The next hour was literal torture. Peter saying he was going to show last week to just “forget” was one thing, but it was nothing compared to this. Cat’s heartbeat never left her ears; she’d never shaken so bad in her life, not from cold, not from fear. Her stomach hurt so badly that she seriously considered asking Professor Harlem for extra time, just to gather herself. But now she stood at the podium with her cue cards and revised notes, trembling, staring into the crowd of students. Her saliva tasted rusty. God, she was going to throw up.
Somehow, Cat managed to get through her opening statements without puking on the audience. And her point. And introduce her evidence. The feeling didn’t dissipate at all during the debate. It was quite possibly the worst thirteen minutes of her life, including the pain from after getting the staples removed from her head. Including any hangover she might have had. Menstrual cramps that she was told were comparable to labor pains and appendicitis? Child’s play.
Peter showed no sign of nerves. He was cool, collected, scientific. How did he do that? How could he act so cool about a class he didn’t even care about? And worst of all, she could tell, even through sweating pure anxiety, that he was winning the debate. Easily.
She stood up there for her closing remarks. Most people looked at their phones or doodled on spare paper while she rattled on about something she really didn’t care about. She looked over to Peter, who sat on the side of the room, just watching passively, and her mind couldn’t process what was happening. He sat there with his arms crossed, not looking upset, or even like he was paying attention, and her stupid brain might as well have just shut off, because now she could only picture him in the hottub that night, in his black swimshorts, surrounded by the steaming and bubbling water, illuminated only by the decorative, color-changing lights they all sat around.
When they’d finished their presentation, the class applauded respectfully, and Professor Harlem dismissed them to their seats. Cat was hardly aware of what the woman said. She heard some words like “vast improvement” and “proud,” which would have normally sent her into a euphoric high for several days, but the words couldn’t even do anything other than bounce off of her.
Other students performed other makeup presentations, Professor Harlem went over the details to the final test for Wednesday night, and during that whole half hour of calm nothingness, Cat still quivered in her seat.
Class somehow got dismissed while Cat sat and stared at her desk. She glanced up with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide, glancing around like a frightened bird before she finally got the cue to gather her things and leave.
“Are you okay?” Peter sounded amused as she shoved through the door. Okay? Was she okay--was that a joke? Did he realize that he just shook her entire understanding of herself with one stupid secret she should have known about at the beginning of all this? And combined with the pressure of the most important presentation of her life, where she could have very likely had a heart attack and died right in front of the class? She twisted around to face him, her hands clutching the strap of her bag.
“Am--I--you--are--I--and--” Her words didn’t come out in order, and some didn’t even show up at all in her what she tried to say. And now that she got her mouth to say any words at all, the ones she thought might make it out of her brain just sizzled to a useless silence. Peter raised a brow at her. In a moment of frustration, all she managed to sound was, “Blaaaah!” In her defense, it perfectly articulated what she felt.
But Peter burst into laughter, her cheeks burned so hot she almost forgot she was cold, and the humiliation propelled her legs to run to her dorm. No dinner for her. Nothing in her stomach was staying down.
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For the duration of dinnertime, Cat sat in her pajamas on her bed, rolled in her comforter like a perfect burrito, and sat with her pillow on top of her head in the dark. Did she maybe look crazy? Yes. Did she feel crazy? Also yes. But leaning against the corner of the wall, covered in warmth like she was seemed to be the only thing to stop her from shivering and spontaneously combusting.
At least as she sat there in the silence, she could finally hear her own thoughts. Her stomach released its knots very slowly as she walked through everything Peter said, as she began to reflect on the beginning of the year.
And in the hour and a half it took Hannah to get home, she didn’t get very far. To be fair, even if she did get anywhere at all, Hannah flicking on the light and screaming at the top of her lungs would have made any thoughts go out the window.
“What the hell, Hannah!” Cat screeched when her roommate recoiled at her.
“WHAT THE FUCK, CAT?” Hannah panted and clutched her heart like an old lady seeing a ghost, staring at her. “What the fuck are you doing? Sitting there like a serial killer? Like a bat?” As Hannah stared at her, her expression got more confused. “Like a--like a pig in a blanket bat? In the dark?”
“I was cold,” Cat murmured. She adjusted herself so that her pillow fell from her head and onto her lap. “I wasn’t feeling well.” As she said this, Hannah let out a heavy sigh and started to laugh to herself.
