Senior Year, '94. Megan B. March
both of them, aren’t you?” I said, watching Ashlyn nod and Dan keep a stoic look to his face. I couldn’t ever recall a time when they weren’t pleased with their children. It was a little bit of a shock. Ashlyn was the first to speak up.
“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to think the little girl was Jensen’s,” she said, “Now I understand why you left early. When I found out, I wanted to wring both their necks. We taught those two better than that!” The last was almost spat out through gritted teeth.
“It was also shitty of Savannah not to tell anyone until now,” Alicia piped up.
“Alicia,” Dan scolded softly, shaking his head. I wasn’t sure if he was chiding her for cursing or for bashing Savannah.
“I hope she isn’t planning on suing him for back child support since she didn’t tell him until now,” Ashlyn murmured angrily. She reached out and put her hand on my face unexpectedly. “How are you doing with this, honey?”
I told her the news was still a shock, but I was glad the girl didn’t turn out to be Jensen’s. What I didn’t tell her was that Jensen didn’t want to be engaged any longer, and that I was having doubts about whether we could actually make it through this. She gave me a knowing look and insisted I stay for dinner, which turned out to be very dismal. I was more than glad to finally excuse myself around seven-thirty, saying I had a lot of homework to finish, which wasn’t completely a lie. I had only one paper due the following day that wouldn’t take long to complete. I couldn’t get out of the Meyers’ household fast enough.
Walking through the front door, the strong, lingering scent of roses hit me as an immediate reminder of my weekend with Jensen. I only hoped the roses wouldn’t be a reminder of our strained time together from then on. Fifteen minutes into my homework, I was sitting at the little bar by the kitchen, wrapping my legs around the stool and trying to will my creativity to kick in. A mad case of writer’s block had taken over, and tapping my pencil against the empty sheet of paper wasn’t helping me to come up with anything for a first draft for Persuasion. With my thoughts a blank slate, I stared at the vase of roses and reached out to touch one of the soft red petals. Just as I was about to lean forward and smell it, someone came knocking at my door. I hadn’t heard a car, but when I turned around and looked out the window I saw Krissa’s car parked in the driveway behind my truck.
“Kris!” I exclaimed as I threw the door open.
Krissa couldn’t have come at a better time. In the short distance it took to walk from her car to my front door, she had accumulated quite a bit of snow in her hair and on her shoulders. I noticed she had her school bag flung across her shoulder and I asked if she had come over to have what we called a “homework crash.” I welcomed her in and she gave me a smile, kicked off her waffle-stompers and dropped her bag on the couch. Giving the place a onceover and eyeing the roses, she told me I was one lucky girl. I didn’t know how to tell her I wasn’t as lucky as she thought.
Making herself at home, Krissa took off her coat and left it by the front door to dry before unceremoniously depositing herself down onto my couch with a heavy sigh. Taking this as an indication that something was wrong, I sat down next to her on the couch and asked her what was going on.
“I broke up with Ryan,” she shared, sticking her thumb nail in her mouth. She seemed nervous. “Valentine’s day and all.” She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t meant as a gesture of annoyance.
“Why? I thought you guys worked it out at Thanksgiving and he came here for Christmas.”
Krissa pulled her thumb out of her mouth and sighed again. “We did. New Year’s was a different story.” She looked at me for a reaction, and when I didn’t say anything she asked, “You disagree?”
Recalling the two of them being all over each other in the corner at the party, I pushed the thought from my head before I put a disgusted look on my face. It was the party where I’d gotten so wasted I didn’t realize Nate wasn’t Jensen. Krissa eyed me suspiciously and went on to say Ryan had gotten really drunk on New Year’s after he’d promised her he wouldn’t. Apparently because he’d been so drunk, Ryan had kissed some girl right in front of Krissa and embarrassed her in front of their friends. Part of me wanted to tell her to give him a second chance, but I bit my tongue because I didn’t want to go down that road. I had done the very same thing and knew it could have happened to Ryan, too. I’m glad I didn’t say anything because Krissa told me the last straw for her was when she later called a drunken Ryan at his dorm and some girl was in the background giggling and telling him to hang up.
“I’m sorry, Kris. Maybe he’ll get his act together and the two of you will figure it out.” A pang came to my heart as I thought of me and Jensen.
“I guess,” Krissa said, “I even told him to do just that before I’d consider getting back together with him. The thing is, I don’t think it’s in him right now to do that. I mean, the guy seems to be drinking non-stop anyway, and the cherry on the icing is him getting drunk to the point of making out with some chick right in front of me? You know, I don’t even think he remembered I was there.” She shook her head. “No, for him to straighten up it is going to take more than just a few dry weekends.”
Krissa opened her math book and started on her homework as if to tell me that was the end of the conversation. Reluctantly I went back to the bar and my own homework, but I really wanted to ask her if she’d known Ryan had a problem with drinking when he was still in high school. It was hard to believe college could do that to someone to the point of ruining a relationship, but then the realization hit me. It could happen. Jensen. Fallon. Nate. Me. We had all just chosen different outcomes than Krissa and Ryan.
Chewing on the tip of my eraser in deep thought, this new revelation bothered me, especially when it came to me and Jensen. Was there something deep down that was wrong with our relationship that we were both ignoring? I pondered that thought and seriously tried to think more about the paper I was doing.
Around nine-forty-five I was finished with my homework. Krissa had put her books away sometime before I was ready to and lounged on the couch to watch television, keeping the volume low.
When it was time to put my paper away, I asked if she wanted to stay over. Being alone wasn’t something I wanted, and I didn’t think Krissa wanted to go home, either. She looked more than ready to stay just where she was, and said her phone was probably ringing off the hook with Ryan at the other end. “I don’t want to deal with him right now,” she told me.
More than just glad she wanted to stay, I took hold of the phone and tossed it her way, saying to call her parents and that I had clothes she could borrow for the following day. “I can wake you up when I leave for zero-hour.”
“Sounds fab.” Krissa took the phone and dialed her home, talked to her dad, and then hung up. Their conversation lasted all of thirty seconds. “Ryan called twice,” Krissa shared as she put the phone back in its cradle. “Can we go to bed now?” She seemed a little agitated.
“Sure. I probably have an extra toothbrush, too.”
Krissa followed me back to my bedroom where I pointed to the closet and told her to put on whatever pajamas she found. We were both about the same size and I had a few outfits to choose from. When I came out from the bathroom after washing my face and brushing my teeth, a plaid-dressed Krissa went in and did the same.
After we both climbed into bed, I felt the need to confess to my best friend. “Jensen came to town on Saturday,” I divulged, pulling the blankets up to my neck.
Krissa turned toward me, propping her head up on her right hand. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I don’t know, I guess because it was a weird visit. You seemed to be pretty upset about Ryan and I didn’t want to put this on you.” I stared up at the ceiling.
“That’s what friends are for, to talk about our guy problems.”
I