by Sonya Jesus
Monthaversaries are for people who don’t believe in the potential of their relationship. As I enter my closet to grab my bath towel, I grimace at my inner Angel’s comment. She’s a grouchy pants jerk face, but she’s pretty smart. The lack of faith in my relationship is probably why I agreed to celebrate it.
I throw on a pair of jeans and a different top, stepping out of the closet and kneeling down to the floor to pack my gym bag. Haley comes barreling into my room with a purple envelope in her hand, disrupting my little internal soliloquy. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and she has on that lace shirt I gave her. I don’t have enough energy to hate that she keeps wearing that shirt, or the fact she actually looks good in it.
Her hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders. It looks longer and like she lightened it to an auburn, just a little darker than mine. She’s wearing makeup, but not a lot, and she’s thinner. She looks beautiful.
Two weeks moping around for Robins and I barely noticed her appearance, even though I’ve seen her most of the day, every day.
“What are you so happy about, Haley?” I add the items one at a time to my bag.
“It’s anniversary day!” she exclaims excitedly, just before plopping down on my bed. “I can’t believe it’s been one month since we met Connor.”
Did she just say we? I stop packing, sort of confused with Haley’s role in this relationship. Over the last two weeks, she has tagged along with us on everything. Every date has involved her or at least a mention of her, and I simply don’t have the patience to deal with Haley today. I hope for Connor’s sake he didn’t ask her to help with anything tonight. I kind of just want a private night with him, so I can finally confess my inexperience.
“Were you even there when I met Connor?” I couldn’t remember anymore! She was always there! I stand and head to the fridge to grab some fruit water.
“You don’t remember?” she asks.
I shake my head no, and walk back to my cheer bag, squatting down to check that I had everything.
“I was there when he asked you. It was the first day I met him.”
“Asked me what?”
“When he asked you to hang out for the first time. We were laying out on the soccer field, and he walked up, wrapped his arms around you and whispered something into your ear that made you blush.” She pauses, glancing down and to the right as if fixating on something on the floor. It takes her a minute before she looks back up at me, “What did he whisper to you?”
Maybe she was there? I don’t remember. “He told me it was hard to keep his eyes off of me.” I smile at the memory. Connor did have those make me melt moments; the ones that made my heart flutter.
“Aww, that is so typical of him.”
“Complimenting me?” I chuckle. “I don’t know if he compliments me that often, Haley.”
“Maybe not you,” she whispers in a barely audible tone.
I cock my head to the side wondering if I heard that right. “What?”
She shakes her head, “I mean, he compliments you all the time when we hang out together. Always gushing over how pretty your hair is, and how penetrating your eyes are.” She smiles and sticks her tongue out, making me giggle. “It makes me want to gag how hooked that boy is on you. You have to tell me your tricks.”
“No tricks.” I shake my head and take a sip of the fruit water.
“Did you get him a card yet?”
No. I didn’t know I had to get him something. I was pretty sure this was all just a plan to have sex with me.
“You should probably drink regular water instead of the fruit stuff,” Haley says, pointing to the bottle I just bought at the Breaker. “It’s better for you if you have an ulcer.”
“Water is water,” I say, not intending on exchanging it for plain bottled water. “Trust me, I would rather have a diet coke.”
She shrugs one shoulder, giving up on trying to teach me to be healthier.
I change the subject back to Connor, “Do you know what he has planned tonight?” I point to my cheer bag, “Trying to figure out what I should wear.” I’m also wondering if they have talked about this. Every time he comes to see me he always does a pit stop to see Haley. It’s unnerving.
“No, actually, he hasn’t told me anything, other than his band was involved somehow.” She gives me one of those smiles that are really just an upturned frown. “I’m guessing jeans are good.”
“His band?” I force a smile. Since when is Connor in a freaking band? And how does Haley know and I don’t? This is effing ridiculous. I throw my heels in and shut the duffle bag.
“Shit, maybe that was part of the surprise; he’s been getting a band together with his roommates. That’s why he hasn’t been sleeping over as much. Austin is really good on the guitar, and have you heard Connor sing? It’s so hot.”
Uhm? Did she just call my boyfriend hot?
“I mean, he sang to me the other day and I nearly fainted.” She fans herself for emphasis.
“He what?” I didn’t mean to release the Vixen Bitch, but it just happened. “Why the hell would he sing to you?”
Haley looks offended, but I don’t care. I have a right to want to know why the hell my boyfriend was singing to her.
Breathe, I tell myself. You’re on edge. Again.
I’ve been on edge for a while now. I feel like I have time limits on everything: my relationship, my virginity, my sanity. I lost Robins. I had no intention of losing Connor. Not yet anyway. “You know what, never mind, I don’t care,” I say, trying to calm myself down while simultaneously convincing myself that I really didn’t care. I come up with explanations, excuses for his actions. Like, maybe he was just practicing with her for me. Yeah, that had to be it. He just wanted to get a girls’ reaction. “I’m sorry Haley. I’m just having a rough day. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. What is that in your hand?”
She looks at it nervously, “It’s an anniversary card.”
