Ahead of us, there’s a group of girls. They’re laughing loudly in that easy, unbothered way. One of them has pink hair, which is what made me notice them in the first place, but I wasn’t really paying any attention to them until one of them—the tall one in the middle—suddenly stopped. We all almost crash into them. Mason mutters something under his breath, and we all sidestep to avoid running right into them. As we walk around, I feel this pull that I can’t ignore. I reluctantly turn and lock eyes with one of the girls—black hair, green eyes, and the most stunning face I’ve ever seen. I’ve literally never seen anyone that I felt intoxicated just by looking at before. I didn’t mean to be a creep, but I couldn’t help but stare for a moment, just taking her in. I swallow the weird feeling, turn back around, and keep walking with the guys. But I can’t stop her face from being burned into my memory.
I see Erik looking back like he saw a ghost. Couldhe have been looking at the same girl?
I end up grabbing some grilled chicken and steamed veggies from the dining hall—sad food for my sad mood. Erik and Mason are talking about classes, girls, sports, and the usual spiel from Erik trying to convince Mason to come to the bible study group with us. I stay quiet, just listening to them, nodding when appropriate, and still attempting to stop the spiraling thoughts that the last couple of days and class have left me with.
Erik eventually says something, because it’s Erik, and he always notices, which I love him for, but it’s kind of annoying when I don’t even know what’s wrong enough myself to be able to explain it to someone else.
“You good, Bash?”
I stop mindlessly pushingthe food around my plate and look up at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m good.”
“You’re too quiet today. Seriously, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing—I mean, it’s just the normal stress of school that has me a little distracted. Class was a lot today, that’s all.”
“You need a break, man,” Mason says, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.
“Probably.”
“You should come to the Greek mixer tonight. One of the best parties of the year. The sorority girls always go big for the new pledges.”
Erik nudges Mason. “You think a frat party is a good idea for him right now?”
I give Erik a flat look. “I do have self-control, you know? I’ve been to parties since being sober…and look—still sober.”
Mason points his hands out to me. “Exactly. Plus, he’s the perfect DD when he comes to parties now. And I make sure to drink twice as much in his honor.”
“Real classy,” Erik tells him.
Mason nods like he’s proud. “And I flirt with all the girls to keep them away from him.”
Erik laughs at that. “Might end up having the opposite effect. They’ll end up running straight into his arms just to get away from you.”
We all laugh at that, and then Mason tries to straighten his face like he just realized he should be offended by that. “Hey! The ladies love me.”
“Whatever you say man.”
“As fun as that sounds,” I tell Mason. “I actually have some schoolwork to catch up on tonight, so I’m going to have to skip out this time.”
Honestly, I’m not in themood to be at a party. I just want to be back in my dorm, where I can be alone. A party sounds like the last place I need to be. I’ve still been able to go to a couple of parties since being sober and not have any issues, but I know when I’m in a state like this, a party and what comes along with it is too much of a temptation—the unhealthy ways I used to numb these feelings and turn off the thoughts are too accessible and at my fingertips in that environment. I know when I can handle it, and when I should stay away. And right now, my spirit is definitely urging me to stay away.
“Alright, man, but if you get tired of studying for that boring brain degree, you know where to come.”
39
Lydia
I’m entering this cycle where I can see the future crash happening, yet I can’t make myself stop the car from wrecking or prevent it.
“You’re in college now! Have a little fun!”
“Everyone drinks. It’s no big deal.”
“Come on, there’s a party this weekend.”—There’s a party every weekend.
“Take another shot with me, Lyd!”
Don’t get me wrong. Drinking is fun…sometimes. But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes I accidentally go too far. You see, for me, there’s this sweet spot with drinking. This spot—after a couple of drinks—where I feel really good. I feel more confident, more free, more happy. I like that sweet spot. But sometimes when I tiptoe the line of too many drinks, the alcohol starts to hit a different part of my brain. It moves from blocking out my past completely to pushing it to the forefront of my mind. And that’s a very dangerous spot to be in, because once I get to that spot, I get scared. I get scared of my own brain, scared of the images that flash in my mind, scared of the physical pain. My brain can trick me into feeling like I’m still feeling all my past pain in the present moment when I start to think about being curled up in a bed,barely able to move from the sore muscles and bruises on my body. I get scared of the words playing on a loop in my mind that tell me I’m not good enough, that nobody would care if I wasn’t here, that I could easily make the pain go away forever if I really wanted to.
