How to Love Claire Mason

Antisocial

I don't have friends.

No, I'm not being dramatic. It's true. Alice and Lindsey are far too caught up in their daily make out sessions with their perfect beaus, both of whom they have dated since eighth grade. They don't have time for me; their single friend who can't keep a boy, and therefore cannot relate to their ranting about what a cute thing Jake or David did for them the other day. They are pretty, popular, well-liked girls with boys that adore them for more than a few months. Because they're worth adoring, worth loving. Unlike me.

Jacquelyn is my only other option. Was. She was never really a fan of him while he and I were dating, she even seemed to dislike him quite a bit, but starting the day after he and I split, she began spending time with his crew. It was only occasionally at first, now it is all the time. She even invites me to get togethers and parties she goes to with him and his friends. I politely decline each and every invite, even the ones that are just to hang out with her. I can't stand that she was suddenly so close to him. It is such a stab in the back. But she doesn't know.

It's been a little over a month. My always clueless and self centered "friend" finally is catching on to the blatant fact that I'm avoiding her as much as physically possible. Hell, if I could, I wouldn't even be at this school anymore. There's no one here for me and several people I want to leave behind. Especially him.

She confronts me while I'm waiting for my ride in front of the school, alone. I can't run. I can't hide. Can't pretend I'm on the phone because she knows I have no one to talk to. She sees me at school, on the outskirts of a group of theatre kids and stoners, not artsy enough to fit with the theatre geeks, and too straight edge for the druggies. I just stand there, unable to assimilate, but trying to look like I belong somewhere. Better than sitting alone looking like I'm a new kindergartener waiting to make a friend she will keep forever.

Jacquelyn approaches at a brisk walk, her blond curls bouncing rapidly, up and down on her narrow shoulders. "Hey Claire!" she says. As upbeat as ever. As if nothing happened. Oh right, she doesn't think anything did. I manage a curt "hi". She comes in for a hug. I give into it, but I am stiff against her tiny body. I always envied her thinness. I wish I was half as skinny as she is. God, she is so lucky..

"How are you?" She asks. She's got a fucking smile on her face. A smile. I mutter a "fine", which, of course, doesn't mean fine. I think the universal meaning of "fine" is "everything that could possibly be wrong is wrong but I can't bear to tell you that".

"Claire, talk to me. Tell me what's really going on. You never hang with any of us anymore." Her dainty pink lips are pursed, her giant green eyes growing larger with a concern I can't accept as genuine. Because she doesn't think she's at fault.

I don't say a word. I'm afraid if I do, everything will come out. And it can't. Not to a girl who is buds with him. Not a girl who has failed me as a friend.

"Listen, break ups suck, I know. I would hate to be you right now. But it's been a while. And, I mean, he's a nice guy. Yeah, you guys didn't work out. But I mean he is so fun and you can still come-"

"A nice guy?" I couldn't take another word about him. I had to cut her off.

"Yeah, he is. I mean-"

"A nice guy? Is that what you think?" Here I go again. "Him? You don't know him, Jackie. If you think he is nice, think again. He..he is a jerk. More than a jerk. He.." I'm at loss for words. I don't know how to convey my anger and hatred toward him to someone who is under the impression that he is nice.

"Oh come on, Claire. Trashing your ex doesn't make you the better person." She crosses her arms and glares at me a little. Me? Trashing him? She doesn't know about the messages.The texts his friends sent when he informed them (rather immediately) of our split. I've been trying to forget them myself.

From Bethany, his closest friend (hers was the first): you little whore. He was the best you were ever gonna get and you go and sleep with other guys? You bitch.

From Nick, his right hand man, who I had grown fond of as a friend: I heard you're anorexic or something. Maybe if you ate you wouldn't be so hungry for every guy's dick.

Lily, Bethany's best friend and Nick's girlfriend: wow. Just wow. Learn to keep your legs closed. And next time, save yourself for the one you're actually fucking WITH.

I had exchanged numbers with them because they liked me. Because they thought I was cool. I had been so delighted to have new friends. Not to give my number out to have them cyberbully me with it.

I didn't even call him out on the lie he made up. That I slept with other guys and that's why he dumped me. I was beyond, am still beyond, hurt. The fact that he had to make a rumor about me on top of everything he did, to cover up the fact that he had used and discarded me like a tissue, that was just too much. I was too numb to go through a confrontation like that, it was sure to only bring about more unpleasant feelings. If things could get anymore unpleasant. And here my former best friend was, claiming he was nice.

I finally manage to clear my throat and speak, but barely: "If..if you knew what..what he did to me," My voice breaks more and more on each word, "you..you don't understand...he..he isn't nice..he..he..he.."

Her turn to cut me off. "What? Did you sleep with him? Did you blow him and choke?" Her voice is cruel, critical, accusing. God, how can she say something like that? Who is she anymore? "Because that's not what I heard. I heard you slept with other guys, but guess what? I didn't believe it for a second because I know you Claire. You're too scared to get that close to anyone. I stood by you when they were talking trash. But now..now you're making me think something did happen. Tell me what happened Claire. Tell me. Because I'm sure he never meant to hurt you."

She lost her chance. If only she hadn't said the choking part and that last line. Those just proved her loyalty to him, not me. For her to defend him to the point where she was cruel to me, that was too far. I wanted to tell her so bad, to tell someone, anyone. But there was no way I could now. She had taken his side, betrayed me.

I turned away from her, to see my mom's car waiting nearby. "I have to go," I muttered, and took off, leaving her, dainty little mouth open, a million guesses of what had happened whirling around in her brain. I don't care. She can think what she likes. She can judge me for what she wants. She doesn't matter to me anymore. And I obviously don't to her.

She can judge me all she wants. I already feel like the whole world is laughing at me. She can join in.

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