you eat if your lips are zipped up?" Elena chuckled.

  "I'm special."

  "With quotation marks," I added, smirking.

  Elizabeth gave me a look. "You're lucky I love you so much, 'cause otherwise I might have to pound you."

  "You wouldn't pound me. I feed you." I gestured to the pancakes (or what was left of them, anyway).

  She thought about this. "Good point."

  I grinned. "Food never fails."

  "Unless it's Brussels sprouts," Elena amended.

  "Amen to that."

  * * *

  It was lucky for me that Elena had gone to the bathroom on our way back to our room. I was immensely grateful to her bladder for allowing me to be alone as I reached the door and saw what was taped to it. Glancing up and down the hall, I quickly pulled off the small, folded note with my name written neatly across the front and examined it without opening it. I would've recognized that handwriting anywhere.

  "You going in, or are you having fun staring at the door?"

  I jumped at Elena's sudden reappearance, swiftly stuffing the note into my pocket. "Oh! Yeah, zoned out again. You know me…"

  She gave me an amused smile. "I'm guessing you want to be alone to read that?" she asked, indicating my jeans with a nod of her head.

  I looked down and realized that half of the note was still hanging out of my pocket. I really was horrible at being discreet.

  "It's alright," she chuckled. "I'll go check my mailbox." Giving me a reassuring pat on the back, she took her leave.

  Feeling incredibly thankful for having such an understanding roommate, I opened the door to my room and slipped inside. I pulled the note out of my pocket and flopped down on my bed to read it, anticipation twisting my stomach into knots.

  Evie,

  I guess I should start off by apologizing for last night. I acted like a complete idiot and probably embarrassed the hell out of you. I also know you well enough to know that you're probably feeling guilty right now. Don't. I was the one pouring the vodka down my throat. It wasn't your fault; I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me.

  That being said, you should probably know that even though I was drunk, the things I said to you last night were true. I'm not over you - I never was. I still love you and I know that you know that, but I just want you to know that I respect you enough to let you go. You made your decision, and I'll honor that. I can't help the way I feel, but I can help the way I act. There'll be no repeats of last night, I promise.

  Knowing you, you're probably agonizing over what you're going to say to me the next time you see me. Don't over-think things - it makes them seem worse than they are. I don't want to lose you, so can we just go back to being friends? We can't really act like nothing happened, but I hope we can accept it for what it is and move on.

  Please, Evie, don't start avoiding me. I know you don't like to deal with things, but I need you in my life, even if it's only as a friend. After a
ll, if you weren't there, who would I rant with about excise taxes and monetary policy? Who would I complain to when the S&P 500 takes a dip? You're one of my best friends, and I'm not going to let you go that easily.

  Don't worry about me (I know that you are). I'll be alright. I'll move on. It just takes time, that's all.

  Anyway, I'm sorry again for what happened. I'm an ass, I know. Forgive me? Please?

  - Amory

  I had to smile at that last bit. It took a lot for the ever-proud Amory Atherton to admit that he was wrong, much less that he was an ass. Although the letter sent a pang of empathy for my hurting friend through my heart, it did put me considerably more at ease than I had been. It reassured me that things between Amory and I would soon be back to semi-normal… whatever that was. We weren't exactly normal people, after all. Not many eighteen year-olds went around bitching about inflation and inefficient resource allocation. That was our thing.

  * * *

  By the time October rolled around (which was actually only a few days later), the normal rhythm of my life had returned. The only glitch was that Elizabeth had taken to completely avoiding Amory, which made group activities rather difficult to handle. I, on the other hand, had fallen back into my usual routine with my friend - banter, economic jargon, and lots of laughs.

  Following my classes on Thursday afternoon, I ambled from Central Campus back to my dorm, my iPod earphones playing Anberlin's "Time and Confusion." I paused at Louie's Lunch, an ice cream truck-like vehicle that hadn't moved from its spot on Thurston Avenue since the sixties, to buy some fries and a banana milkshake. Elena was working hard on some kind of project in Rand Hall (apparently, most architecture students practically lived there, which would explain why I had yet to meet a single one of them aside from my roommate) and Elizabeth had marching band practice until six, then would probably go to the Ivy Room with her fellow bandies for dinner, so I was essentially on my own. I thought about calling up Tully, but then remembered that hockey practices had begun.

  I should do some work.

  As much as I wanted to listen to that little voice of reason inside my head, I simply couldn't bring myself to bust out the homework just yet. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time.