Metamorphosis (32 page)

I was shocked to hear Mason say
that he was in love with me, but I selfishly wouldn’t give that moment back for
anything - the first time a guy said he loves me. It made me feel comforted and
wanted and alive. I knew that I loved Ash, but I was so angry
at
him. And I was so angry
at
Evie
for dying and leaving me alone. Mason’s touch was the
only thing that made me feel better, and damn it, I deserved to feel better. So
I did the most selfish thing I could do, I lied.

I cupped Mason’s face in my hands
and forced him to look at me as I said the words. “I love you, Rat. I love you
so much and I want you to make love to me right now.”

It was still dark outside when I
woke up and I could hear the rain pounding relentlessly on the window. Mason
was asleep on his back and I was curled up next to him, using the nook between
his chest and arm as my pillow. I moved my legs to reposition
myself and the soreness that I felt between them caused me to
freeze
. The events from the previous day flooded my memory. The funeral.
Evie’s
parents.
The tattoo. Ash. The blonde. Mason. Me. I love you. Sex. Oh
shit, what did I do?

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping,
praying, that it was all a bad dream. I wanted to go back
seventy
two
hours and redo every moment of it. I slowly opened my eyes and moved
the lower half of my body again. There was no denying the tenderness from where
Mason’s body had been.

I had asked him to take me, to
make love to me; I had even told him I loved him so that he would without
reservation. I was angry and hurt by Ash. I had felt lonely, desolate,
abandoned. Mason’s touch, like always, made me feel coveted and cherished. I
loved that he craved me; I needed him to love me.

I was an awful person. I was so
much worse than Ash. I lied to
Mason
just so I
wouldn’t be alone. I was afraid I would be alone forever. My relationship with
my family was estranged. The guy I thought I was in love with was fucking other
girls. And my best friend, the person I had spent nearly every day of my life
with for over ten years, was dead. Mason was all I had left and because of my
selfish behavior, I had ruined that too.

Mason making love to me was
wonderful. He had been so gentle, so patient. He had made sure that I was taken
care of in every way and was only interested in giving me the perfect first
time. However, despite the physical and emotional fullness that I felt during
those intimate moments, I had never felt emptier than when I woke up and had to
face what I had done.

I started to have a mini-panic attack.
My stomach knotted with anxiety, my mouth dried up, and my breathing became
labored. I needed to get out of there, fast. I couldn’t deal with all of it at
once. I managed to climb out of bed without waking Mason, thankful that he was
such a heavy sleeper. My clothes were still in a wet pile on the bathroom floor
so I put on a pair of Mason’s boxers and t-shirt that I found in the dryer. I
grabbed my purse and keys that had been disposed of on the bar, and quietly let
myself out the front door. It was still pouring rain and by the time I reached
my car, I was a freezing wet mess once again.

I went straight to my room to
change clothes and grab a few things. I didn’t know where I was going, but I
was too much of a coward to stay at Mason’s and face him. I couldn’t stay
another night in the dorm without
Evie
, and I sure
the hell wasn’t calling Ash. After a hot shower, I threw on the first articles
of clean clothing that I came across. I had desperately needed to do laundry
and planned on catching up as soon as finals were over. I ended up in a pair
cut off jean shorts and a Rice University hooded sweatshirt. I repacked my
overnight back since the previous things in it had all gotten wet. I grabbed my
acoustic guitar, threw on my boots because I couldn’t drive in wet
flip flops
, and headed out the door once again.

Once in the car, I plugged my
ipod
in and prepared myself for a long drive, I just wasn’t
exactly sure where yet. The one thing I did know was that I needed to get as
far away from Houston as possible, and I didn’t have any plans of returning.
Ever.

Eight Months Later

It was the Friday before the fall
semester was to begin and I was headed east on I-10 towards Houston. It had
been exactly a year prior that
Evie
and I had made
this exact journey, excited and eager to begin our new lives. We had both
envisioned four years together to experience college and all of the
life-changing moments that came with it. From there we had assumed we would get
good jobs, find loving husbands, have beautiful little babies, and of course,
live happily-ever-after. But
Evie’s
death had changed
everything.

An old Red Hot Chili Peppers song
came on the radio and I paused my trip down memory lane to turn it up and sing
along. It was one of
Evie’s
favorite songs, she
always wanted me to play this song so she could sing it off-key and at an
obnoxiously high volume. I smiled and felt the familiar tugging at my heart
that I had come accustomed to when I thought about my best friend. It had taken
me quite some time to get to the point of recalling old memories of
Evie
and not crying, and some days I still got a little
teary-eyed when I thought about her, but for the most part, remembering our
moments together filled me with love and gratitude.

I began to feel jittery and
nervous when I passed the sign indicating that Houston was only seventy-one
miles in front of me. In knew that in less than two hours, I would be in my new
dorm room with Tessa, my new roommate. We hadn’t met in person before, but we
had talked on the phone a few times and
skyped
once
so that we would recognize each other. She seemed to be a sweet girl; she had
come across as pretty quiet and very focused on her pre-med studies. Quiet and
studious was exactly what I needed; the decision to get another roommate was a
difficult one for me and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be all buddy-buddy
with
whomever
it was. At first it had felt like I
would be replacing
Evie
; I was so afraid of
forgetting her if I moved on with my life. Eventually, with my therapist, I
worked through these issues and realized that I would never forget
Evie
; that was impossible. The best way for me to honor her
memory was to keep on living, doing things that she and I liked to do to
together, listening to her favorite music, cooking her favorite foods.

