33. Simone #2
I feel lighter than I have in weeks. I feel good. I feel…free.
Before coming on this trip, I blocked Tyler’s number, too overwhelmed by all the pleading he was doing to get me back.
I have to be able to move on and do whatever I need to do to process what he did to me—without him in my ear constantly trying to apologize for it.
Apparently, I’m not the only one getting blown up non-stop lately, though.
“Your dad still hasn’t stopped calling?” I ask Mason over the loud music playing through the beach house.
He shakes his head and then tucks his phone back in his pocket. “He can keep calling. I won’t be answering.”
He takes my hand, pulls me over to a table full of drinks, and pours two cups.
He downs them both back to back and then looks up at me, grinning. “Oh, did you want one?”
I look around the party, then back to him. “I am at a party…and I did just get cheated on…and I am an emotional wreck still…so, yeah, I’d like a drink, maybe five, please.”
He pours another one and hands it to me. “Drink up.”
I tip it back and drink it until the cup is dry.
I feel hands on my back and turn to see some of my Gamma sisters.
“Come dance with us, Simone!”
Mason salutes me. “Go have fun, pretty girl.”
I instantly get lost in it all—in the feeling of feeling nothing, in the music, in the way a place like this makes it easier to forget how shitty I feel about myself lately.
The song shifts, louder, faster, and suddenly someone’s hands are on my waist. I look behind me and see Mason. I smile at him as he guides me deeper into the crowd like he’s done it a thousand times at countless parties.
“This is our song!” I shout.
“I know,” he says, leaning down next to my ear.
We move easily together—too easily. Like our bodies have known each other in every single life they’ve existed in together, like we’ve always been friends.
Everyone around us is hyping us up, like they always do when we find a dance floor together.
I laugh, and Mason spins me without warning, making me stumble, and I catch myself on his chest as his hands steady me.
Tank appears out of nowhere, taking my hand. “I’m stealing your girl!” he shouts.
Mason laughs and tips his head at us.
I spin into Tank and dance with him. He’s huge—like Jolly Green Giant huge—thus the name Tank. It’s like dancing with a really muscular tree trunk. But he’s actually a really good dancer, just like Mason.
He leans down so I can hear him over the noise. “How are you doing?”
I look up at him. “Good…I think.”
He gives me a knowing look.
“I’m trying,” I tell him. “I really am. This trip is helping, I think.”
“Good. You know you can always let us know if you need anything.”
“I know, Tank. Thank you.”
I watch over Tank’s shoulder as a girl hands Mason another drink. I’ve lost count of how many he’s had at this point.
I just stay there, talking and dancing with Tank for a while until another girl comes up and starts dancing with us, too.
I wish Lydia and Lani were here. It’s the only thing that would have made this trip better. I don’t have to put up fronts around them like I’m okay. I don’t have to perform. And as much as I’m enjoying myself here…it’s starting to get a little exhausting already.
After what feels like an hour of dancing, I look around the room—everything is starting to blur, and I’m getting pretty dizzy now.
“Where’s Mase?” I ask Tank.
He looks around and shrugs. “No clue.”
“I’m gonna go look for him.”
He gives me a little drunken salute as I walk off.
I push through the crowd of people, looking around for him, but can’t find him anywhere. There are two beach houses we rented for the Gamma house and the Sig house, so I walk over next door to check them.
I really just want to find him so I have an excuse to get away from this party, maybe walk somewhere quieter together.
Don’t really want to be out here stumbling around—tipsy—all by myself.
Partying isn’t distracting me enough tonight, and I know Mason would get it.
After searching the other house, I end up giving up and sitting on the steps with a couple of Gamma girls, nursing the warm drink I’ve been carrying around that I don’t even want anymore.
“Have you seen Mason?” I finally ask them, trying to sound casual.
One of them looks over at me. “Oh—yeah. He went on a beer run a while ago.”
My stomach drops.
“A beer run?” I repeat. “Like with someone, right?”
She shrugs. “No, I think he said he wanted to go alone.”
Anger flares instantly, cutting through the buzz in my head.
He was drinking. A lot. And he drove.
What the hell was he thinking?
I don’t even say goodbye to anyone. I just grab my things and leave, walking away fast in search of a boy I’m now really pissed at.
I don’t know where I’m even going, maybe to find Tank, or Chase, or…fuck…I don’t know, someone who will know where he is or how to find him.
I stop suddenly when I’m outside, staring at his truck parked in the driveway.
He has to be back then?
I look around, trying to figure out where to go now. I’ve never been pissed at Mason…not like this. All I want to do is find him and tell him how stupid he was for doing something like that…and also make sure he’s okay.
Mason doesn’t do stupid shit like drink and drive.
When I still don’t see him downstairs, I almost say fuck it, but decide to check upstairs on the top two floors to see if he’s in his room before I call it a night.
I walk up to the room he’s staying in and push it open.
I sigh in relief.
There he is, lying in the bed, passed out, no clothes on that I can see, the cover resting right at his boxers, and—
There’s a girl next to him, passed out on his chest.
I squint a little through the alcohol haze and then recognize her. It’s Sadie, one of my sorority sisters. She’s an upperclassman and one of the prettiest girls in our house.
My stomach drops.
Fuck, I really don’t like this feeling.
I shake my head.
Whatever, right? He’s a grown man. He can do whatever—or whoever he wants.
It’s none of my concern.
I tamp down the bile rising in my throat—from the alcohol, of course—and turn around, heading out of the house.
Joy stops me on the way out, grabbing my arm. “Hey, where are you going so fast?”
I rub my temples, annoyed with this whole night. “I’m—I’m heading back to my room. I’ve got a killer headache. Gonna call it a night.”
She looks around. “Well…have one of the boys walk you over, so you’re safe.”
“It’s just next door, Joy. I’ll be okay. I’ve been going back and forth all night by myself.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve been drinking, and I’m watching out for all my girls this week.
Too much shit happens on spring break when people are drinking a lot and in a new environment.
” She crosses her arms. “People think they can get away with more when everyone will just be gone in a couple of days.”
I just nod, ready to be alone.
Tank walks by, heading back over to the guy’s house.
“Hey, Tank,” Joy yells.
He stops mid-step. “What’s up, girls?”
Joy grabs my hand and physically hands me over to him like a child. “Walk her over to our house and to her room so I know she’s safe for the night.”
Tank nods. “Gotcha.”
I roll my eyes and just start walking, dragging Tank behind me.
“What’s wrong with you, Edwards?”
“Nothing,” I say clipped. “Just ready to call it a night.”
“Did you find Mase?”
I roll my eyes, but don’t let him see it. “Nope.”
“Oh-kay?” he drags out.
We walk over to the house without saying anything else.
When we get to my room, I turn back to him. “Thanks.”
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“I’m sure, Tank. Good night.”
“Night, Edwards. Text me if you need anything.”
“Will do,” I say, closing the door.
I rip my dress off and climb into bed, clutching the pillow to my chest.
I can’t stop the tears, so I just say fuck it and let them spill.
I don’t really know why I’m crying. Everything just feels so fucked up right now. This isn’t how things were supposed to be.
I was supposed to be thriving in college, with my best friend, living it up, still with my amazing boyfriend who loves me, and making a bunch of new friends.
Not stuck in a house full of girls I pretend to be friends with, even though none of them really know me, or care to get to know me deeper than this superficial surface-level bullshit.
I’m closer with the boys than the damn girls in my own sorority.
I like them, I want to be like them, and I want them to like me. I just feel like I’ll never really be the picture I paint for everyone else. And that’s the girl people are drawn to—not the real me, not the messy, emotional, lost version I am on the inside.