I strut down the hallway from Kathy’s room. After a slightly stressful evening, I am keyed up to finish my homework and get to bed by one. I know, I’m a good college student.
Harry Potter, the junior that ordained the “wedding” (and whom I had been crushing on as of a month ago), comes up the stairs. I saw him earlier this evening and we had exchanged formalities.
“Hey Harry, what’s up?”
He gives a return “hey,” pauses, then answers, “I’m confused.”
My eyebrow arches. I’m assuming it’s about math. “Oh? ‘Bout what?”
He cuts right to the quick. “You weren’t talking to me at all, now all of a sudden we’re speaking again.”
I know he’s not being dramatic. He had been flirting with anything that moved, flip-flopping between myself and Trish, and I had enough. Calmly taking Kathy’s advice, I let it go and stopped psychoanalyzing the kid. Whenever I saw him after that, I was cold.
“…oh, I’m sorry.” What else do you say to that?
“I’m not looking for an apology, just an explanation.” I give him credit for asking. Had he been a girl, this entire interaction would’ve ended, he would’ve gone back to his room and hypothesized the thousands of things I could’ve meant.
“You want the truth?” My mind rolls over spilling the beans on everything. It’s 11 PM and I have nothing to lose. “I liked you for two months, got mixed messages and completely let it go. Now I am slowly working back to being on speaking terms with you.”
Clearly, he is surprised by my answer. “Hey, I’m tired.” Goood justification, no?
“Like is a bit ambiguous as a term, but other than that….night.” He smiles and we part ways.
Walking away, I am not filled with the typical shameful emotions. I couldn’t care less what he does with the information. It’s kind of the best feeling in the world. 🙂
Copyright Megan Hennessey 2011