This Is How It Goes

Chapter Twelve: Max is a Romantic

My first boyfriend was a guy named Rupert. I was mainly attracted to him because I was obsessed with Harry Potter and Rupert Grint was my favourite of the actors. My Rupert had bright red hair as well and had a cheeky grin that all the girls fancied. Sadly he had no English accent. I was eleven and had convinced myself I was in love. Maybe I was.

We dated for the whole of year seven. At one point my mother worried we might be getting too serious; but Rupert and I really were quite innocent in our affection. We never kissed, that was gross. We just liked spending time together and telling everyone we were boyfriend and girlfriend. We broke up at precisely 2pm on a Thursday under the tree where we had carved our initials and a love heart, as well as the words “4 eva”. It was my idea to break up. I told everyone it would be happening. So when the time came we had a heard of small children dressed in shorts and t-shirts, sweat seeping through their clothes as they watched the star couple break it off for good. I told Rupert I wasn’t feeling it anymore and that I had to move on. I committed the worst of all sins and told him it was, “Me, not you.” Rupert cried. I pretended to look forlorn. Truthfully I was just bored and didn’t want to enter eighth grade with a boyfriend.

I guess it’s ironic then, that I’ve decided now, in my first year of college, that I will not and cannot have a boyfriend. Boyfriends are fun, I won’t deny that. They tell you they love you, buy you chocolates and rub your back when you need them to. They smell nice and wrap you into their lives and beg you to never leave. It’s nice to be needed. But with need comes a lack of freedom. Restrictions, entrapment, fighting all come in the relationship starter kit. And I don’t need that this year. I just need to be Kat. Kat doing College and kissing nice boys, making friends and getting a good GPA. Not losing her scholarship. That’s all this first year needs to be. No relationships. No serious ones. Even if there is a very nice boy who attends weddings and has a jawline better than any male model. That I would very much like to get romantic with, in a serious type of way. It’s not like I love him. God no. But I see the potential. And potential is often lived up to.

I don’t believe in losing myself over others. I was a whole person before I met them and I will continue to be a whole person once they leave. But the problem with that is that you begin to fall in love not only with the person but also the way they fit into your life. So when it ends and the visits, the texts, the smiles and the touching go, so does a part of your heart. You may have been intact before they left and you may still be intact now, but they added something extra to the mundane that is life and you aren’t ready to give it up. It’s like winning the lottery and then losing all the money. You were fine before you won it but having it taken away is a punch to the gut. You have finally been given something extra, a little thank you from someone somewhere and then bam, it’s gone. You still have all that you did before but it’s just not the same. And I’m just not prepared to lose a little extra this year. Not this year. This is my year.

But I am open to temporary distractions. Especially attractive ones.

***

“Does this smell bad to you?” I ask Max, throwing her the t-shirt I’ve been wearing to bed every day this week.

She sniffs it gingerly and nods. “Yeah, that’s pretty rank.”

I sigh. “Guess I’ll have to get this one washed too then.”

Max, Laurel and I are organizing a trip to the laundry mat on campus. Neither of us have done washing since we’ve been here. Washing just wasn’t on our list of important things this week.

“What about this singlet Kat? It has a stain on it.” Laurel says holding up a black singlet with a suspicious looking dark stain on it near the hem line.