After I left Anika’s room, I turned on my phone. There were texts and e-mails from Jeremiah, and they kept coming. I got under my covers and read them all, each and every one. Then I reread them, and when I was done, I finally wrote him back and said, Give me some space. He wrote OK, and that was the last text I got from him that day. I still kept checking my phone to see if there was anything from him, and when there wasn’t, I was disappointed, even though I knew I didn’t have a right to be. I wanted him to leave me alone, and I wanted him to keep trying to fix things. But if I didn’t know what I wanted, how could he possibly?
I stayed in my room, packing up. I was hungry, and I still had meals left on my meal card, but I was afraid I might run into Lacie on campus. Or worse, Jeremiah. Still, it was good to have something to do and to be able to turn the music on loud without having to hear my roommate Jillian complain.
When I couldn’t take the hunger anymore, I called Taylor and told her everything. She screamed so loud, I had to hold the phone away from my ear. She came right over with a black-bean burrito and a strawberry-banana smoothie. She kept shaking her head and saying, “That Zeta Phi slut.”
“It wasn’t just her, it was him, too,” I said, between bites of my burrito.
“Oh, I know. Just you wait. I’m gonna drag my nails across his face when I see him. I’ll leave him so scarred, no girl will ever hook up with him again.” She inspected her manicured nails like they were artillery. “When I go to the salon tomorrow, I’m gonna tell Danielle to make them sharp.”
My heart swelled. There are some things only a friend who’s known you your whole life can say, and instantly, I felt a little better. “You don’t have to scar him.”
“But I want to.” She hooked her pinky finger with mine. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Better, now that you’re here.”
When I was sucking down the last of my smoothie, Taylor asked me, “Do you think you’ll take him back?”
I was surprised and really relieved not to hear any judgment in her voice. “What would you do?” I asked her.
“It’s up to you.”
“I know, but… would you take him back?”
“Under ordinary circumstances, no. If some guy cheated on me while we were on a break, if he so much as looked at another girl, no. He’d be donzo.” She chewed on her straw. “But Jeremy’s not some guy. You have a history together.”
“What happened to all that talk about scarring him?”
“Don’t get it twisted, I hate him to death right now. He effed up in a colossal way. But he’ll never be just some guy, not to you. That’s a fact.”
I didn’t say anything. But I knew she was right.
“I could still round up my sorority sisters and go slash his tires tonight.” Taylor bumped my shoulder. “Hmm? Whaddyathink?”
She was trying to make me laugh. It worked. I laughed for the first time in what felt like a long time.
