The Crush Complex

Duplicity is the Best Policy

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.

It was Sunday night, and I was still freaking out over my horrible, awful, wonderful kiss with Jason Stanford that I had always wanted but shouldn't have gotten. I was the worst friend on the planet. It was official. You would have to search the galaxy for a worse friend than me. I had been pacing my room since this morning, with only small breaks of laying on my bed, but that was to scream into my pillow.

How could I have done this? How couldn't I have done it?

It was both the best and worst decision I had ever made. Ever. It wouldn't leave my mind, how perfect the kiss was, but it had to if I was ever going to be able to look my best friend in the eye again. How was I supposed to go back to school with this hanging over my head? Jason had probably been as wasted as I was, roughly. I mean, good enough to drive, but also bad enough to kiss me. The amount of smoke from bongs and blunts was enough to completely fill a minivan, and even if I hadn't noticed it, surely he had had at least one drink.

I slowly sat on my bed as I calmed myself.

Yeah. Yes, that was what it was. He might not even remember it. Why did that both bring me relief and pain? It had been the best event of my life so far, and also my first kiss ever. Still, as long as it got me off scot-free, then who was I to complain? Maybe someday I might share an even better kiss with someone else.

Sure.

I took a deep breath. I just need to feel my way through Monday, and if everything was still okay, then I would be able to make it through the rest of the week, and hopefully the rest of the year if Jason didn't suddenly regain his memory of Saturday night. I flopped down and let my head bounce harshly onto my pillow. Now that I had marginally improved my panicked state, I had another problem. How was I going to sleep when I could still feel Jason's mouth on mine?

______________________________________________

I made zero attempt on my appearance for my first day back at school after the weekend. Some black sweatpants and an old band t-shirt with a baggy jacket due to the sharp chill in the air. The cold was quickly settling in now that November was here. With any luck (which I had no idea which way mine leaned) it would be a white Christmas.

With a breakfast of cereal and a forcefully cheery goodbye to my parents, I resignedly made my way to school with a very sick feeling twisting my guts into knots. The day was uneventful for the first few classes until I reached the one I had with Casey. She was her normal, happy, self. I almost relaxed. Of course, that changed in an instant.

"I never found you at the party this weekend. I saw your text and I was going to surprise you, but I just ended up hanging out with Beth and some of her friends. Did you leave early or something?"

I thought I was going to cry, and I thought she was going to know as soon as she took in my tomato colored face and the guilty flick of my eyes, but she just smiled at me.

"Kind of. W-what did you guys talk about?"

Casey laughed. "I dunno, like, me and Jason and how awful Mr. Drew is and how we should hang out more. I'm pretty sure they only said half that stuff 'cause they were trashed. Did you get home alright? That place was pretty, uh...smoky."

I swore my eyes were tearing up by this point, but I was saved by the teacher snapping at us and being forced to focus on the lesson. It was enough to give me hope that my luck was good, and I could really get on without having to acknowledge my mistake. I made sure not to dart away as soon as the bell rang. It really was nice to talk to my friend after so long of avoiding her. By the time we reached the cafeteria, we were back to the way we used to be; not just before Jason, but before her parents' marriage fell apart.