His gaze swung from his fist to my face, and his expression made me catch my breath. My palm went to my throat as my anger was subsumed by the pain and horror in his own face. I reached out my other hand but Bo whirled and left before another word could be said, the door swinging open behind him.
I hesitated a moment too long and by the time I’d reached the door he was gone. Sasha’s door was open and she and Ellie stood in the doorway with Brian hovering behind them.
Brian spoke first. “Dude, that was some argument.”
“What happened there?” I asked, knowing they couldn’t give me an answer. They tumbled into my apartment and took in the mess.
“He didn’t hit you, did he?” Ellie asked anxiously.
I shook my head. “No, he’d never hit me.”
“That’s some hole,” Brian said, poking a finger at the edges and making more plaster tumble to the floor.
“You’re only making it worse.” Sasha grabbed his hand and pushed him away.
I went into the kitchen to grab a broom and proceeded to clean up the dust and drywall on the floor. “Guess we’ll have to fix this before the landlord sees it.” I sighed.
Ellie brought over the wastebasket. “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of a home improvement store. Maybe hook up with a handyman.”
“What about you and Ryan?” I dumped the stuff in the wastebasket and brushed my hands on my jeans. I realized I hadn’t even taken off my coat yet.
“He should’ve stood up for you,” Ellie snarled.
“Was he even there?” I asked. At the end of the confrontation, the faces of the other students had just been a blur.
I walked over to the sofa on unsteady legs and threw myself into the soft cushions. “Maybe Bo’s right. I’ve been a fool to hide my head in the sand. I left the field totally open for Clay and his crew to say whatever they wanted about me. If I had fought back instead of hiding out here, adopting the pretense that I could ignore everything that was going on around me, maybe it’d be different.”
“So now what?” Sasha asked. She handed me a glass of orange juice I hoped was liberally laced with vodka. I took a sip and shuddered as the alcohol hit my tongue. Inside, I saw a few gummy bears.
“What are these?”
“My emergency stash of frozen gummy bears soaked in vodka.”
“Really?” I rolled one in my mouth and nearly broke my tooth trying to chew it.
“Yup, I only break them out in dire times.”
“Hey, when I was dogged by Tim a thousand times last semester, I should have gotten one of those,” Ellie exclaimed.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Not every dating disaster warrants frozen vodka-soaked gummy bears, or else they wouldn’t be special.”
“Are you saying we have too many dating disasters?” I joked lamely.
“Besides, I have to get these giant gummy bears from a special candy store at home, and they aren’t cheap.” Sasha ignored my comment but she did ask me, “Are they making you feel any better?”
“Not sure if it’s the gummy bears or the vodka, but I am feeling better.” I smiled at her.
“How are you still able to generate a smile? If it was me, I’d be in a fetal ball in the corner, sobbing.” This came from Brian.
“What? Didn’t you see the ugly crying and shouting I did in front of Bo?” The tears had washed away my anger and shame and left only regret behind. I regretted making my friends have to stand up for me. I regretted allowing Clay to have so much control over my life. I had told myself I was being so strong, but I hadn’t ever stuck my neck out. I had made so many mistakes, and letting Bo storm out was only one of them. I sighed and took another sip.
“Who says that shit to someone else’s face, though?” Ellie asked, disgust evident in her voice.
“People say stuff like that to other people. Why is it so shocking when it’s said to the target directly?” I argued. I didn’t know why I was defending these people. The things that were said were vile and hurtful, and maybe I was in shock, but the surreal nature of the whole situation was getting to me. “I guess because I’d envisioned something like this happening…when it did it was almost déjà vu. I’d already lived it, and I kind of felt like all these people and their assumptions and their time spent making up stories about me must mean either I’m super interesting or they’re super boring.” I’d remember these things tomorrow and the next day and weeks from now and I’d feel awash with mortification, but for tonight I just wanted to pretend it would be okay. Fake it until I could make it so. The thing that was making me sick in my belly, though, was my mother. I got up and went into my bedroom and pulled out the notes that Clay had sent me.