It Could Happen
Lunch block B is symbolic of our ruin:
Henry has joined forces with the jocks. He is a jock, so it makes complete sense. And he seems happy enough, which is good. He hasn’t looked at me once since the last night he slept in my bed— tucked between Danny and me—the day before he refused the offer of my Jeep keys. Henry had no interest in taking the Jeep for a final joyride. I respect him for that.
Danny has taken to eating upstairs with the artsy crowd. For all I know, he has his eye on Mr. Lansing. Mr. Lansing is middle-aged, kind of cute, and likely even gay. He’s nuts about Danny, if not way too old for him, but that’s par for the course in Danny’s life. He’s better than most of Danny’s boyfriends who came before.
As for me, I eat alone. It’s okay. I’m a loner, really. It’s cool. And I write this without any bitterness, which is hard to believe,
but it’s also true. I’m returning to my natural state, after an almost four-year break. High school was a pleasant interlude of connection in a life I’m meant to spend without anyone to answer to.
LOL. “Pleasant interlude” makes pain sound so inviting. But it’s all good. I like being alone. Time to stop being so dramatic. There are so many important things I’ve long neglected to do.
I’m ready to get started.