what sandra thinks

Dear Diary,

After I left the party last night, I locked myself in my room and scribbled every word I wrote so quickly… so anxiously and aggressively… that I think I actually hurt my hand. I was upset. Beyond upset. Fucking Hannah. I couldn’t get the image of her falling onto Ethan out of my head. And the Dylan thing… God, if Ethan saw that, did it push him even closer to Hannah? What if he thinks there’s something between Dylan and me? What if he got sucked in by Hannah and did God knows what with her? It was enough to make me sick.

Or maybe that was the tequila. I kind of wished I’d had more so I could pass out despite the party noise. But I didn’t need it… because there was a knock on my door. I had a moment of panic. I still don’t know why. Who was I expecting? Hannah? Ethan??

It was Jules. She saw Hannah with Ethan, too… then she watched me leave. She was worried about me… so she came to find me. I told her I was fine which was ridiculous because she knew I wasn’t. We talked for a little while before another knock at my door interrupted. I had another moment of panic but Jules already knew who it was.

Randy walked in and invited us to his room to smoke some ‘pain killer’. I swear… he has more nicknames for pot than anyone I know. Anyway… we went with him. Way better than tequila.

Once I was sufficiently altered, I finally had the courage to ask Randy if he saw Ethan downstairs. And he did. ‘Yeah… I saw him with the toxic bitch.’ His name for Hannah, of course. I begged him not to tell me Ethan left with her. But I didn’t have to beg. Randy saw Hannah leave with a couple of guys… neither one was Ethan.

Thank God.

And thank God for Randy and Jules. They made me laugh. And they distracted me. Especially Randy who tried to get me to like his favorite rap song. That wasn’t gonna happen… but he was pretty funny trying.

Eventually, he gave up… and told me I was hopeless. I agreed, but not for the reasons he thought.

Then I leaned back on Randy’s beanbag chair and fell asleep.

• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.

©2018 what sandra thinks

Dear Diary,

I fought with myself for at least an hour before I finally sucked it up and went to the Woodman party. How could I not? I knew everyone would be there… and it was happening two floors below me. The whole building would be shaking. I would have felt like I was there even if I never left my room.

I put on my sexy top, as Jules calls it… the one that she says ‘brings my boobs to life’… and I descended the stairs into beer-fueled chaos. I grabbed my obligatory red Solo cup and poured myself some ginger ale so people would stop asking me if I wanted beer. I ran into some friends by the very enthusiastic beer pong game… and we watched. I was particularly entertained since Randy was playing… and not doing well.

Despite my mood (which sucked… and still sucks), the party wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.

But after a couple of hours roaming around the party talking to friends and dodging beer spills, I was sick of the smell of beer. I wanted to leave. But Jules found me and wouldn’t let me go. She even convinced me to do a tequila shot with her. But I stopped after only one because tequila and I don’t always get along. Besides, it was right about then that my mission to avoid Hannah met failure.

There she was… in her element… surrounded by boys… trying to make sure they were all focused on her. I almost lost my tequila. The only thing worse would be seeing Ethan with her. Then, that’s exactly what happened. He was there… with the same guys Hannah invited to be ‘her guests’ for the night.

I tried to hide behind other people while I watched. Why do I torment myself? I’m a masochist.

Hannah threw her arm around one guy after another… laughing her fake laugh… rubbing up against them. It was just… gross. I had to look away. But before I did, Ethan saw me.

Yes, our eyes met across a crowded room. No, not in the sappy romantic kind of way. It felt more like I got caught in the act… of… something. But Ethan just smiled… his way of saying ‘hi’ without abandoning his friends, I guess. My expression barely made it to a smile before Hannah broke our line of sight by pretending to stumble into Ethan’s arms. Of course he caught her. What else could he do? Let her fall? That would have been fucking awesome. But no. He caught her. I don’t know what the hell happened next. I couldn’t watch. I had to get the hell out of there.

Of course, that was not to be either. As soon as I turned to go, I walked right into Dylan.

He laughed… which made me laugh. Then he threw an arm around me and gave me a little squeeze and a kiss on my cheek before following his friends to the keg. I hope Hannah saw that. And I wonder if Ethan saw it.

And if he did, was that good or bad?

• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.

©2018 what sandra thinks

Dear Diary,

Chemistry was awkward this morning. For me. It was the first time I’d seen Ethan since the Dylan ‘incident’. But it wasn’t just that. It was Hannah and the party and… just… all of it.

I knew I wasn’t myself and Ethan could tell. Of course, I couldn’t say anything. How the hell could I possibly explain that I was afraid I was losing him when I never had him in the first place? I’m too invested in a relationship that probably only exists in my head.

I know… I really need to stop assuming things. Maybe he is invested. I mean… the infirmary… and the library… and the doodles. And today… when I know I was acting weird… he noticed. Next to the cute worried face he drew in his notebook, he expressed genuine concern. ‘You ok?’

I kind of lied when I gave him a half-assed smile and nodded. And I think he knew I wasn’t really okay.

He definitely cares. We’re friends. But I really don’t know if I’m capable of making the first move. But maybe it’s not the first move. Maybe he already did that… at the infirmary… or the library… or every time he draws cute little pictures in class.

I don’t know what to do. And that’s my problem—not knowing what to do—because I will end up doing nothing. Except watch Hannah throw herself at him at the party tomorrow night. But I shouldn’t let her keep me from going to the biggest party of the year. Besides… I’m sure Dylan will be there. And he’ll flirt with me because that’s what he does.

I should make sure Hannah sees me with him. He’s one conquest that’s always eluded her.

• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.

©2018 what sandra thinks

Dear Diary,

I need to quit thinking about Ethan so much. That’s what I keep telling myself. I don’t think it’ll work… but I hate that I’m getting so upset over him. I have to stop. And last night I tried… with a little help from Jules and Randy…

They showed up at my door with a case of beer. I asked them if they were planning on drinking all that beer themselves. Of course they weren’t. They offered to share even though they both know I hate beer. But I was determined to get Ethan out of my head… at least for a while… so I took one anyway. I managed to drink it without gagging. And then I had another.

I knew it was a bad idea to drown my thoughts in disgusting beer, but I did it anyway. Hell, about three beers in, I didn’t even care how gross it tasted anymore. I knew I’d regret it, but in the moment, I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to laugh with my friends and forget all about Ethan. And Hannah. Especially Hannah.

Then the most powerful distraction showed up. His name is Dylan… a friend of Randy’s… who is really hot… totally out of my reach… and definitely not my type. He’s kind of the male Hannah. Not in the attention-seeking way. He doesn’t have to try for that… girls fall all over him. No, he’s like Hannah in the other way. His… um… interactions… with girls are short-lived. He might as well have a revolving door on his dorm room.

Of course, by the time Dylan showed up, I was drunk. Jules and Randy were… less drunk. I think. And I have no idea what state Dylan was in because I was so fucked up. Maybe that’s why Dylan sat so close to me on my bed. Maybe that’s why he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. And maybe that’s why Randy and Jules quietly slipped out of my room and left me alone with my distraction.

Of course, being me, despite all the disgusting beer I had consumed, my brain was still screaming at me. ‘Don’t do this!’

But I did.

But only a little.

We just kissed. A lot. I’m sure he would have taken it much farther… like, clothes-in-a-pile-on-the-floor farther… but I couldn’t do it. I thought he might be a dick about it but he was really cool. And that made me realize that I really don’t know what’s going on in other people’s heads.

And I should stop thinking I do.

• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.

©2018 what sandra thinks