Secrets

34 | devon

I stare down aimlessly at the papers and books scattered over my desk, unable to pay any attention to the assignments I should be completing.

I can't stop thinking about the way I treated Hadley the last time we spoke, which leads to falling down a spiral of guilt. I know I had no right to speak to her the way I did, and hanging up on her without a word was definitely uncalled for. We've hardly spoken since our argument, just a few short texts here and there. I know I should apologize for the way I acted, yet something holds me back from doing so.

I don't entirely understand what I'm so angry about. If I'm being honest, I'd have to admit that seeing Hadley hanging out with Sloane didn't truly bother me as much as I'd pretended it did. My behavior stems from a deeper issue than petty jealousy over seeing my girlfriend with her ex.

In actuality, I'm angry because I miss Hadley. I miss home. My friends. My old team. I long for the experiences and memories they are creating without me that I have sacrificed to be here at Stanford. And I don't know how to deal with all of these foreign emotions.

So I take my anger out in little ways, such as snapping at Hadley on the phone or ignoring my friends when they reach out. I avoid having to confess the truth, because I know I'm not allowed to be feeling the way that I do. I'm the one who decided to leave my old life behind. I made the decision, so I should face the consequences.

I've learned the hard way more than once that hiding from your fears doesn't make them go away.

Inhaling a deep breath, I reach for my phone. I hesitate only a moment before dialing Hadley's number, anxiously awaiting for her to pick up. I prepare myself to apologize, to get everything I've been holding in off of my chest no matter how embarrassing it may be to admit. After all, Hadley has always been my safe space. She'll understand.

My hope begins to slowly deflate as the phone rings and rings with no response. I feel deflated as I finally reach Hadley's voicemail, signifying she won't be answering my call. I press the end button and study my phone screen intently for a moment, waiting for a text from Hadley to explain why she can't answer the call. No texts comes.

I drop my phone and sigh, running a hand through my hair. Maybe she's ignoring me, and I can't say that I blame her. If Hadley had treated me as unfairly as I recently did her, I suppose I wouldn't be too anxious to talk to her, either.

I know what I need to do. An apology over the phone won't be enough to make things right with Hadley–not after all I've put her through lately. Neither will a quick text. If I want to keep Hadley, I have to show her how much she means to me. I can't keep hoping words will be enough to do the trick.

I have to go home.

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I'm trying to schedule a visit home sometime soon and falling prey to frustration as I realize working around my classes and practices is going to be harder than I first thought when Audrey enters our shared room. It's pretty late by now and the smell of alcohol drifts from her direction faintly, signifying she's spent her night out somewhere partying. I'm hardly phased by this realization. I've come to learn that Audrey parties quite a lot.

"Hey," Audrey coos as she closes the door behind her. She wanders over to her bed and flops down, offering me a grin as she questions, "Whatcha up to?"

I sigh. "Trying to find the time to make a quick visit home. It's not working out."

Audrey raises her dark eyebrows. Her expression is smug and omniscient. "Trouble in paradise?"

I'm assuming Audrey is referring to the fight that she witnessed go down between Hadley and I. She had been full of questions after I had ended Hadley's call that night at the party, curious to know what I was so upset about. Either due to the crisis I'd been experiencing or the amount of mind-numbing booze that had been running through my system, I'd folded and told Audrey everything. She'd been stunned to learn that I had a girlfriend, immediately bombarding me with an interrogation as to why I'd never mentioned Hadley or shown Audrey any pictures of her. Needless to say, Audrey had totally understood why Hadley was pissed with me.

"I really fucked up," I admit under my breath. I rub my face with the palms of my hands before blowing unruly strands of dark hair from my face that have fallen from my loose bun. "I don't even know what to do to make anything better."

Audrey makes a face, pursing her lips as if she doesn't want to say aloud what she's truly thinking.

I study her with narrowed eyes. "Just say it," I finally plead, unable to take my roommate's silence any longer.

Audrey shrugs, though her expression contradicts her nonchalant matter. "It's just . . . I can only imagine how I'd feel if I were in her position," Audrey admits. "I mean, if my significant other moved across the country, which stopped me from being able to see them, and then I found out they had yet to tell anyone about me–including their fucking roommate . . . I'd be pissed, Dev. I'd immediately assume the worst. After all, why keep secrets if there's no reason you'd need to?"

I bang my head against my desk. I don't raise my head as I mumble, "You think I made it look like I'm cheating on Hadley?"

Audrey's voice is low as she says, "Well . . . it doesn't exactly look good."

I sit up long enough to shoot Audrey a glare.

Defending herself, Audrey exclaims, "What? I'm just being honest."

"I know," I grumble. "I've learned the hard way that the truth hurts."

"It's not too late, you know," Audrey tells me encouragingly. "You can still make things right. The real question is: Do you want to?"

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a/n: 🫢🫢🫢🫢