Freshman year ended and I still felt shitty about my friends. They wanted to drink or at least they wanted people to think that they drank. Fake drunk was Kate’s M.O.- “Oh my gaad Luke, ho-hoooww did yu dew that?” followed by lots of forced giggles. I hated it. Being around her, being around all of them. My other friends stopped hanging out with me and would lie to me about drinking and where they spent their weekend nights. I hated that they thought the only way to be with me was to lie, what did I do…what did I radiate that made people think the best option was to lie to me? What, so I wouldn’t get mad at them? So I wouldn’t lecture them about the dangers of drinking? Would that have even been that bad? So bad that they didn’t want to be around me?
Its weird when you love somebody how you are willing to feel like shit about yourself if it means you can still be around them. That’s what I spent my time doing with Kate. I constantly felt like shit about myself and she did that to me and I let her.
Halfway through summer my parents asked if I wanted to move across the country. I didn’t think twice before responding “yes.”
I told a few people, mainly just friends. I invited them to get food or see a movie then casually brought up the fact that I was moving. I also didn’t tell a lot of people who I would later receive texts or Facebook messages or instagram comments from asking me why I just left without telling them. I’m just not that kind of person.
Kate and Alex, along with a few others threw me a surprise going away party. For the first time in months, maybe even the whole year, I felt like my friends cared about me. Like they would genuinely miss me. It made me smile and for a moment I think I was even a little sad about leaving.
When the night died down and people left the party and it was just me and my friend group minus Alex I decided I needed to tell them about Ben. I sat in the basement surrounded by my friends and admitted to being a horrible person. And Kate, she stood there, looked me dead in the eyes and told me “no.” “No, it didn’t happen.” Not because I was too good of a person, not because she was protecting my integrity but because Ben “wouldn’t do that.” He would never get with me; less attractive, less skinny, me as in not Kate, me. That wouldn’t happen. Kate was too great, too pretty, Ben wouldn’t go from Kate to me. That was impossible.
So as Kate stood there and denied me of my moment. Whether it was a moment of forgiveness or a subtle brag, she took it away from me. As she stood there telling me what I did didn’t really happen, all of the sadness about leaving left me. I remembered why I wanted to go. Why I needed to go.