by J. T. Marie
She’d moved into Bethany’s dorm room unofficially shortly after they met, then put in for a transfer as soon as she could. By the spring semester of their sophomore year, the two of them were inseparable. Even if Bethany didn’t like her in the same way Dana wished, that didn’t stop them from becoming the best of friends. Hell, she even met Terrance, though privately she thought he was a tool and Bethany could do better.
Yeah, she thought, rolling onto her side in the top bunk, she could have me.
In the bunk beneath her, she heard Bethany’s soft snores amid the rustle of sheets. Dana was leaving campus immediately after the graduation ceremony, heading back home, but Bethany wasn’t. At the end of the week, she’d start an intern position at The Washington Post as one of their foreign correspondents—her job would be to monitor francophonic media from around the world for current events and entertainment pieces, then translate the stories for the paper to reprint. The advent of the internet made her position even easier; in the past, she would have been expected to comb through papers such as Le Monde or Le Devoir by hand. Now she could scroll through them online in half the time it would take. Dana knew she was excited about the job; she must be, because she hadn’t stopped talking about it since she was offered it.
The one downside to the position, from Bethany’s point of view, was that she’d be working in the nation’s capital, too far from her hometown to commute, which meant her relationship with Terrance would have to stay on hold until her internship was completed. Bethany wasn’t too worried about that, really, or so she said, but Dana could tell it bothered her a little. Terrance was a handsome man—even Dana had to admit that—and he had a bad habit of mentioning the girls he met or who hit on him whenever he could. It hurt Bethany when he did it, which was probably exactly why he did it in the first place. Dana didn’t have to be psych major to figure that out.
So Terrance wasn’t happy about the internship, but Bethany thought another year apart wouldn’t hurt them. Dana agreed with her, only because that was what she expected. Privately, though? She gave them six months, tops. If Terrance wasn’t already sleeping with someone else, she’d be surprised.
Of course she didn’t tell Bethany that. God, no. She valued their friendship too much. But she had her suspicions, and the moment Terrance proved her right, she planned to be there to pick up the pieces.
Outside in the hallway, she heard a door slam, one of the other residents on their hall up and at ‘em just as early as she was. Beyond the window, in the parking lot, a car pulled up with a radio blaring, shattering the morning quiet. So much for sleeping in, she thought. Might as well get up.
She stretched as she slid out of the top bunk. When her feet touched the ground, she saw Bethany’s eyes peeking over the bed covers, watching her. Dana smiled. “Morning, glory. Ready to graduate?”
“Ugh, no,” Bethany groaned. “I’m not ready to be an adult yet. Can I get a few more months of no responsibility?”
“Ha! You and me both.” Holding onto the bottom of her bunk, she stepped up onto Bethany’s mattress with both feet and shook it to wake her friend. “If you wanted to become a professional student, you should’ve taken less courses each semester so you wouldn’t finish on time. It’s too late now. At least you have a job to go to.”
Bethany slapped at Dana’s foot closest to her. “At least you get a summer vacation. Enjoy it while you can. It may be the last one you ever get.”
Jumping off the mattress, Dana laughed. “I’ll think of you while I’m sunning myself down in Nags Head.”
“You aren’t—are you really going there? No fair!”
Dana laughed again, then hurried for the door, dodging the pillow Bethany threw after her. She was going to miss this. Hell, I’m going to miss her. Part of her already did.
* * * *
The graduation ceremony wasn’t as bad as Dana had feared. The convocation for her individual major had taken longer; the College of Arts and Sciences was one of the largest divisions in the university, and if she had known the ceremony would take most of the evening, she would have skipped it. But her parents had come up for that one, too, so she’d been forced to sit through a roll call of over a thousand names, watching as each student walked across the stage to receive a handshake from the dean and a fake diploma (the real one would be mailed over the summer) and waiting for her turn. Though she’d been in school all four years, she only recognized a few of the names, but like her classmates, she’d clapped for each and every one.
