He stands between my knees and presses his palms against my thighs. “Waylon?”
“Lucas?”
“I think I’m ready to... tell people.”
I hook my arms around the back of his neck. “Are you sure?” I try to keep my voice perfectly even and measured. This is all his decision, and I don’t want to sway him one way or the other.
He pulls my arms down and takes a step back, his whole face lighting up. “I never thought I’d feel like this.”
“Yeah?” Hope bubbles in my chest and I feel like I mightburst. I’d told myself over and over for the last few months that this was only physical. Nothing more, but somewhere along the way, it became more, and now—
“I met someone.” He sighs, like a hulking weight has been lifted. “His name is Rashid. He works in the library at school and he makes me so happy. Just talking to him about stupid stuff like our allergies flaring up and our favorite TV shows and weird things our moms say...” The words roll right out of him and he claps his broad hand over his smiling lips as he takes a step back. “I haven’t even asked him out yet. Isn’t that shit wild?”
“But you...” I force myself to recalibrate, blinking over and over again, because I will not cry. I refuse to cry. Definitely not for this piece of shit. “Good for you, Lucas.”
Realization settles on his face. “You’re not upset, are you?”
I stand and wave a hand in his general direction. Breathe in. Breathe out. “Um, no. I’m fine. Completely fine. So fine.”
“So fine?” He dodges my path to the door. “We said this was just physical, Waylon. From the very beginning. And you just told me to my face we weren’t exclusive. Just now.”
“I. Am. Fine,” I say through gritted teeth as I shove him out of my way.
He loses his footing and stumbles backward into a pile of empty boxes. “We can talk about this,” he tells me.
I stomp out of the stockroom and pray to God he’s watching me on the security monitor, because if the bestthing he’s ever had in his life is about to walk right out the door, I hope he’s there to see me go.
Anger rolls through me in fresh waves until I slam my car door shut behind me. Then, and only then, is it safe. The tears come in a quick surge, and once they start, they don’t stop. Sobs rack my whole body as I pull out of the parking lot and leave Lucas right where I found him, in a grimy gas station on the outskirts of town.
Four
At home, I don’t even knock on Clem’s door. “Clem?” I ask, fully prepared to free-fall onto her bed, so she can tell me all the ways Lucas is an asshole and how I deserve better and blah-blah-blah feel-good bullshit.
But her room is empty. The clock on her nightstand reads 12:48 a.m. She should’ve been home by now. Ugh. I don’t have enough emotional energy to process this breakup—is this even a breakup?—and worry about Clementine’s well-being.
I plop down on her bed and fidget with her laptop, looking for the perfect song to properly wallow in this very particular sorrow. I settle on Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts,” and I swear to God I’m about to push her laptop to the side when an email alert from the University of Georgia pops up in the corner of her screen.
Subject Line: Re: First Year Bulldog Camp Dorm Request
I click. It’s a reflex. I can’t control it.
Dear Clementine,
Yes, if you decide to attend First Year Bulldog Camp, we would likely be able to fulfill your dorm request. Though the final say would be up to your camp adviser. I believe you would be with Julia. This is her second year doing Bulldog Camp and I think you two will really hit it off. Testing out your dorm is a great idea. I actually stayed in Hawthorne for my first two years of undergrad and loved it. My roommate was even in my wedding!
I know you have yet to commit to UG, but as a reminder, our extended deadline is right around the corner in a few weeks. Please don’t hesitate if you have any more questions.
-Paulina
Paulina Fernandez
Admissions Adviser
University of Georgia
Athens, Georgia
I snap the laptop shut like it’s a can of worms.
