The Art of Being Alone (Together)

01 | Summer of Solitude

Sometimes, it feels like high school teaches you more about navigating your social life than anything else. For example, one thing I've learned this year is to never, under any circumstance, let the enemy know they've gotten the best of you.

This is why I pretend not to notice as Mei and Rita stroll past my locker, laughing together way louder than necessary. Of course, I do notice, because once upon a time-- as in, two months ago-- that was me next to Mei. Now, on the last day of our junior year, it feels like a lifetime ago.

Around me, students talk loudly about their summer plans, signing yearbooks and hugging goodbye as they migrate towards the exits. My next-door-locker-neighbor Nico grabs paper after crumpled paper from his locker, tossing them in the direction of the nearby trashcan. Not a single wad actually enters the bin, since he's too busy ranting to his friend about summer school to pay attention to what he's doing. 

I zip up my backpack and shut my emptied locker, heading for the school's west wing as I think about my own summer outlook. Honestly, it doesn't seem much more exciting than Nico's, since the most exciting things on my agenda are walking my dog and sitting on the couch watching Jeopardy with my dad. Two months ago my plans for vacation looked a lot different, but a lot has changed since April. Mainly, Mei got a new boyfriend, who came in a package deal with her very own new best friend: Rita Wexler.

Now, if you went to Winsor High, you'd know exactly who Rita Wexler is-- it's impossible not to. She's the type of girl who, whether they like her or not, everyone knows. She's pretty, she's outgoing, and when we were in the eighth grade, she started a rumor that I peed my pants in gym class, all because she found out we liked the same guy. Unfortunately, both Rita and that fake story followed me into high school, where I had to deal with diaper jokes for another year until finally, people got bored and my embarrassing story got replaced with someone else's. Thank God for the short teenage attention span.

To put it lightly, I've never been a big fan of Rita since then. There was a time when Mei had my back-- she'd roll her eyes with me whenever we heard her name and would draw devil horns on Rita's yearbook picture every year to try to make me laugh. But apparently, if it meant getting to date Michael Mills (who just looks like the type of guy whose name would have alliteration), none of that mattered to Mei anymore.

I weave through the crowded halls, smiling and waving to a couple teachers and saying bye to some classmates on my way out. Even when I'm flagged down to sign a few yearbooks, we don't say much apart from wishing each other a good summer. Before April happened, Mei and I had been joined at the hip since we were freshmen, meaning I never got close with anyone else-- now, even if I had the chance, I'm not so sure I'd want to.

That's another thing I've learned: If something hurts you once, it's bound to hurt you again.

That fact helps make my lonely summer vacation look a lot more appealing. And honestly, as mad as I am at Mei, I owe her a thank you. She showed me that I'm better off without all that friendship junk. What's the point if it just ends up with you getting stabbed in the back?

Still, even if it is for the best, I can't exactly say I'm over it. If I had any way of getting Mei back for what she did, I'd take it in a heartbeat-- it hardly seems fair that I'm walking around with a vendetta while she's walking around with Rita, Michael, and their entire clique of obnoxious thespians in tow.

I make my way outside to the school's pick-up zone and spot Dad's car waiting in line. The bright June sun beats down on me, warming my skin. I embrace the heat because I know what's coming-- sure enough, when I get in the car, Dad has the AC on full blast.

He smiles at me as I buckle up. "How was your last day?"

"It was fine," I answer, substituting the word "boring" for something a little less negative. "We didn't really do much in any of my classes. Thanks for picking me up again-- it was nice not having to take the bus this week."