1: What A Catch, Donnie

College isn’t what I thought it would be. When I was graduating high school, I was excited about the terror I felt. I was going to plunge into a whole new environment with tons of new people. My comfort zone and I had a love-hate relationship. I was going to make new friends – I mean how could I not when I was stuck in a room with three other girls?

The day I moved in, my roommate told me that I had a stupid taste in music. That royally pissed me off because I have a large variety of music. She just happened to walk in when I was listening to punk music, which I know is only for the selective few. However, she wanted to talk and hang out with me. She actually talked way too much. She would talk to me while I was trying to study or when I was watching TV. She had this booming voice that could not be ignored. On the other hand, my suitemates never wanted to talk to us. They were the preppy-I-don’t-have-to-work type. One was on a full ride – not because she was smart, but because a big name oil company funded everyone that went to her high school to go to college. The other one was from a high end up family that could afford for her to run around all over town with her sorority sisters. My roommate was on food stamps, but drove a yellow mustang and a hummer jeep before that.

Me? Two weeks before school started they took away my financial aid. Apparently, I was getting too much help from other sources, which was ridiculous. I ended up having to take out a five thousand dollar loan and still had to pay out of pocket. So while everyone else was getting their refund check, I was working at a horrible retail store so I could hopefully save up enough money to pay off my college tuition before they kicked me out.

Halfway through the fall semester, my roommate ripped my John Wayne poster down. She said “he was staring at her while she studied.” He was looking upward. Was she doing homework on the ceiling? I don’t think so!

Also, they all had boyfriends. Boyfriends that they treated like crap – actually the rich one treated hers with respect. My roommate was always on the phone with hers calling him stupid. The other suitemate yelled at hers every morning before our eight o’clock class. She also cheated on him. Then she posted pictures of him and her with cute, sick little caption about how much she loved him on Instagram.

I stayed positive though. I told myself if I worked really hard things would turn around. I just had to keep searching for a better job, study hard, and try to remain happy to make new friends. Nobody wanted to be around a self-loathing, depressed person. Plus, if I actually believed that I was happy, it would eventually come true.

Spring semester my freshman year, my roommate moved out – along with her mini fridge. I was okay with it because she was sort of a bitch, but I was also kind of scared because I was used to her. When I got to school after winter break, all of the new girl’s stuff was moved in. She was in a sorority and had a bunch of glitter posters hanging on the wall. Also, she had a picture frame sitting on the dresser without a picture in it. From some reason this really freaked me out. What is the point? Did she not have any family or friends?

She did have friends though. They came in and out of the room all the time. She was never in the room, which was great except for the fact that I never had anyone to talk to. My suitemates never talked to me. They were always in their room. I could hear them laughing all the time. I sat on my bed and listened to them laughing while I watched my roommate walk in out with all of her friends.

I used to have a friend who I could laugh with. I didn’t have many friends. I didn’t want a lot of friends. I couldn’t handle a lot of friends. I don’t have enough energy for a lot of friends. But I had this one girl who was supposed to come to college with me. She was best friend. We could talk for hours about personal things. And we laughed. But at the last moment she told me she didn’t want to go to that college.

That summer, I worked. At that terrible, retail store. I checked out druggies and made sure that got their energy drinks with their EBT cards. I picked my entire truck over for quarters to buy me a can of Vienna sausages. I sat outside on the sidewalk during my break and watched the cars going by. Most of them were SUVs meant for families. They probably going on vacations.

My friends went to Florida. It was with her family and she could only bring one person and she chose our other friend. They didn’t tell me either. I found out on Instagram when she posted a selfie with the caption “best friends.” So I wasn’t a best friend to anyone.

I’ve heard that some people are nothing when they are out of high school. They can never get past those high school years. Me, I was a nobody in high school too. I did well in school, but I was just the smart girl. I didn’t play sports or rodeo or have a nice truck or anything. I was just smart. I had my group of four or five friends that I sat with every day at lunch and that was enough for me.

I cried myself to sleep most summer nights because all I could think about was being stuck at the retail store for the rest of my life. No other job wanted me. In college, I wasn’t the smart student. I was just the average student. I didn’t have a group of friends that I could sit with at lunch. I sat by myself and watching YouTube videos.

Before I started college, my friend who was also my ex but who I also had a crush on for about six years, told me that we should hang out because he would make any friends because he was socially awkward. We hung out maybe ten times that entire semester. He was always with all his friends from his high school or his roommates. I didn’t want to seem needy so I never asked to hang out. We hung out even less the spring semester because I didn’t want him to know that I had not made any friends. I didn’t want him to know how pathetic I was.

Sophomore year, fall semester, I went out on a date. With a guy in my chemistry class, which was why we only talked about chemistry. He was cute in his own nerdy way. But he wore white socks and I don’t like when people wear white socks. I don’t know what it is but it just grosses me out. He tried to kiss me outside my dorm, but I ducked into my room and missed it. I didn’t want him to think anything of it.

My sophomore roommate was pretty cool, except that she was never there. She was always over at my suitemates room smoking pot. That was the semester I caught up on my TV shows and stayed on top of all my homework. That semester wasn’t too bad. Except for my ex showed up with his new fiancé who worked at an animal shelter – where I tried to get a job at. I faked a smile and told him how great that was. Then there was the fact that this lady who came into the horrid retail store almost every day asked if I was new. I had been there for a year and six months and no one remembered me.

