Chapter 12 Who Am I?
Who Am I?
Maisie
I’m on autopilot, walking to Karsen’s dorm room when I catch myself replaying the other night with Connor.
He’s the sweetest guy. I can’t believe he opened up to me like that.
His dad sounds absolutely awful. A resurgence of anger courses through me at the thought, and I run a frustrated hand down my face, forgetting I have makeup on.
I stop and pull out my compact mirror to assess the damage.
A little smudge, but not too worse for wear.
I’m not used to wearing makeup. Honestly, what’s the point? I’m in the pool one to two times a day, and it’s such a hassle to remove it before getting in the water. However, I know Karsen likes it when I put in a little effort.
I round the final corner and step up to his door.
I’m assaulted by a familiar skunky smell.
I’m not judging his neighbors, but I hate the smell of weed.
I lightly tap on his door, and I hear grumbling on the other side.
It’s a solid minute before the door swings open, and I’m greeted by a hazy-eyed Karsen. Oh—not his neighbors, then.
“Hey, babe.” His arm swings out so far, I worry he might dislocate something. Karsen likes to drink and party with his friends, but I’ve never seen him smoke before. He knows better, what with mandatory screenings for soccer.
“What has you smoking? Something happen?” I ask, trying not to show how concerned I am.
“Nah. Can’t a guy just smoke when he wants to? Damn, why are you on my case like this?”
Frozen by his response, I stutter, “I…I’m not on your case, Kar, it was just a question.”
“Yeah, okay. And what about all your ‘questions’ about what I’m doing or where I am, or why I have to drink so much? Are you my mom or my girlfriend? Fuck.” He plops down onto a giant bean bag chair and takes another puff. The cloud heads straight for my face, and I cough. He rolls his eyes.
“I’m sorry for caring about you. You’re a student athlete—sue me for thinking you should be careful.” I can feel my defensive side coming out, and I take a deep breath to shove it back down. I don’t want to fight tonight.
“Whatever. Come here.” He pats the spot next to him on the bean bag chair. I hesitate but make my way over to join him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, because I want us to move past this as quickly as possible. Arguing with him is exhausting and never changes anything.
“I know how you can make it up to me.” He moves to snuff out his joint in a nearby mug, then shifts his weight so that his front pushes into my side. His hand reaches up to pull the back of my hair.
This went from zero to sixty, and I’m not sure I’m okay with that. My head jolts forward as I cough again at the lingering smoke in the air. It makes my head hurt from the pull of his grip.
“Can we…not, tonight?” I whisper.
He either doesn’t hear me or acts like he doesn’t because he starts sloppily kissing up my neck.
“Karsen, wait. Stop.”
He grabs my wrist and moves my hand to cover the bulge in his jeans. “Mmm, but I love your hands on me,” he mutters.
That’s it.
“Quit it! What the hell is wrong with you?! I said stop!”
I stand abruptly and rip out of his grasp.
I stare down at him. He looks pathetic—high and out of his mind if he thinks I owe him anything.
It’s like I’m finally fully seeing him for the first time.
He’s no longer the boy I first loved. He’s not even my friend anymore.
I realize my heart let him go months ago.
He didn’t deserve it in the first place. I don’t want to be with him anymore.
“Why you bein’ like this? I’m your boyfriend.”
Tears pricking at my eyes, I shudder. “That doesn’t give you the right to keep going when I say stop,” I grit out.
“My body is my own, not yours. When I say something, it deserves to be respected. No one should be treated like this. I’m leaving!
” I barrel for the door, swing it open, and step into the hallway.
He seems to come to and rushes toward me. I flinch back, and he stops. “Where are you going?” he asks, eyes wide.
“We’re done, Karsen.” I cross my arms.
“Babe, please.” He shifts like he’s going to grab my arm, and I block it.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me. Don’t text me. I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”
I slam the door in his face, and it sounds like his hand makes contact with it a moment later.
I jump at the noise, but then I’m shrouded in eerie quiet.
I take a moment to gather myself. My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking, and I’m dreading the possibility of this turning into a panic attack.
But then, I’m walking with purpose away from this place, away from him.
I make it out of the building. I don’t know where I’m going, but I keep walking.
I don’t stop until I find myself in the middle of the Quad.
For a moment, I think about texting Connor, but I can’t be with anyone right now.
I plop down into one of the Adirondack chairs that they leave out year-round and let the tears spill out.
They keep coming, harder and faster, letting the weight of it all fall out of me.
Not for losing Karsen, but for losing myself.
For trusting him with not only my body, but my heart, too.
Neither of which he was ever worthy of, even on his best day, but especially not after the shit he pulled tonight.
I feel like I don’t know myself. I’m not even sure who that person was who was with him for so long. How am I only fully seeing this now?
These ruminations last a few more hours, and the moon is bright in the sky when I finally gather myself enough to navigate home.
Angie is already asleep when I get in, so I quietly maneuver around the darkened room until I make it to my bed.
I don’t bother taking off my clothes or shoes; I just crawl on top of the covers and let sleep overtake me.