All The Pretty Girls
PART 23
"Jessie," I yell, banging on her door, "You can't just leave it like
that! Jessie!"
I figure I have a choice of two options:
1. I can be mature and give Jessie the space she needs, or
2. I can chase after her and force her to see me.
Clearly I've chosen the latter.
I figure this approach can result in one of two things:
1. She sees that I'm not willing to give up on her and she falls
into my arms, or
2. She files for a restraining order.
I'm hoping it's not the latter.
It also appears that I've forgotten option 3: 'she's not home
anyway', which appears to be the case since I've been knocking for
fifteen minutes.
My hand hurts, so I leave.
As I wander back to my car from her empty dorm room I muse on the
situation. Is what I've done so bad? I mean, objectively, is
it /so/ bad? Sure, I've slept with someone else in the fledgling
weeks of our relationship...granted...
But it's not like I meant to!
And I don't see anyone giving me any compassion in all of this! I
mean I slept with Sarah! She's my friend so automatically it's just
plain gross! ...or at least it is to me. And does anyone care that
I might be traumatised? No!
It's hard for everyone. Not just Jessie.
I walk a little further approaching my car and muttering to myself
about the injustice of my situation like a crazy person. I even get
a weird look from the groundskeeper...the guy's wearing an N*Sync T-
shirt and he thinks I'm the weird one?!
I walk a little further, muttering now about the audacity of the
groundskeeper for thinking that I'm the crazy one!
I'm not crazy...I'm just...I'm just a total idiot.
Who am I kidding?
Jessie hates me and she has every right to.
She hates me and she's never going to forgive me.
Jessie hates me, and because of that, I hate me!
Nobody loves me!
Nobody's ever going to love me!
I think it's time to seriously consider becoming a hermit.
I finally reach my car.
I could be a hermit in style. The whole hermit in a hut in the
forest thing is totally passé. Who says you can't be a hermit in
a
studio apartment in Soho?
I scramble around in my bag for my keys and, just as I finally
locate them, I hear a voice from behind me, calling my name.
It's Jessie's voice.
I figure that if I'm hearing Jessie's voice calling to me in my
head, my resolve to become a hermit can't be all that strong. I may
have to rethink the hermit thing.
I shake my head to clear it, and try to make the voice stop calling
to me as I unlock my car. I can't let my optimism get the better of
me...as if Jessie would want to talk to me!
I hear her voice call again, a little more urgently this time, but I
pretend not to hear. I refuse to turn around. I refuse to look at
the source of the sound because I'm sure that when I turn around, no-one will be there. And even if she really is there, I have nothing
that I can say to make this right again. I get into my car.
Just as I'm pulling my car door closed, a hand catches it, stopping
me.
"Katie, didn't you hear me calling you? I was like...calling you."
I turn to face my assailant, stony faced, "I heard you, I just
didn't want to talk to you."
"But isn't that why you're here?" Jessie asks confused and a little
hurt by my tone of voice.
My expression softens as I realise that not only did Jessie just
chase after me to talk to me, but she actually seems upset that I
may not have chased after her. My mouth, having not yet caught up
with my brain, hangs open, and I leave Jessie hanging without a
response, so she continues.
"Why are you here, Katie?" she asks a little defeated.
I fix my eyes on her, "I came to see you. I knocked on you're door
for ten minutes," I admit, sheepishly holding up my bruised hand,
before climbing slowly back out of my car to stand before her.
"So why don't you want to talk to me now?" she talks slowly as if
I'm simple, but I guess I am acting a little weird.
"I realised I don't know what I can say. If you hate me you have
every right..."
"I don't hate you."
"...and if you...what?" I stop abruptly, looking at her as if she's
grown a second head, "You don't?"
"No."
"Why not?" I ask bewildered.
She laughs, presumably at the look on my face. Not a big, riotous
laugh. Just a small smile and chuckle, but this tiny expression
brings my heart rate down from the frantic pace it's been beating
against my chest, to something steadier. Calmer.
"What?" I ask of her amusement.
"Self-loathing kind of suits you."
"What?" I ask again.
Her expression turns slightly more serious, but she steps forward
towards me, which soothes me, and fixes me with her gaze, "Katie,"
she says softly, "I can see how upset you are," she reaches forward
and loosely takes my hand in hers, "about what you did," she
continues, "and that makes me want to trust you. And I do trust
you - I know this is not something you meant to happen," she lightly
squeezes my hand to reassure me, "So I'm not mad, okay? I don't
hate you," she looks deep into my eyes to emphasise that point.
"You, uh..." I squeak, and clear my throat, "you don't hate me?"
"No."
"So..." I begin, "What do we....?" I begin to ask before she cuts
me off.
"I just want to start again slowly. Okay?"
Being in no place to argue I break into a wide grin, "Okay."