It was different, it wasn't supposed to be like this, they were the ones who were supposed to get attached, not her. It came from out of nowhere, not suddenly, over a few days, but still when it started she didn't know from where.
"Come on," her friends said, "we're going out tonight."
To the place where the freshmen dwell, that terrible string of bars, into the chasm. They shaved and plucked and forced her to do these things, slinked themselves into skintight skirts and stilettos. And looking in the mirror she knew, even if she wasn't ready, that she looked good.
So she lied about being from Missouri. She lied about how long she'd been in town. She lied about her relationships. She danced what she could and when she didn't feel like it she sat down and her friends pulled her back on.
"Woo!" they said. "This night is about you!"
When someone leaves there is always a reason. She wanted to know, it didn't matter how mundane or morose, how hateful. It was there, she knew it, it was always there. Things like this are difficult but that's the choice you've made. She didn't tell him to go.
They were in line for food, Cory she thought his name was. He went on and on about his major or a friend's major or a friend's car or something. She thought about her bed, how big it was, how empty, how emptier it would feel with her in it. And when she placed her order Cory or Cameron or whoever gave her a look and laughed, said she didn't need all that. She laughed at him harder.
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