Daddies Brat

Leslie

I was terrified that living with Erin would break our friendship. We had been roommates the first two years at school, and we realized that we got on each other’s nerves when we occupied the same living space. We were fantastic friends when we lived separately, but horrible together.

But Erin had grown up a lot in the last two years, and her other two roommates were surprisingly clean. All things considered, it was a really easy transition.

And more importantly: I was more focused here, with fewer distractions.

“Roberta’s rent was paid through December, so you’re good to stay here that long,” Erin told me while I made myself a cup of tea in the kitchen. “Obviously you’re welcome to stay for the spring semester. Just let me know after Christmas break and we can draw up a contract or something.” She glanced around to make sure her other roommate wasn’t within hearing distance. “Amy is a stickler for paperwork. She’s pre-law.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“I really appreciate it,” I replied. “I owe you for this, Erin. Seriously.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t leave my bestie out in the cold. I still can’t believe the three of them kicked you out. They can’t do that, can they? You signed a lease! I should go over there and kick their collective asses.”

“I just want to relax and move on,” I said, putting up a placating palm. I felt bad for lying to Erin, but she wouldn’t have understood the truth. She would have insisted I stay with the guys and have as much sweaty sex as possible, consequences and education be damned.

My career was the most important thing in my life. It was stupid of me to get involved with not one, but three men during the final-and toughest- year of my undergraduate studies. It was doomed to fail from the start. I couldn’t pick just one of them to be with. I liked them all equally, or so close to equal that it made no difference. And even if I could choose, it would ruin my friendships with the other two. Not to mention their own friendships with each other.

I had to push them away, I told myself. It was the only way to focus on what really matters.

Then why did I have this immense sense of loss within me?

It got worse when they discovered that I had moved out. I felt bad for doing that when my roommates were out of the house, but it was the only way to avoid a horrible confrontation. Then the calls had started coming in. After that came the text messages.

I deleted most of the texts without reading them. The first few I did read hurt too much.

I spent the next two weeks living like a nun. No drinking, or weed edibles, or any fun whatsoever. Failing my psychology tests was a wake-up call, and one that I needed. This was the person I had to be, at least for one more semester. Getting my undergraduate degree, and then preparing for graduate school, had to be my top priorities. I didn’t have room for anything else.

Erin was supportive, although she insisted we make up for it by getting absolutely shitfaced when we came back after Christmas break. I promised her one night of crazy debauchery, which satisfied her for the time being.

For those two weeks, I was an academia machine. I consumed twice as much caffeine as I normally did. I visited my professors at their office hours and took on extra assignments. I went to the various study groups that I had been neglecting all semester while fooling around with Riley, Avery, and Harper. Any other free time I had was spent in my room with my nose in a textbook.

I was the best possible version of myself. That realization helped soften the sting when the guys eventually stopped texting and calling me.

In the blink of an eye it was finals week. I had two exams on Monday, one Tuesday, one Wednesday, and one on Thursday. The last one was astronomy, and I got a text message right as I walked into the building. It was a blurry photo of Saturn.

Harper: Just wanted to remind you how far you’ve come since failing that first test. Good luck today, Leslie.

I had to wait ten minutes to stop crying before going into the lecture hall.

After my exam, I packed my suitcase and hopped in my car to drive back to Flagstaff. Rather than heading straight to the interstate, though, I circled around to the other side of campus to drive past the house where I had lived for most of the semester. Part of me wanted to say goodbye. To thank Harper for everything, and maybe to apologize again for my abrupt departure.

Now that my finals were over, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I wouldn’t get the final grades until Saturday, but I was confident I had done well. And now that it was over, now that I had room inside my soul for more than just my studies, I thought about the three guys I had spent the semester with.

Why was I pushing them away? Was it really because I wanted to focus on my studies, or was that just an excuse? Perhaps I only enjoyed my relationships with them while they were a secret, tip-toeing around the house and sneaking away for quick sex when we had free time. Was the spark gone now that everyone knew about each other?

I didn’t think I was that shallow. But I couldn’t be sure.

Maybe I was blaming them for my own failures. If I needed to balance my life more, then that was on me. Externalizing the blame, placing it squarely on them, was a coping mechanism for my own inadequacies as a student. After all, they had been nothing but supportive. And they had their own lives to maintain, and didn’t blame other people when they struggled. Avery worked hard for his degree and got A’s despite his inclination for weed. Harper had his own full class schedule and still made time to help me study. Riley probably had the toughest road, juggling his classes while also being a student athlete, and he still made time for me. If they could do it, then why couldn’t I? Were they really the problem?

It doesn’t matter, I thought. It’s too late. I’ve burned that bridge, and am better off alone for the spring semester.

I drove by their house without slowing down.