Chapter 29
Megan
“And as always, remember self-care,” Marlo said as we wrapped up class on Wednesday.
“The basics we always go over, yes”—she directed this to Connor, who lifted up his water bottle and gave it a shake—“but here’s a few new ones, especially now, since you’ve been into this new year a couple of months and have maybe added new people to your circle.
“Limit your time on socials. I’d advise to stay off them altogether, but I know that’s near impossible for your generation, having been raised with them.
But they can be very detrimental to your mental health.
I can state several studies on college students’ usage of socials and connections to depression and mental health.
And that’s before you throw in your particular ingredient of mourning. ”
“They’re all so toxic anyway,” Bailey said.
We still didn’t know how Bailey’s boyfriend had died, and her words made me wonder if the answer could be on her socials, or those of people who knew her. I thought about looking her up later, but didn’t want to invade her privacy if she wasn’t willing to talk about it in group.
“They can be toxic, yes. But I know they’re a way for people to connect, and that can be helpful too.
You just need to balance it,” Marlo said.
“And also, as the weather gets colder and we spend less time outdoors, be sure that you make time to get out of the house and classrooms a little more. I know they use this saying as a put-down usually, but touch grass.”
That had us all smiling, and class broke up.
On our way to the food court, Paige caught up to Connor, Logan, and me and asked if she could join us. To which we all said yes.
I liked our little after-session get-togethers. I liked it with just Logan too, but Connor, and now Paige, gave different perspectives on what we’d just talked about, and I liked that.
Halfway through us eating our food, Chloe showed up and joined us. I wasn’t sold that last week had been an accident, and now was convinced that her coming to the Union at this day and time was purposeful. I just wasn’t sure why.
We introduced her to Paige, and they chatted for a bit—and then Chloe turned her attention to Connor.
Oh, that was why. Or at least why she’d returned this week.
I couldn’t blame her—Connor was adorable and funny.
And sweet in a “dude!” kind of way. But I felt a wave of protectiveness toward him, toward all of us in group.
Like, could anyone else really understand what we were going through right now?
Which was ridiculous, of course. Everybody was going through their own shit, and it would serve me well to remember that.
“So, what’s everyone doing this weekend? Costumes ready?” Chloe asked.
“We have a home series this weekend,” Logan replied. “Won’t do anything on actual Halloween on Friday because we play again Saturday.”
“So, Saturday night? At your house, Logan?” Chloe said.
He shook his head. “The seniors of that year always throw the Halloween party. Either on Saturday after the game if we’re at home, or Sunday night if we’re away. I’ll get the address to Megan for you.”
Chloe was satisfied with that, then added, “But costumes, right?”
“Yeah, they do it up big. Prizes, even.” He turned to Paige and Connor.
“You’re invited if you want to come. Everybody’s welcome.
I’ll get you the address too. Are you all on iPhones?
Good, hold them here and we’ll NameDrop our info.
” We did, and both Paige’s and Connor’s info went into my contacts.
Obviously Chloe and Logan were already there.
“Thanks, but I doubt I’ll make it. The idea of thinking about a costume, let alone putting one together seems…” Paige said.
“Daunting,” I said, knowing the feeling.
“Right?” Connor said. “I mean, I know it’s good to get out and all, but God, a house full of sexy nurses and rubber masks of politicians? No thanks. Okay, maybe the sexy nurses part isn’t so bad, but…”
We all laughed.
“Really, though, I just don’t have it in me this year to think of a costume,” Connor added. All of us, except Chloe, nodded our agreement.
“You know what, why don’t we have an anti-costume party at my house? It’ll probably be empty with the boys all going to the other party. It can just be a quiet one with us and our friends that don’t want to dress up,” Logan said.
“I’d be down for that,” Connor said.
Paige nodded. “Me too, even though I’d only know you three.”
“Should we invite Dustin and Bailey too?” I asked.
“I don’t have their numbers, and we won’t see them again until next Wednesday,” Logan said.
Paige’s finger was gliding over her phone. “I have both of their numbers. Bailey and I exchanged them after the first session, and Dustin and I were in a study group together a year ago and I’m sure I got— Yeah, there he is. Mind if I set us up a group text? Sorry, Chloe, not to exclude you, but…”
“Yeah, no. I totally get that. Go ahead,” Chloe said. She scrolled through her phone while Paige created a group text and sent its inaugural message to the six of us.
Hey, everyone! Logan’s having an anti-costume party at his house Saturday night after the hockey game. Megan, Connor, and I are all going. Come if you can. Logan will send address.
“What should I name the group?” she asked once she’d hit send.
Logan looked at me and smiled. “Grief Inc,” we both said. She looked between us, smiled, and renamed our group.
“Grief Inc. convenes Saturday night at Logan’s,” Connor said.
It was going to be fascinating to see the six of us outside of the armchair room in the Union. I couldn’t wait.
* * *
I couldn’t go.
“I know, I’m really disappointed. Maybe I can make it later.
Like, a lot later. Or you could come over here?
” I said to Logan on the phone after his game on Saturday.
He was calling from the rink after having seen that the seats he’d left me tickets for were empty.