I have one of those generic faces, I guess. There really is nothing special about it. I have brown hair and brown eyes and big lips. Not Angelia Jolie big, but pretty big if I didn’t contain them. I didn’t really put on a lot of makeup either. When I tried, it just didn’t come out right. I always wondered how other girls that I would pass on the sidewalk always looked perfect. Their hair didn’t fall in front of their face and it was always straight or bumped up in a really cute messy bun.

I didn’t want to tell anyone that because I felt pathetic. In the big picture, my life wasn’t so bad. I had the opportunity to go to college and I was lucky enough to have a job, so I never said anything to anyone. I never wanted anyone to know that I hated my life – everything about it. There was no silver lining that I looked forward to. You know why? Because my future consisted of that suck-ass retail store and a college degree that I could do nothing with. I stayed quiet though. I didn’t even think about it actually. I couldn’t admit it to myself that I given up hope. I was lying to myself saying that I believed that things got better. How could they? I watched my mother work every day, nine hours a day, just so she be broke at the end of the month. Things never got better.

Spring semester of my sophomore year was a big disaster. I took principals of biology one and it was terrible. I couldn’t understand it no matter how hard I tried. I would spend all night in the library reading that damn book and still failed the tests. I barely passed the class. That semester, my roommate got a boyfriend who she sucked faces with all the freaking time. I wanted to leave, but there was nowhere else to go. So I went to the lobby! The lobby of my building was pretty mundane. People just played ping pong all the time. And I hated ping pong. One, because I sucked at it. Two, it is just a boring game.

My roommate and suitemates set the fire alarm off. Luckily, I was not in the room. I had taken my laptop and books to the library to study for finals. Unfortunately for them, their TVs were ruined, their mini fridge shorted out, and they got expelled for the university. All of this went down two days before the end of the semester. Also, I had to pay a fee for my dresser being ruined.

That summer? I worked again. I worked nine hours almost every day. I didn’t mind it, it wasn’t like I had friends to hang out with anymore. They all had new friends. But I couldn’t complain, because I could have tried harder to maintain those relationships or to make new relationships. This was my bed. I was friendless and still had this measly retail job that I swore I would quit after I started college. I hated myself because I was a liar. I lied to myself, to my family, and to my ex friends. I had told them all this things I was going to do and how great my life was going to be, but there I was…right where I started.

Junior year, my roommate was a straight up bitch. She yelled at me for my alarm going off in the morning. Then she complained about how dirty bathroom was and wouldn’t stop unless I cleaned it, which was not often because it was not my fault. She was from a very rich family who apparently had servants – I never asked because I really didn’t want to hear her shrill voice. My suitemates stayed in their room the entire time. They seemed cool though. I went in there one time to hide from my roommate and slept on their carpet.

I turned twenty one in October and I bought me a case of strawberry margaritas. I drove down a dirt road next to my nasty retail job until I reached Shaw Bridge. The bridge was old and out of use. They had built a better bride a couple of miles up the creek for regular traffic. Now, the middle of the bridge had rotted out and the only traffic it saw was from possums and raccoons. I sat down on the edge so I could dangle my legs off. The day had been cloudy so I dressed warm – an oversized sweater – which turned out to be a mistake because it was humid. I did have my favorite pair of boots on, because it was my birthday and I wanted to be comfortable so I could share it with nobody. Also, I was wearing black tights so my legs looked nice, long, and skinny, which made up for the loneliness and the humidity.

“Happy birthday to me!” I yelled at the moon, which was peeking out behind the clouds and took another swing of my drink.

My phone vibrated but it was just Facebook telling me that someone that I barely knew wrote on my wall. I threw the empty bottle in the creek and opened up another. I have never really drank before and this was probably a bad idea. Part of my brain was telling me that too. But the other half was just yelling “Screw it!” It was telling me that we tried too hard and we are in the same spot we were in two years ago so what was the point.

I raised my glass to the moon, “Here is to Caleb and his remarkable fiancé that works at an animal shelter! Even though I applied there at least seven times.”

“Happy birthday.”

I whirled around to see who was behind me. It was Caleb.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked stunned.

He sat down next to me, “I just had a feeling and also had a feeling that you could need a friend.”

I sat my drink down, “So you just decided to come down here?”

“Hey, I am always there for a friend,” he smiled. “I know I haven’t really been there for you as a friend like I said I would before we started college.”

“That was a really douche bag move,” I muttered.

He chuckled and looked at me. His blue eyes were sparkling in the moonlight, “I am truly sorry. I just didn’t know what to do or…or if you felt the same way I did.”

“What?” I almost dropped my drink into the creek. “What are you saying?”

“I liked you then, Hadley. And…I think I might still like you.”

I looked down at the muddy creek and then back up, but he was gone. I looked around and I was totally alone. I stared down at my fourth bottle.

“I really think it’s time to go,” I muttered. Instead of getting up though, I sat there and started crying. Not just like silent tears, but big sobs. I had done everything I thought I needed to do to get a better life. And where was I? Driving a ’95 Dodge truck with the paint peeling off and the brakes squealed, working at a life-sucking job, and totally alone.

I took my back pack off – I’m not really sure why it was on – and placed the remaining two bottles of alcohol in it. Mulling over the reason I had my backpack on, I sat there for another thirty minutes…ten minutes…an hour maybe – there was passing of time was all I knew. I grabbed the railing and pulled myself up, but my foot slipped of the bridge. Sober, I didn’t have great reflexes and being drunk I was basically a rag doll. I fell into the muddy creek below.