Resentment(29)

On the last day of class, yearbook signing day, I feel the most humiliated. People are rudely asking me to sign my picture with the byline of “#1 Cock Collector” and still asking me about a sex tape that has never existed.

I don’t go to graduation. Even though my mom drops me off at the ceremony and sits in the crowd, I leave through a backdoor with Autumn and we decide that we’ll never discuss Central or the asshole that ruined it for me ever again.

The only exception is the headline that runs in the next day’s local paper. Central High had posted an interesting bit of information about the graduation ceremony.

I was the first valedictorian in the school’s history that didn’t show up.

Dean was the first salutatorian to do the same.

The paper demands answers for the strange “lack of class” and wonders what could have happened that both of the school’s highest honored students could have wanted to miss the program.

I skim the rest of the article and tuck the newspaper into a box that I don’t plan on opening for decades, along with any and everything that reminds me of the boy who broke my heart, asshole Dean Collins.

If there’s one thing I’ll never be able to pack away, it’s the utter resentment I have for him in my heart, and I swear to god I will never forget how this moment feels. I will never fucking forget...





PART II.

The Present.





Regret ** Resentment** Redemption

RESENTMENT (n:.) The act of hating—no, fucking loathing Dean Collins. (Yes, I’m well aware that’s not the actual definition, but it might as well be...)





Chapter 10


MIA

Ten years later...

Subject: A resignation and a FUCK YOU. (Fuck you HARD.)

Dear McConnell & Brinley Associates,

I’m sending you this email to let you know that today will be the last day I ever step foot in your company.

I have truly enjoyed wasting the last four years of my life, pretending to believe in your vision, and I’m seriously hurt that I will no longer be able to sacrifice my sanity working under the directive talents of the amazingly driven and highly intelligent individuals that run this company. (Translation: Look up the word “sarcasm” just in case you think I’m being serious.)

Since I probably won’t be given an exit interview, I’ll give you my closing thoughts here: I gave up Julliard for your company’s shit, and by “shit” I mean the joke of a benefits package you offer, the terrible hours you make us all work, and the dense CEO who’s only in charge because his “Daddy” appointed him. (For the record, he’s a fucking idiot, and if no one forwards this message to him, I’ll put it on the internet, so more people can see it.) My Harvard degree has pretty much withered to waste by being put in charge of coffee runs, calendar writing, and paper supply inventory counts, so guess what? I’m taking half of the newest printing paper inventory with me

And as far as the mandatory, “What do you think our company could do to improve?” final question of the usual exit interview, my answer stands as such: You can shut the hell down and give everyone the key to their souls back before it’s too late....

Too-da-loo,

Mia Gray

PS. I honestly didn’t mean to keep the company-supplied stapler and I almost left it yesterday morning, until Bill asked me to get him another cup of coffee so...Fuck Bill, and fuck your stapler. It’s mine. (See attached photo :-) )

I reread the email one last time and hit send before setting my phone down. My first task of the day is now done. Now, to task number two, break up with my current bum of a boyfriend, Michael.

As I sit in a small pastry café, waiting for him to arrive, my mind can’t help but replay all the many mistakes I’ve made these past ten years, including Michael. He was the first guy I fell for after high school and he was supposed to be my anti-Dean: He wasn’t as social, he wasn’t “Mr. Popular” on campus. (Okay...no one can really be “popular” in college, but still...) He was a third year law student with big dreams and a focus that pushed me harder.

When we first started dating, I really liked him and I thought that I could see myself marrying him one day. But eventually, things changed, and Michael definitely changed. After he failed the Bar exam (the first time he took it), he became the guy with nothing more than a pipe dream and wasted potential.

He didn’t take me on dates anymore; he didn’t bother having conversations anymore, and at some point, he stopped caring about getting out of bed anymore. After a while, not only was I carrying all the responsibility, but I was carrying our entire relationship.

I now feel like I’ve wasted an entire chunk of my life and I swear to God, if there was any way I could go back and erase a few sections, the past ten years would hit the chopping block, stat.