“Did Connor ask you to give me that?” He would probably use her to do something sweet for me. I just automatically jump to worst case scenarios, and I need to stop. Haley lives with me. She wouldn’t actually hurt me on purpose. I think I am just overreacting— a side effect of space and sexual pressure.
“Um, actually, it’s for Connor.”
Okay? I might be a little confused right now. I stand since my legs are starting to hurt from squatting.
“I got him an anniversary card.”
She’s messing with me, right? I don’t even know what to say to that.
“You want to see it?”
I snatch the card from her hand and take it out of the envelope. It’s an Anniversary card with Eeyore on the front saying Once in a while someone amazing comes along… I would never get him anything like this.
What the frack? Doesn’t she know Connor would flip with the Pooh reference? Or was this her trying to piss me off and remind me about Robins (as if I needed reminding)? I open the card, and on the inside, it says, “And here I am.” Then right below it, in her handwriting, “Happy Anniversary. I thought it would be fun to get you a card to celebrate the day you walked into my life and put a smile on my face. You make me so happy. Your Eeyore, Haley.”
It took all I had not to rip the card into tiny pieces and throw them at her face. I breathe in deeply, trying to clear the crazy thoughts in my head. Closing the card abruptly, I gently put it back in the envelope and look at Haley with an alarming calmness.
She studies me, gauging my reaction, waiting for me to respond. I do not feel the need to. I’m pretty sure that the look I’m giving her conveys just how far over the line she has gone. There are boundaries that you just don’t cross with your friends’ boyfriend, and she officially crossed them all. If she is smart, she will get up and walk out of my line of sight before the calm that is holding my bitch back dissipates.
She doesn’t leave. Instead, she stares back at me in defiance. I can see a little smile start to form on the corner of her lip. This wasn’t a joke
! She is doing this on purpose. “You think it’s too much?”
I shake my head and end up pacing around my room. There are so many things wrong with this, I don’t even know where to start. Finally, I find one. I stop and stare her dead in the eye. “Eeyore?” A single word is sufficient to get to my point. She knows the bitch in me has been unleashed. It’s not in the volume of my voice— it’s in the tone. The way the words come out through clenched teeth emphasizes my irritation. There are threats laced in every moment depleted of words.
She hears those threats in the silence. I know she does because for about fifteen seconds she second guesses herself. She wavers until her short-lived moment of lucidity is replaced with pure cattiness.
“It was a joke in the beginning because of you and Robins,” she pauses, then delivers her punch line with a smile, “but that’s what he calls me now.”
The way she said it, made it sound like her nickname gave her some sort of claim over Connor. It connected them and that connection, in her head, was somehow superior to mine.
There is no doubt in my mind that Eeyore has a crush on my boyfriend and she is ready to make her move. I just didn’t know if her move was the card or if there was something more.
Did she think giving him an anniversary card would somehow make Connor leave me for her? I mean, I have my doubts that we’ll make it through because of the whole sex thing, but I know for sure she’s delirious if she thinks that would happen.
I choose my words carefully to purposefully challenge her. “Funny, I never heard him call you that.”
She’s no longer smiling, her jaw is tight, but she dishes it right back at me, “That’s because he only does it when you aren’t around.” She tilts her head up. “Did you think you were the only one he hung out with? The only one he likes?”
“When do you hang out alone with him?” She put a doubt where there should have been certainty. She knew she had cracked me.
“All the time.” The smugness in her voice throws my rebuttal off balance.
Did they? How is that possible? Is she referring to the few minutes I leave them together when I go to the bathroom, or when he gets here early and checks in with her? Or do they hang out without me? I mean, he sings to her!
“He loves spending time with me,” she says, breaking our stare down and looking into her phone.
She’s hallucinating. Or on something.
“He likes me.”
Something was off. I had a feeling Connor wouldn’t spend that much time with her, especially not enough to lead her on. She stops looking at her phone and looks at me, confused. “When do you guys hang out?” I ask. She doesn’t answer, just looks at me like I said something foreign. In case she didn’t understand, I ask again to clarify.
Her eyes search the room like she is just now realizing where she is, and answers me in a creepy sing-song voice, “Every now and then.” The next few words out of her mouth are incomprehensible mumbles,
What the hell is wrong with her? What is she saying? She swipes something on her phone, and I can’t tell what it is from here.
“Haley?” She freaks me out even more when she doesn’t answer. I wave the envelope in my hand in front of her face to get her attention.
She suddenly snaps back to life.
Umm. So weird. She is creeping me the hell out.
“I think he’s going to love it,” she states enthusiastically. This girl was on something tonight, or this is some sort of sick joke. “Don’t you?”
I hand her back the anniversary card. “I don’t like this. It’s really fucking weird that you are giving my boyfriend an anniversary card.”
She snatches the card from my hand. “It’s an inside joke, Lia,” she protests, squaring her shoulders. “It’s funny.”
“You shouldn’t have inside jokes with my boyfriend.” I pick my bag up and heave it on my shoulder. “Get your own fucking boyfriend and leave mine alone.” I’ve had enough of her and Connor.
She gets up, envelope in hand and huffs out like a steaming train, leaving the door wide open.
What the hell just happened?