By comparison, graduation was a breeze. The hardest part was getting the stupid mortarboard cap to stay on her head right. It took her mother an obscene number of bobby pins to hold it down at an angle Dana liked. Then there was a lot of hurry up and wait—she had to line up with the rest of the students in her major and wait outside the arena where the ceremony was held as the parents and visitors were all seated inside. Her mother, teary-eyed at seeing her in the cap and gown again, kissed and hugged her until her father managed to pry the woman away. “I’m so proud of you!” her mother sobbed.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dana thought, waving as they joined the lines leading inside. Remember that in a few months when I’m still unemployed. I’m getting an English degree; who’s going to hire me with that?
Then again, look at Bethany—a French degree and already had a job. So Dana might find something herself sooner rather than later. Her first stop when she returned home would be the local paper. It wasn’t The Washington Post, but maybe they were looking for a fresh face. She wouldn’t know until she tried.
After the ceremony was over, the first person Dana went looking for wasn’t her mother or father but rather Bethany. Her friend saw her coming across the crowded floor of the arena and shrieked. Dana replied in the same manner, her adrenaline running high. When Bethany tore off her graduation cap and threw it in the air, disheveling her curls, Dana tried to do the same but couldn’t manage without ripping half her hair out in the process. Those damn bobby pins were in there good.
“We’re free!” Bethany cried, catching Dana in a tight hug as they came together. “How’d that old chant go? No more teachers, no more books? Something like that.”
“It’s no more pencils,” Dana corrected. “But I’m the only one who’s free. You have a job to go to starting in a few days.”
Bethany waved her hand, dismissive. “Pssh. I’ll worry about that when it gets here. Right now I is gradumated!”
Dana laughed and shook her head. “And already forgetting everything you learned.”
“You bet!” Catching Dana’s wrist, Bethany gave it a squeeze as she sobered up. “Hey, listen. Since you’re not working—”
“Go ahead, rub it in,” Dana joked.
“Yet,” Bethany added, “maybe you can come up and visit me sometime over the summer? I sublet a studio apartment in Falls Church with a stunning view of the DC skyline, you just have to see it. Please say you’ll come.”
Dana covered Bethany’s hand with her own. “Of course I will. By this time tomorrow I’m going to be missing you something fierce and you know it. I’ll probably call tonight and beg you to let me come back to the dorm.”
Bethany wrinkled her nose. “Ew, seriously? When you can sleep in your own bed at home?”
“Okay, maybe not,” Dana conceded, though secretly she knew she was right. She’d grown so used to Bethany’s daily presence in her life over the past three years that she found it hard on holidays and summers home to be away from her friend for any length of time. They’d talked on the phone every other day over the last Christmas break. She couldn’t envision living the rest of her life without Bethany by her side.
But they were growing up and moving on now, going their separate ways, and Dana would have to learn to deal with it somehow. She’d meet other people, as would Bethany, and sooner or later it picking up the phone to chat or sending a quick email would seem like too much work to keep their friendship going. You’ll be the one I look for in everyone else I meet, she thought, studying th
e careless waves cascading around Bethany’s petite face. The one no one else can hope to compare with. The one I’ll always wish could’ve been something more than merely a friend.
Pushing aside her melancholy thoughts, she forced a smile and said, “Just let me know whenever works best for you. It should probably be earlier rather than later, though. Knowing my parents, the whole afterglow of graduation won’t last long. If I’m not pounding the pavement looking for a job by next week, they’re going to threaten to throw my ass out on the street.”
Bethany grinned. “If that happens, you can come on up there and live with me. The apartment might be small but it’s still bigger than the room we’ve been sharing forever.”
“Don’t joke around about something like that,” Dana warned. “I just might take you up on it.”