“Jesus Christ, why in the dark?” As she shrugged off her fluffy coat and slipped out of her boots, Cat slowly wormed herself out of her comforter burrito to free her hands.
“I don’t know. I just ended up that way.”
Hannah stared at her, out of breath, though amused.
“Peter said you guys had your debate today. He said you did really well, though--just that you were too nervous for dinner.”
“Yeah,” Cat said, nodding. A lot of it had to do with nerves. Nerves from presenting, from the pressure of this debate...and from Peter’s stupid lie form earlier in the year. It changed everything. Kind of. At least sitting here by herself helped make everything settle: her stomach, her racing, anxious thoughts….
“But it’s over! And now you’re done with it. Do you have a final for communications?” Hannah’s words almost flew over her head. What? Finals? Right.
“Yeah,” Cat said absent-mindedly.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
“No, I’m done for the year.”
“That’s awesome! About time you got a break and get to sleep in on a weekend!” Hannah was so enthusiastic about this, but Cat was still so far inside her head, it was almost like her roomie spoke to her from outside.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Cat knew what she needed. She needed a reset. She needed to look at things differently, from a different perspective. Fresh. Hannah was finishing her spiel about how important it was to de-stress, and Cat couldn’t help but completely agree. This was all too much. She should not have been so freaked out that she was reduced to a puddle of nerves in her bed.
“You’re right,” Cat said through a sigh. “You doing anything tomorrow? Maybe we can do face masks and stuff.” Hannah gasped and twisted around.
“Yes. Do you want to go to a party tonight? Kelsey just got invited to one like an hour ago, and she said we should come along! Then we can all crash here, and spend all day tomorrow doing beauty stuff.”
“I’m kind of exhausted tonight,” Cat admitted sheepishly. Plus, she needed to sleep on everything she’d just learned. She didn’t want to end up knocking on Peter’s door at four in the morning, drunk, just to freak out and make everything worse. “But....” But a party would be a good, neutral place to see what sort of feelings she may have had or not had toward Peter. Somewhere he interacted with anyone but her, so he couldn’t mess with her head or torture her...or laugh at her...or judge her.
“But?” Hannah echoed expectantly.
“Do you want to go to one tomorrow?” Cat asked, her eyes drifting to her phone. “Apparently the water polo team is throwing one down the street a couple blocks.”
“Oh?” Hannah asked. “I thought Cam said something about him having a date that night.... I didn’t think it was to a party.” Hannah cocked her head to the side and brushed her fingers through her hair. “Are you his date?”
“I’m not,” Cat corrected. Though who was Cameron seeing that none of them knew? “Nate asked me....”
“Oooh, Nate! The one from your rescue mission!” Hannah recognized with a gasp. “I thought you were kind of done with him?” As her roommate began to freshen up for her outing tonight, Cat sighed to herself.
“Yeah, I’m not that into him...but I could use a party this weekend, with people that I know.”
“Well, you know most of the water polo guys, right?” Hannah approached her mirror on her closet door to start cleaning up the edges of her makeup.
“Like a third,” Cat said flatly. “But...yeah, do you want to go? If Cam’s got a date, I doubt he’d be around all that much, and I don’t really want to give Nate the idea that I’m into him....”
“Why don’t you say you’ll go as friends?” Hannah suggested, glancing over her shoulder. “Just say you’re not into dating right now or something. Friends works.”
“I told him I couldn’t go originally,” Cat said as her fingers gently picked up her phone. “But yeah. I guess...I could say ‘as friends’ and that should be good, right? He won’t get upset?” She already opened the text conversation with him. His sad emoji blinked at her from her rejection.
“If he’s not okay with it, avoid him at all costs,” Hannah said. “But like, just let him know where you’re at. Shouldn’t be a big deal, I mean--it’s not like you’re leading him on that way or anything.”
“Yeah,” Cat said, nodding to her. “You’re right.” Especially because her purpose for going to the party wasn’t exactly to hang out with Nate. Her attention to him would be divided at best. With this thought in mind, she began her draft to Nate. Hey, turns out I don’t work Sunday after all, she started. Want to hang out at the party tomorrow? That sounded neutral, right?
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Spending the day with Kelsey and Hannah was nothing short of glorious. Kelsey stopped by the store to pick up face masks, hair masks, snacks, lotions and scrubs of all kinds. Apparently, hungover Kelsey shopped very well.
