Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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I never really bought into the whole living for the weekend thing until recently. Once upon a time I faked that I did. The same way most high school students fake things to fit in. I had surrounded myself with others who would go through the motions of commitments during the week —school, sports, jobs—and then spend the entire weekend getting cross faded and stumbling back through their bedroom windows before their families woke up.I did those things too, but out of necessity to fill time and make sure I was never alone. It was all a cover to pretend I was fine when I clearly wasn't.
I've since learned how to find balance and to enjoy solitude. And this weekend I finally get just that.
I may be the only person on the campus not planning to sweat straight alcohol from my pores at the first football game of the season. It's completley fine by me because it means that I get to spend the entire weekend in my bed. No interruptions, zero obligations, and no pretending.
"Do you want to go to the game together?" Alyssa asks. She's using the edge of the futon as a step stool to reach my lofted bed, her arms hanging onto the railing bringing her face dangerously close to mine. I ignore her, and continue to watch the episode of Vanderpump Rules.
Alyssa doesn't back budge. Nothing can prepare you to share a room with someone for the first time. One of us in this room has taken the challenge in strides. I, on the other hand, miss my privacy.
After the whole party debacle at my brother's, I thought we were done for. While I hid and fought off anxiety induced waterworks, she got extremely drunk on free alcohol. I ended up being a human crutch, aiding her in the rocky walk home.
I believed that was our downfall, a foreshadowing for a school year full of disagreements and tiptoeing around one another. Alyssa, however, saw it as our beginning. The fact that I didn't leave her alone to find her own way home apparently signified a true friendship just waiting to form. Little does she remember, I did try to leave her, but she followed me and then started going the wrong direction. I'm trying to start over, being a suspect of homicidal negligence isn't going to help me.
My one act of kindness has earned me endless invitations for shared meals or to share clothing. It's what I imagine living with Gabi would have looked like had she not abandoned me. And if Gabi started doing yoga and snorting cocaine in between Pranayama breaths. When I mentioned this to Gabi during our phone call the other night she told me I was being a bitch and to try harder. Which, by the look on Alyssa's face, she too, is waiting for me to try harder.
"Oh I don't really do the whole sports ball thing, but I hope you have fun," I say, readjusting my computer so her face is blocked from view. Alyssa remains frozen against the railing of my bed. I can already sense her response before it comes,"I'm sorry, but isn't your dad the coach? And your brother is the quarterback?"
"Yes, but the terms dad and brother are a little too confining for me." I purposefully shovel a handful of my semi burnt microwave popcorn into my mouth in an attempt to prolong my need to answer again.