* * * *
When she first came home from college, Dana and Bethany called each other every night before going to bed. Because Bethany had to be up at six the next morning to get ready to go to work, that meant Dana was in her bedroom with the door closed at nine o’clock, stretched out on the bed with the telephone receiver pressed to her ear as she ached to be in the same room with her friend again. Already she missed the long nights they used to spend in the dorm, the both of them relaxing on Bethany’s lower bunk, cuddling beneath the bed covers with their backs against the wall as they watched TV, or talking late into the night after they’d turned out the lights, or simply sharing a pizza while studying. Graduation changed everything. Dana wasn’t too sure it was necessarily for the good, either.
After a few weeks, though, Bethany’s schedule grew more hectic. She was staying at work later, which cut into the time they had to chat. “I have to go,” she’d say after only a couple minutes, even though Dana hadn’t yet had a chance to tell her anything.
Not that there was much to tell her; without a job, the news Dana had to share was that she didn’t have any news. Small town politics and intrigue bored her—it was one of the main reasons Dana had chosen a college so close to DC in the first place. To someone like Bethany, still living in such a dynamic place as the nation’s capital, what happened in a little crappy Virginian town she’d never even visited was probably the last thing on earth she cared about. She only listened when Dana talked to be nice. It was what friends did.
Though if she kept rushing Dana off the phone, pretty soon they wouldn’t even have that between them anymore.
Soon the nightly calls stopped, and they were down to every other evening. Then it was two or three times a week, if Dana could manage to catch Bethany at home and not get the voicemail. Then it dwindled even further, a day or two during the week, maybe Saturdays if Dana were lucky. Bethany never seemed to be around, or was already asleep when Dana called, and rarely was the one to call first. She rarely bothered calling back if Dana left a message.
“It’d be so much easier if you had email,” Bethany complained at one point. “Then I could email you from work.”
Dana scoffed, “Hello? A computer’s expensive and not all of us have a steady income. I’m not still in college, remember. There isn’t a computer lab around the corner I can go to and check my email.”
“I know,” Bethany sighed. “I’m just saying.”
Well, just don’t.
Eventually Dana stopped calling altogether.
It saddened her to think of losing Bethany as a friend, but letting things drag on the way they were hurt worse. Better to end it quickly than let it linger. At least, that was what she told herself. Bethany was moving on. She had to do the same.
One evening, later than usual, Dana had just turned off the television after watching The X-Files when the phone rang. She hurried to answer the line in her bedroom so as to not disturb her parents; she really needed to start looking for a place of her own. Of course, she couldn’t move out without a steady source of income, and God knew she’d sent out her resume to every job in the classifieds. She’d even bit the bullet and put in some applications at the mall, thinking a retail position was beneath her but at least it’d put money in her pocket. What a waste of four years of college, she thought, snagging the phone’s receiver on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Dana?” Bethany sniffled.
Though they hadn’t spoken in well over two weeks, Dana instantly recognized something was wrong from the sound of her friend’s voice. Sinking onto the edge of her bed, she asked, “Bethy? Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
Another sniffle, then Bethany blew her nose noisily. Taking a hitching breath, she said, “Oh, just…wanted to say hey. See how you’re doing. I miss you.”
“Something’s wrong, honey,” Dana told her. “I can tell. What happened?”
“Can you…” Bethany sighed, dejected. “Remember we said you’d come up and visit sometime?”
How could Dana forget? “Yeah, sure. But you’ve been so busy, what with work and all.”
“Can you maybe still come up, though?”
“Sure,” Dana murmured. “Whenever you want me to, I can—”
“How about tonight?” Bethany asked.
Dana glanced at the clock on her bedside table—it was after ten and she was already dressed for bed. “Like right now?” she asked. “You know it’s a two-hour drive, and that’s without traffic. I won’t be there until after midnight.”
Sniffling, Bethany admitted, “I know. I just…I need to see you right now, that’s all.”
