CHAPTER NINE
At Kitty’s gentle urging, I attend several group therapy sessions with her over the next few weeks. She goes to traditional one-on-one sessions with a therapist, but the group is run for free by the college for students—and occasionally their friends, apparently—who need someone to talk to without necessarily wanting formal therapy.
I’ve spent the sessions sipping tea—milkless now—and listening to others talk. I see a lot of myself in many of the people who are struggling with depression, but I’m still not completely convinced I’m dealing with anything more serious than situational depression. Not that my situation is going to change any time soon.
Despite that and despite the constant ache in my heart, I’m attempting to adjust to what I call my ‘new normal’. Being friends with Kitty has been exactly the distraction I needed, and it’s also given me an unexpected sense of purpose. Our relationship is similar to what it was when I was simply her companion, but now it goes both ways. I confided in her about my mom, which is part of the reason she suggested the group therapy sessions. When we’re on our own, I’m adept at keeping the focus mostly on her and getting her to talk about herself.
It helps that she’s young and fun and essentially just starting out in life. She sees things differently than I do, and she’s given me a fresh perspective in a lot of ways. She hasn’t let life knock her down, despite the hardships she’s experienced in her twenty years, and I admire her for that. She embodies a lot of the traits I did at that age…hell, traits I had up until recently: idealistic and hopeful.
With our jam-packed schedules, we often have to get creative about spending time together. We meet up at the college library for Kitty to study and for me to work on travel articles, and we always get to group therapy early so we can talk alone for a few minutes. Tonight we’re trying something different: meeting at the school cafeteria for dinner. I almost bailed because I’m starting work an hour early this week, but Kitty reasoned I had to eat regardless, so it might as well be with her.
“The food here is surprisingly good,” she says to me, not for the first time, as we pick up trays and get in line. I think she’s trying to convince me driving halfway across town and eating while surrounded by hundreds of other people will be worth it.
If I’m being perfectly honest with myself—because I can’t tell Kitty this—my early schedule tomorrow isn’t the only reason for not wanting to come tonight. I’ve slowly become more comfortable opening up to Kitty when we’re alone, but I haven’t told her about Kieran. I’ve convinced myself it’s because of confidentiality reasons and not because talking about him reminds me I’m an idiot who missed out on something that could have been great.
Since I started making regular visits to campus, I’m always on high alert, watching for Kieran. I’ve had a few instances similar to the one at Bellevue Records, where I thought I spotted him, but it wasn’t actually him. The Loyola campus is huge and he lives off site, which reduces my chances of running into him. However, the cafeteria is a different story; it’s massive and there are tons of people in here, but if Kieran actually did get a dining card like he said he was going to, he could be here.
Anxiety mixes with anticipation in my gut, churning until I’ve lost my appetite. I mindlessly get the same thing as Kitty, not even noticing what’s being put on my plate. My attention snaps into focus when she tells the woman working the cash register to put both our meals on her card.
“I’ll pay for mine,” I protest.
Ignoring me, she shakes her head at the woman, who’s now hesitating, and tells her to go ahead. As we pick our trays back up and head toward the tables, Kitty says, “My dining card is covered by one of my scholarships, so I basically eat for free.”
“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll come eat at the cafeteria more often then.” I say it lightly and we both laugh, but I’m semi-serious. One of the ways I’ve been saving money lately is by scrimping on groceries. I’m still eating as healthy as I can, but I’m always hunting for the cheapest alternatives, and often buy discounted produce in the ‘almost expired’ section. I’ve also cut out luxuries like my favorite weekly brie and fancy crackers, the brand of almond milk I like, and a few other things. Compared to a lot of people, I’m still blessed financially, so whenever I pass those things in the supermarket or go for a much cheaper generic brand of something, I remind myself it’s notactuallya hardship and at least I can still afford to eat.
My eyes sweep the cafeteria as I follow Kitty. She’s talking about a new group of friends she met through Petra, and how they should be at a table near the back windows. “Oh good, they’re here. Do you mind sitting with them?”
“No, of course not.”
She stops at the end of a long rectangular table, and I force my eyes to finally quit their search for a head of dark curls. My gaze settles on Petra, who I’ve met a couple times now. I smile to myself when Kitty bends to place a quick kiss on the other girl’s cheek.
“Hey, Meredith, good to see you,” Petra says when Kitty straightens. “Do you know everyone else?”
I cast a glance at the other four people at the table, nearly doing a double take when my gaze meets a familiar set of light blue eyes. Eyes that are as wide and surprised as mine probably are. Kitty is introducing everyone, but I don’t hear a word she’s saying over the sudden thundering in my ears.
“Meredith? Meredith.” Kitty touches my arm, and I pry my gaze away from Kieran’s. “Do you two already know each other?”
My eyes dart back to Kieran. He’s schooled his face in the last few seconds, the shock replaced by nonchalance. Now he’s looking at me like I’m a stranger. I guess I deserve that. “N-no,” I say, turning back to Kitty. “No, this is our first time meeting.”
Kitty gives me a strange look, probably because of my odd choice of words. They were more for Kieran than for her, though. He had talked about the ‘what ifs’ the last time we were together—what if things were different, what if we’d met another way—and I had shut it down because there was no use wondering.
The old me, who was full of hope and positivity and a belief the universe was always looking out for her wants to think we were meant to meet like this. Right here, right now, separate from my job at HTC. Just two regular people. Maybe we could wipe the slate clean and start fresh. Go forward from here and now.
But when I look at Kieran again, his attention has shifted to the guy beside him. And that’s when I know I blew it for real. There’ll be no clean slate or fresh start for us.
Kitty nudges me, making me realize I’m just standing here staring at Kieran. She sits across from Petra and indicates the seat next to her, which puts me across from the guy beside Kieran. The other two girls at the table have gone back to their conversation and are basically ignoring the rest of us. I finally look down at my meal: chicken fingers, fries, and salad.
I start eating, barely tasting the food. Conversation buzzes around me. I catch snippets of what Kieran and his friend are saying; they’re mostly talking about school, and the other guy mentions something about seeing a band next weekend. My eyes have a mind of their own, and despite telling them to concentrate on my food or literally anything else in this whole huge cafeteria, they continually gravitate to Kieran. Our gazes lock a few times, but only ever for a brief moment before his shifts away.
This is torture. Even worse is knowing it’s my own fault. I could be herewithKieran, sitting beside him, holding his hand, talking and laughing with the group like a normal person. Instead, the others are probably thinking Kitty brought a weirdo to dinner.
Kitty, bless her, asks me to tell Petra about Bellevue Village because she’d like to check it out and see what kinds of jobs are available. Talking about work is comfortable territory for me, so I tell Petra about the general running of the place and what businesses are within the Village.
“I’ll give you my card before I leave,” I tell her. “You can call me and we’ll arrange a time for me to give you a personal tour of the place if you’d like.”
“That would be awesome, thank you.” She gives me a bright smile, inclining her head toward Kitty. “Maybe the three of us could hang out sometime. Kitty talks about you constantly.”
Kitty’s cheeks have been flushed with pleasure since we sat down, and they darken now at Petra’s words. “Notconstantly.”