To help keep her mind off of everything, Cat messaged Pumpkin when she awoke. Might as well get the best start to the day.
De-stressing before finals? he asked when she told him what she was up to. Nice. Allow me to help!
Cat laughed at her phone. How are you going to help me?
My roommate was trying to cheer me up a little bit ago; I have some funny gifs and videos he sent me. Hold on. And, from there came a slew of videos of news anchor bloopers and gifs of animals playing. It all honestly made her chest feel warm: a perfect complement to her plans for the rest of the day.
“Pre-finals cleanse,” Kelsey sighed as she peeled off one of those charcoal face masks. She scrunched her face together from the pain, but pulled at it like a bandaid; Cat could hear the material stretch and tear at her skin. Hannah still searched for another sort of movie on her laptop while Cat soaked her hands in a bowl of water to give herself a manicure.
“I really needed this,” Cat said, smiling up to her friends. They still looked like they felt terrible, but it was only a matter of time before the gallons of moisturizer they applied to themselves soaked into their organs and made their hangovers go away.
“This was a great idea, Cat,” Hannah agreed. She clicked on some random romcom and set it aside so that they could all see the screen, though they probably wouldn’t watch much of it.
“Peter said you did really well on your presentation yesterday,” Kelsey said after she peeled the last bit of her face mask off. “Congrats! Sorry we missed you at dinner.”
“I was too nervous from presenting,” Cat said. She pulled her hands out of the water, onto a towel on her lap so she could start working on her nails. “But now that that’s done, I know I’ll be able to take all my classes next semester.”
“What are you taking?”
“The continuation of communications, ceramics, pre-calc, and some sort of multicultural English class. You?” Man, how did her cuticles get so high up her nails?
“Eeew, pre-calc,” Kelsey sounded.
“Yeah, I’m kind of nervous for it,” Cat admitted as she scraped away the dead skin. “But I did alright for every other class up until now.”
“Why are you taking pre-calc?” Kelsey sounded confused.
“I don’t know really what I want my major to be, so I’m just taking it just in case it’s a prerequisite for anything upcoming. Getting it all out of the way now so that I can take all the fun classes later.”
“Oh, that’s smart,” Hannah murmured absent-mindedly as she sorted through the different sets of face masks that Kelsey brought. She eventually settled for a clay mask that somehow “fizzled” when it was done.
“I hope so. I don’t know anything about pre-calc.” Cat sighed and grabbed an emery board from the Ulta bag in the center of the trio. “So neither of you want to come to this party with me...? Please?” Kelsey and Hannah flinched. It was early afternoon and they still periodically stopped to swallow vomit down. They must have gone pretty hard last night, so neither of them agreed to tag along. Cat didn’t wake up for them coming in this time, which was a relief. She had a harder time remembering her dreams when she got to sleep through the full night, and she did not want to even think about what her brain would do to her with her new information and so much less school to worry about.
Admittedly, Cat’s imagination kept returning to the dirty dream she had before. How much of that was from memory? Did he kiss her like that before? She couldn’t even get a twinge of familiarity from his words or Hannah’s...though Hannah was much more descriptive. If it was “so hard to separate them” then why did they? Why did she wake up next to Cam, fully clothed? There must have been more to the story. But who in the world could she even talk to about it? Hannah and Kelsey would just freak out--and Cat was not prepared to handle anything they could throw at her. She needed to have definite feelings, clear thoughts on everything, first.
Mostly how she actually felt. She doubted “I don’t know” would fly. It hardly worked for herself, and she was the one dealing with thoughts that had the consistency and clarity of muddy pond water. Then there was Peter’s reactions to her. He was no different from before and after the party, was he? She couldn’t even remember.
Cat had decided that it didn’t matter by the time Kelsey and Hannah led the way to the bathroom to do hair masks. Hannah’s party was nearly half a year ago. So much had changed since then, anyway. What mattered was the way that they behaved now. Now that she finally had all the same information Peter did, she would be able to judge everything better.
She’d know for sure tonight. She’d know at least how much kissing him mattered to her when she saw him, relaxed, refreshed, not a giant pile of nerves. And, if worse came to worst, it was the end of the school year. She had nearly two months to completely avoid everyone, if something happened.
She doubted anything would. But just in case something did….