When I had driven out of town on
that life-changing night last December, I really had no idea where I was going.
I just drove and drove and drove. The sun came up and I continued to drive. The
sun went down and I was still driving. Finally, after I couldn’t keep my eyes
open any longer, I pulled off at a motel on the highway. I had no idea where I
was. I was completely lost in every facet of my life ~ physically, mentally,
and emotionally.

I checked into a room and fell
asleep within thirty seconds of
laying
down. I didn’t
even bother taking my shoes off or getting under the covers. The next morning
when I woke up, I realized that I needed to first figure out where the hell I
was and then I needed to come up with some sort of plan. I wasn’t going to live
in
Evie’s
car like a vagabond across Texas. I turned
my phone on for the first time since I had left in hopes that the GPS on it
would give me an indication of where I was. I wasn’t prepared for the thirty
voicemails and fifty something text messages that waited for me. When I had
fled Ash’s house, Meg had called Jess who had called
Evie’s
parents who had called my parents. All of them had left messages trying to
locate
me and making sure that I was okay
. Well, I had
assumed that Ash’s messages were similar to the others because I refused to
listen to them and deleted them before I changed my mind.

On top of those worried about my
mental state due to the death of my best friend and me walking in on Ash having
sex, was Mason calling wondering why I had left without saying anything. I
listened to his messages because I felt that I at least owed that to him. I
deserved to hear the hurt and heartbreak in his voice because I had selfishly
deceived him, knowing that it would cause him pain. In his first voicemail, he
sounded confused and understanding, but by the fifth one, he was downright
pissed. He told me that I was an immature bitch and to never contact him again,
he didn’t have the time to put up with my petty
bull shit
.
I couldn’t blame him for feeling betrayed and hating me. I hated me for what I
did to him.

Once I learned that I was right
outside of Lubbock, I started calling everyone back to let them know that I was
okay. My parents seemed bothered by the whole ordeal and told me to stop acting
like a child and to return home immediately.
Evie’s
parents were more concerned about my entire
well-being
,
but I assured them that I had just had a minor freak out and would be returning
home later that day. I texted Meg and Jess to let them know that I was okay,
but that I needed some time to myself. I sent
Mason
a
text that simply said “I’m sorry,” but I never got a response. I had nothing to
say to Ash.

After much internal debate and
soul searching over the next several weeks, I ended up taking a semester leave
from Rice. The school was more than understanding about the situation with
Evie
and gave me up to one year to return without having to
re-apply. I moved in with my grandparents and focused on getting myself
psychologically well. I began to see a therapist on a weekly basis and joined a
support group for young adults who had lost a close friend or significant
other. In addition to grieving
Evie’s
death, I also
found that I needed to take control and responsibility for my own life. For way
too long, I had used other people as a crutch to make my decisions. My parents
had pushed that way of life upon me, but what I didn’t realize was that when I
moved out, I had just replaced them with
Evie
. It had
taken months and months of treatment and rehabilitation, but finally my healing
process had reached a place where I felt comfortable getting back to my life.
It was important to me to return to Rice and get my degree. That had been a
huge goal of
Evie’s
and now I owed it to her, to both
of us, to fulfill that dream of ours.

So exactly one year later, I found
myself pulling up in the same parking lot, preparing myself for my second
chance at my life. I jumped out of my car, grabbed my suitcase, and hurried to
my room. I had gotten a late start leaving my grandparents and it was already
dark outside. I wanted to get unpacked quickly so that I could shower and
change. I wanted to look my best for what I had planned to do that night. I had
no idea of what kind of reception I could expect.

It was after midnight when I
finally pulled up to the familiar warehouse, the parking lot was packed which I
had assumed it would be. Most students were getting back in town this week and
everyone was looking to go out and party before school started up again. I had
not texted nor
talked to either Ash or Mason since I had
left. I had changed my number within a week of the meltdown, so I wasn’t sure
if either of them had tried to contact me or not.

Eight months. It had been eight
months and I was nervous as hell to see either of them, much less both of them
at the same time. However, I knew they were both there, I saw Ash’s car when I
pulled in and Mason’s bike was parked up by the door. I knew there was a good
chance that they were both probably there with someone else and I had vowed to
myself to not make a scene. I wasn’t looking to cause any problems. I had come
to say my piece and when I was finished, I would accept whatever response or
reaction they had. I had prepared myself for anything~ they could ignore me and
not give me the time of day or they could go bat-shit crazy screaming at me
about what a bitch I was. Whatever happened, I knew that I needed to do this.

I had hoped for a large crowd, it
was easier to hide myself in all of the people. I wanted to have a drink for a
bit of liquid courage before going through with my plan. I found a seat at the
bar furthest away from where Mason and his crew usually sat next a couple of
other girls. I kept my eyes downward at the bar as I sipped my beer; I did not
want to make eye contact with anyone in case it was someone I knew or who
recognized me.

There was a girl up on stage that
I remembered from when I used to hang out there. She had a beautiful voice and
was equally talented with the keyboard. I knew that she was usually slotted
close to the end of the lineup on open
mic
Fridays so
I wouldn’t have to wait long. When she was finished, the announcer introduced
the next musician as a guy at the back of the stage area began walking forward.
If I had thought I was prepared to see Ash again, I was wrong. I sucked in a
deep breath as a wave of emotions crashed over me. There he stood, in all of
his glorious surf-bum wonder, dressed in his signature khaki cargos, button
down
guevara
shirt, and flip
flops. His hair still hung long and shaggy in his face and just looking at it
made me want to push it back behind his ears.