I close the bedroom door, wondering if I should lock it, then decide against it. It’s not that serious, I tell myself. It’s just a crush. She has the single room because of her low self-esteem, body problems, and other issues. I need to remember that she is not always right in the head and forgive this little outburst.
Maybe I should be flattered that she has a crush on Connor. I step into the elevator and try to convince myself it’s nothing. I continue to try to convince myself all the way to the Rook Center. It didn’t work. It was freaking weird, and I need to talk to Connor about it.
***
I go to practice even though I am completely distracted. The pep rally is coming up, and I need to get my head in the game. We have new routines to learn, and the coaches are emphasizing how important this is for us. Student Affairs will be there, and we want to impress them so we can start competing again. But damn if I can’t stop huffing and puffing over Eeyore and her crazy ass obsession with my boyfriend.
It also doesn’t help that we are sharing the gym floor with the basketball team tonight. I suddenly miss the confinement of the mirrored dance studio. At least in that room, there would be no Robins and no space. No temptation to keep looking over at him, no reminder that every time I do, he doesn’t look back. One time, I caught myself staring at him for five minutes straight, like a crazy obsessive person. He had to feel me staring, everyone else noticed.
Meg actually pitied me, told me to take a few minutes. So I did. I walked straight outside and sat on the steps for a few minutes, letting the chill October breeze calm me, then I walked back and tried to focus on my cheers.
Halfway through the practice, our coaches give us a twenty-minute break to grab some water, breathe and munch on granola bars. The next few practices were going to go straight through the Dining Halls opening hours, so I skip out on the healthy granola bars and sneak out of the gym to the vending machine. I dig into my pockets and grab enough money for two snickers bars and a Diet Coke. Screw the ulcer. I need to sulk in sugary goodness.
At this hour no one usually uses the pool. I sneak into the room and lock the door behind me. I untie my shoes, remove my socks and find a dry spot around the edge of the pool. I place the cheer towel around my neck on the cement before actually sitting down and slipping my feet into the water. I swirl them around, focusing on the circular patterns in the water as I try not to think of Robins, Haley or Connor.
I give myself a mental pep talk. Everything is going to be alright. Things will work themselves out.
The door creaks open, causing me to jump up.
“I don’t understand why they locked the door,” Coach Reid says as he comes in with the assistant coaches, Deacon and Presley, following behind him. “I specifically told them to leave the door open.”
The soccer team enters and the gods set their stuff in the far corner.
I look for a way out, but I am stuck. Shit. I’m in trouble.
“Miles! Go find out who is manning the Rook tonight and bring them here. I don’t have time for mistakes. If we didn’t have the keys on us how were my boys supposed to get in here?” Presley Miles obeys and runs out the door as the other assistant coach tries to talk some sense into Coach Reid, but he is livid.
It’s probably not the best time to announce myself, but I do so accidentally, by dropping my closed can of coke into the water, causing a loud splash. Every single head in the room turns in my direction, and I light up like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve. I should probably get the can of coke out of the pool, but instead, I bend down, grab my towel and dry my legs quickly before putting on my socks and sneakers.
My audience watches me carefully. Avoiding eye contact, I attempt to gain enough courage to walk around the pool, past all the staring Soccer Gods, including the coaches, and out the door.
“Mrs. Martins,” Coach Reid shouts like a drill sergeant.
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br /> “Yes, sir?” I answer nervously. “I mean, Coach.”
“What are you doing in here?”
I can’t exactly say breathing. So, I lie, “Came in for a swim.” Not that I know how to swim.
“Were you planning on swimming in that?”
Uh, right! I didn’t think about that. There were too many hot guys looking at me.
“No sir,” I say softly.
“Then were you planning on swimming naked?”
One of the soccer guys, I think a freshman, whistles while the others start murmuring, but Coach Deacon calms them down. I’m beyond humiliated right now.
“I don’t know if you read the dress code, but swimming attire is required.” Did I mention Coach Reid is kind of an asshole?
I chance a glance at my public and find them all shirtless and in swimming gear. Gods of Atlantis, have mercy on me. No mercy given.
“Why is the door locked?” He scans the huge pool room. “Is there someone in here with you?”
I grimace at coach’s insinuation.
“No, sir.” Great! My vocabulary has been reduced to three words: no, yes and sir. I try to fix it, “I just came in here t-to...” I stutter because if I say “eat” I might as well transfer. “Umm.” I buy some time. “I just needed to get away from everyone.”
His face softens for a millisecond then goes back to looking constipated. “Then I suggest you rejoin everyone. After you get the can of pop out of the pool.”
Ugh! Did he not say that there was a dress code for going in there?
“I’ll get it,” Coach Deacon offers, already taking off his shirt and glasses. “She doesn’t have a suit.”
I smile and make a note to thank him the next time I see him.
“Neither do you.” Reid holds him back with one arm, and he offers me an apologetic smile as if he knew I couldn’t swim.
Deacon whispers something to Coach. I hope he convinces Reid to let me go before I either die of embarrassment or drown in it. Presley comes back and notices me standing on the opposite side of them. Now, I have Coach Reid and Deacon in front of me and the rest of the team to my right witnessing my humiliation.
