Erin
“Are you okay?”
I blink, those words oozing over me like sick, poisonous slime.
How many times have I been asked that, if I’m okay, like that’s the only way to be? To live? Do I not deserve to be happy, or elated, or glowing with indestructible joy?
The answer to that question, it appears, is no. I am forever destined to exist somewhere between okay and not okay, never surpassing, never able to exist in a state of being that surpasses that purgatory.
Okay, or not okay.
And right now, I am not okay.
Kip watches me, his brows furrowed, hands folded over mine between us. He just broke up with me — if you can even call it that, seeing as how according to him, we weren’t even truly dating.
Since when is making out, going to dinners, seeing movies, hanging out and talking for hours not dating? Since when is holding my hand and walking me home not dating? Since when is texting me all day, every day, not dating?
My nose flares as a new wave of anger washes over me, but I hear my mother’s cool, calm voice in my head.
Hold your power, baby girl.
I smile, though it’s weak on the inside. “I’m okay,” I lie. “And, I understand.”
“You do?”
I nod, clearing my throat and pulling my hands from his. “It was all a little fast. Maybe we can start over, go slower. Start as friends.”
Kip nods, but his face folds, like he already knows there’s no way he’ll ever be with me. My stomach turns.
“Yeah, friends. I like that plan.”
I smile again, but it falls too quickly. “Well, I have to run. Panhellenic meeting soon. I’ll see you around? Spring Break is just a few days away.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Kip says, standing with me, but his brows are still pinched together in concern. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Erin. Are you sure you’re okay?”
That fucking word.
“Mm-hmm.” I pull my purse strap over one shoulder. “Bye, Kip.”
I don’t linger on his eyes, or his strong, square jaw as I turn and strut away from him, my kitten heels click-clacking across the tile floor of the coffee shop.
He couldn’t even “not-break-up” with me in private.
No, he had to do it at Cup O’ Joes, where everyone could see, where everyone could watch me do everything I can to hold it together when all I want is to fall apart.
If I broke, if I just gave in and slumped down into a pile of nothing on the floor, would anyone help me stand again? Would anyone pick up the pieces?
Clinton would.
The thought passes like a flash of lightning, strong and shocking and gone in an instant, leaving only the roll of thunder in its place. I swallow, shaking him from my thoughts as I make my way across campus, back to the sorority house.
“Okay, Erin,” I whisper to myself, holding my chin high. “New plan. That’s all you need, a new plan.”
I think over everything Kip said, how he told me things didn’t feel right, that he wasn’t interested, and he thought we should just be friends.
I scour our text messages, our dates, looking for some sign I missed — but I come up empty.
He’d seemed interested, touching me when we were in public, kissing me when we were alone, rubbing my shoulders and losing afternoons with me as we watched movies and caught up.
He even listened to me talk about sorority drama, which I knew was torture for any guy.
So, then, what happened?
I chew my cheek, the methodical click and clack of my heels soothing my thoughts.
Maybe he’s just scared, freaked out by how much he’s feeling. I’ve heard of guys backing out for that reason more times than I can count. Maybe he likes me so much, he doesn’t know how to deal.
But when I round the corner onto Greek Row and see Skyler on the front lawn, I pause.
Of course.
I watch her throw back her head in a strong laugh, she and Jess soaking up sun rays on our front lawn. They clink their plastic tumblers together, sipping a light pink liquid, and I laugh out loud at my stupidity.
It’s her.
It has to be her.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Kip breaks up with me. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Skyler is back to her happy-go-lucky self after weeks of sulking.
Something happened.
I can’t believe I didn’t see it, can’t believe they were stupid enough to think I never would.
Skyler’s laugh reaches my ear, and I clench my fists, forcing a smile as I straighten my back and find my pace again. Kip mentioned something about him helping Skyler with a tournament on Friday night, and my bet is that is where something happened — where something changed.
I smirk.
They think this is over? They think I’m going to just lie down, roll over and forget any of this happened? That I’m just going to move on, and maybe one day they can date, and I’ll be just fine?
As if.
I’m Erin Xander, and I decided almost a year ago that for the rest of my life, I would take what I wanted — just as others had taken from me.
And I want Kip Jackson.
I’ll get him back. There’s no question, no doubt in my mind. They may think I’ve played all my cards, but I’m smarter than they give me credit for.
Kip loves me. He did when we were kids, and he still does now. Once Skyler is out of the way, he’ll realize that.
Now, I just have to sit and wait for the perfect time to play my ace.
Game on.