Dana sat quietly for a moment, trying to think. When she graduated, her mother had given her an old car to drive; it wasn’t a sexy vehicle by any means, but it was old and reliable, and she’d filled up the gas tank earlier in the week, so she knew she could make the trip, no problem. Her parents wouldn’t be happy—her father was already in bed, but she could hear her mother downstairs puttering around the kitchen still, and if she said Bethany needed her, then how could her mother say she couldn’t go?
She can’t say no anyway, Dana reasoned. I’m an adult now. I can come and go as I please. If I want to leave in the middle of the night to run off and see my friends, that’s my prerogative.
And God, she so wanted to see Bethany again. Talking to her again after so long was like dancing in the rain after a drought. What would it feel like to actually be with her in the same room once more? To feel the press of Bethany’s leg alongside her own as they sat on the bed, or the touch of Bethany’s hand on her arm? To hold her again?
Who was Dana kidding? Her mind was already made up—if she said no and promised to leave first thing in the morning instead, she wouldn’t get a lick of sleep all night, thinking of Bethany. Better to leave now and see her sooner rather than later.
Gently, she asked, “Can you tell me what made you so upset? So I know what we’re going to be up all night talking about?”
Bethany took another hitching breath, then broke down into a soft sob. “It’s Terrance,” she cried. “Damn it, Dana. You were right about him. What a fucking jerk! I’m through with him. I just—I don’t want to be alone and I really need to talk to someone, and you know what? There’s no one else I’d rather talk to than you. Can you come on up? Please say yes.”
Happiness flushed through Dana from the tips of her toes all the way to the top of her head. Part of it was hearing Bethany finally admit she’d been right about Terrance all along—she’d known he was bad news from the moment Bethany first mentioned him, and it felt good to know her hunch had played out. Bethany deserved so much better. Dana was just sorry to hear that Bethany had to find out the hard way, but given how much “in love” she’d been with the guy, it was probably for the best. She wouldn’t have kicked him to the curb unless he did something really horrible that forced her to let him go.
And am I just as horrible to want to find out what that was? Dana wondered. To want to rush in there and pick up the pieces, kiss her tears away, make her feel better?
She hoped not.
Plus, Bethany herself had said there was no one else she’d rather talk to than
Dana. How could Dana refuse to come up after hearing that?
“Let me pack a few things,” she said, “and I’ll leave here by 10:30. How’s that sound?”
Bethany sighed with relief. “Oh, thank you, thank you! This is why I love you, you know that, don’t you? You’re the best.”
* * * *
At first, Dana’s mother balked at the idea of her heading out so late at night to visit Bethany. “Can’t it wait until morning?” she asked.
But Dana had come downstairs already dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and there was little argument her mother could make that would persuade her to change her mind. Bethany had suggested she bring enough clothes to stay the week, which was fine to Dana—a vacation from her summer vacation sounded like just what she needed at the moment. If she played her cards right, she might even end the week with a girlfriend on the rebound from a bad relationship…
Can’t think that way. She’s my best friend. I can’t take advantage of her when she’s vulnerable like this. But if she comes onto me, I’m not going to be the one to say no now, am I?
Dana mentioned Bethany’s breakup with Terrance, embellishing it to make it sound as if she were on the brink of depression and simply needed a shoulder to cry on—she had no one else in the entire world to turn to, surely Dana had to go to her. Surely her mother understood? And while she was up there, Dana might take a look around at job opportunities in the DC metro area, since she hadn’t had any luck so far back home. “I can’t earn enough to pay back my student loans working at Walmart,” she pointed out. “Bethany said the paper where she works might be hiring…”
Finally her mother conceded defeat. “Alright, fine. Go and have fun. But call me when you get there, no matter how late it is. I’m not going to fall asleep tonight until I hear from you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Dana pecked her on the cheek and hurried out before she could change her mind.
On the phone, Bethany had given Dana directions to her apartment, which seemed to be right off the interstate. The prospect of a late night drive was exciting at first, and Dana didn’t even stop for a cup of coffee to fuel her trip before hitting the highway. Let’s do this!