I’d texted him that I couldn’t make it, but he’d already been in the locker room getting in uniform.
“Tell me again what’s going on. Maybe I can help,” he said. I loved him for that. For wanting to take things off my plate.
Or maybe he just wanted me in his bed tonight, after we’d spent last night apart.
I loved him for that, too.
“That’s just it—it’s not one thing. It’s, like, three.
I’m texting with my sister, Mallory, who is at a high school dance and is on the verge of maybe having a meltdown.
And also with my dad, who wants to go pick her up, but I’m telling him to maybe wait it out.
Not sure if that’s even the right call. And also, Emily is fighting with Caleb on the phone in our room right now, and I’m not expecting that to end well, and I’d kind of like to be here for her once that finishes.
It’s just easier to be someplace quiet where I’m available to talk to any of them if need be. ”
“Okay. I get it. And if I wasn’t the one who had invited everyone to their house, I’d blow it off and come to the dorm and hang with you.”
“Thanks for that. But it’s fine. I’ll just miss being there.”
“Maybe. Or it might just be a bunch of Grief Group sad sacks sitting around.”
“Like Wednesdays,” I said.
“But with a keg,” he added, and we both laughed. “Okay, well, text me with how it’s going. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We have early afternoon skate, but then the evening is completely open.”
“Mine too,” I said. There was a moment of hovering when we both would typically sign off. I wanted to give a breezy “love you,” but no. I wanted to be face-to-face, ideally body-to-body, with Logan the first time I told him I loved him.
Ideally after he said it to me first!
“Okay. Night, Megan,” he said, after his own awkward pause that felt like maybe he’d been thinking the same thoughts I was.
“Night, Logan. Congrats on the win.”
After we hung up, I listened to hear if Emily was still fighting with Caleb on the phone or if it was safe to go see if she wanted to talk.
I could hear her voice, so I knew she was still on the phone.
It wasn’t loud like it’d been earlier, but softer, measured, and I thought that either they were making up or maybe she was trying to make her point.
I couldn’t make out the words, but thought I heard pleading in the tone.
Oof. I hated that Emily might be going through a breakup right when I couldn’t wait to see Logan, having been apart for two nights now.
“I just checked and the game’s over. So, how long before things get going at Logan’s house?” Chloe asked as she and Abby came out of their room to join me in our common area.
“He just called after showering. So, give them, like, a half hour, I would guess.”
They were wearing casual clothes for them on a Saturday night, having decided to go to Logan’s party rather than the larger hockey party, or any of the other costume parties going on around campus.
I suspected the presumed attendance of Connor was the reason why.
I wasn’t even sure if Abby knew she was meant to be Chloe’s wingman tonight.
It probably wouldn’t matter anyway; Abby was happy to let Chloe call the shots on their shared outings.
I didn’t blame her. Chloe had a knack for finding the best parties. She really did have this campus wired in just a couple of months. But I wanted to make sure Abby knew what she was getting into.
“And you know that a bunch of people from my grief study group are going to be there, right? And that the whole idea was because nobody felt like making an effort?”
Abby nodded and Chloe did a ta-da movement over her outfit of jeans, simple crew-neck sweater, and kicks. “That’s why we’re dressed down. We’re reading the room.”
I nodded. “I don’t know what hockey guys will be there. Maybe Logan’s housemates, but they’ll probably go to the costume party at the other players’ house.”
“Whatever. We can always ditch it and go somewhere else if it turns into support group or whatever,” Chloe said.
I could only laugh, hoping her insensitivity was a joke. I wasn’t quite sure.
No sooner had they left than Mallory called. Called instead of texted, which didn’t seem like a good sign.
She was in the bathroom at the school and crying because she’d overheard someone making fun of her dress, and someone else saying something about not having a mother to tell her she looked stupid.
She’d sent me a pic before she went. She’d chosen an old dress of Mom’s that was very cool and vintage and would have been killer in any place other than a Midwest freshman dance, where individuality was yet to make an appearance.
I talked her down (while silently cursing out the bitches who’d hurt my sister) and assured her that she looked great and they were probably just jealous.
(An explanation that always made girls feel better, even if it was most likely not true.) And also that she had originality, and that would always cause people to not “get” her.
It was true, and it seemed to help Mallory. But I couldn’t help but think that Mom would have handled it better.
For one, she wouldn’t be thousands of miles away.
After talking with Mallory, I called my dad and told him I thought things were in hand, and to wait it out until she got home. I spoke with Micah, who had just hit that “too cool to trick-or-treat” age but was lamenting his lack of candy on the night after.
When things had settled on the home front, I thought about heading over to Logan’s after all, but Emily came out from our room with a tear-stained face and in a quavery voice announced she and Caleb had broken up.
We ordered ice cream and pizza and other treats and spent the rest of the night rehashing their call with her ping-ponging between Good Riddance, Caleb and I’ll Never Love Again.
At two in the morning, we crawled into our beds. I checked my phone one last time to find a text from Logan that I’d missed an hour earlier.
I miss you. Yes, I’m very drunk, but it’s true.
I gave him a heart and kiss emoji, then the ZZZs and snuggled into a deep, junk-food-induced sleep.
When I woke up, everything had changed.