Being in love with a straight boy is a straight-up nightmare. Especially if it's been like that for years. But it's even worse when he's your best friend's brother, who has a girlfriend that's there to remind you how straight he is. That's when it b...
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This whole situation was kinda funny, when I thought about it, considering everything. I mean, if someone had told me last year that I'd end up dating my little brother's best friend, I honestly wouldn't have believed them. It sounded absolutely crazy.
But it was exciting and thrilling and I was actually looking forward to it, despite feeling like a depressed bag of potatoes because I couldn't get used to the idea that Harriet and I were no longer together. Constantly grabbing my phone to send her a message and realizing with a heavy heart that I couldn't because we'd broken up was getting frustratingly tiring. I couldn't help wondering how she was doing and what she was doing, but at the same time, I did my best to avoid her at all costs when I walked around campus, because I knew how painful it would be to see each other again so soon.
What surprised me the most was the text message I received from Nazy a day after the breakup.
Nazy: Thank you Mason. I'm proud of you.
Me: Is that sarcasm
Nazy: No, as unbelievable as it sounds, I mean it. About time you finally figured out your shit. I hope you're doing okay.
I was so shocked I didn't know what to reply, which resulted in her asking me if I was doing okay, and I quickly told her I was, which wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a lie, either. As much as it hurt, I did feel like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Nothing about this situation had been good, and I was glad it was now behind us. I was glad Harriet and I could both move on now.
What surprised me even more was that one of my classmates noticed I was down and asked me what was going on. My classmates were really nice people and we spent quite some time doing coursework together and going out to parties and the like, but we weren't very close in a... personal sense. Like for example, I knew one of the girls, a tall brunette called Quinty, had a European boyfriend, but I had no idea where he was from, let alone what his name was, and that said enough.
So when Michael sat down next to me in the study hall in between two lectures and asked me, "Hey, what's up? You and your girlfriend broke up or something?" I turned to him with a confused frown, because I didn't expect him to know anything about that.
"No?" he said then. "Something else?"
I shook my head and told him, "No... No, you are right. We did break up. How... How did you know?"
"Ah, well, you're usually like..." He moved his hands around to substitute for the words he couldn't find, which described it pretty well, honestly. I definitely wasn't as present and active as usual. I felt like lying down and crying. "But you've been super down lately. You weren't even showing up to class a few weeks ago. What's going on?"
"Uhh, long story short? I cheated on my girlfriend."
