I really needed to stop thinking about him.
I thought that he would try to win me back after that day I saw him at Shorty’s, and if he had shown up on my doorstep the day after, a month after, even today, I would’ve forgiven him. I was sick and tired of hearing that I overreacted about him hooking up with some random girl before things between us became serious. When I heard what he did, it was the worst kind of hurt I had ever felt before. But, in hindsight, I could see that I overreacted. I didn’t want him out of my life forever.
However, Justin never showed up. I wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t hurt. It gnawed away at me every day. Maybe what we had really wasn’t so different for him. Maybe I was just another notch on his bedpost. Maybe he’d forgotten about me completely.
I shook my head, trying to clear those depressing thoughts, and tuned back in to what Mia was saying. She had been rambling on about her killer night out, and after hearing the same story almost every morning for the past two months, it had turned into a little of a bore.
“So, there’s this guy.” My ears perked up right away at that, and I cleared my throat as I turned my head to pay attention to her. There was never one guy for Mia, there were always a hookup, or a ‘fuck buddy’ as she liked to call them. She had plenty of those.
“Really? Tell me about him.” Maybe this would finally be the turning point for Mia. Justin had been a big part of changing my life for the better, and even though when things ended I went into a little bit of a downward spiral, I stopped myself from plummeting all the way to the bottom.
“Oh well, he’s pretty awesome. Sexy as hell, smart, great job, all of that good shit.” She smiled coyly before jumping to her feet. “Well, have to cut the chitchat short, so go check in with Mommy-dearest. Tell her I’m still misbehaving. I’m off to bed.” She wiggled her fingers over her shoulder at me before heading down the darkened hallway toward her bedroom. Hers was the only bedroom on the first floor, and the only one with an attached bathroom. She called dibs on it the day we moved in, and really, we just let her have it.
“I don’t tattle on you,” I yelled after her, but the slamming of her door told me she didn’t hear me, didn’t care to hear me. Whatever, I wasn’t going to lie. Whenever my mom called and asked me about Mia, I told her the truth.
She didn’t have a job, hadn’t signed up for any classes, and basically didn’t have any responsibilities. She was out all night, and slept all day—on the days she bothered coming home. I tried having a few talks with her when she first moved in, but they seemed pointless. Plus, I wasn’t exactly the motherly type, the type that looked after people. That just wasn’t me.
I didn’t go into details with my mother, though. Somehow, Mia was making a name for herself around campus, and she wasn’t even a student. Apparently, she was a favorite over at the Beta Gamma Phi fraternity house. And when I say favorite, I mean a favorite for all of them. That was a story I never wanted to hear ever again.
Ever.
I’d never even gotten crazy enough to be with more than one guy at a time…ugh, just the thought of Mia doing that made me sick to my stomach. I think she told me those stories on purpose. She really was out of control. But Gerald, my stepfather, footed the bill for our rental house and as long as she didn’t bring any of that home with her, then I guess I was fine with it.
I didn’t have the time to worry about other people. I finally had some control over my life and where it was going, and I needed to focus on that. Adelaide McGregor had her shit together, and that’s how it was going to stay.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Della. It will totally work.
I NEVER THOUGHT I would actually enjoy going to classes, but this semester I really was. All of my general education courses were far behind me, something that I saw as a huge accomplishment because when I first started college I could not have cared less. Now, I was taking classes that made me realize getting my degree was just that much closer.
When I chose early childhood education as my major, I didn’t even think twice about having to work with younger kids. Why? Because I was having a blonde moment or something. I was literally scared of kids. Babies, mainly, but the kids I would be teaching were still young.