Page 19 of Breakaway Goal

We’re all holding back titters at their awkwardness over being discovered. I don’t know if they’re trying to keep whatever’s going on between them a secret or if they’re just feeling flustered about unexpectedly being spotted together for the first time.

Either way, it’s amusing to witness.

Cindy excuses herself, and Kazu takes our orders. When we clamber into our normal circular booth at the front of the store, Hudson and Tuck immediately whip out their phones to send the latest update in the Cindy/Kazu saga to their girlfriends, who were just as into the will-they-won’t-they speculation last year.

I’m happy to see Lane more animated as he joins in on the conversation flying around the table. But now, I’m the one feeling a little out of it.

After seeing Cindy and Kazu as an apparent new couple, and then seeing Hudson and Tuck so eager to message the girls they’ve fallen for … fuck, I’m feeling envious.

I want that, too. Someone I can feel head over heels for. Someone who’s all mine. Someone who’s more than just a hookup or a short-term fling who I hold at arm’s length because I don’t want them to get too attached.

Someone who Iwantto get as attached as possible, because I want to be just as attached to them.

But there’s only one person in the whole fucking world I want that with. And she’s the one person I can’t have.

9

MADDIE

Ishouldn’t be cooped up alone in my dorm room on my second Friday night as a college sophomore.

Jasmine’s in Montreal, visiting a cousin of hers she’s close to who’s flying in and staying overnight for a conference at McGill University.

Spending a Friday night inside by myself usually isn’t something that bothers me. It certainly isn’t something I’m not used to. I can put on a movie, or binge-watch a show, or curl up with a book, or listen to some music, and I’ll be perfectly cozy and content.

But tonight there’s a restlessness simmering through me that keeps me from relaxing and getting into any of my usual solo activities.

A sharp blade of anxiety keeps poking me between the ribs, reminding me I’m doing exactly what I told myself I’d finally stop doing this semester: wasting another valuable Friday night of my college years sitting around alone, when I should be out experiencing life, making friends, maybe even flirting with a cute guy—heck, maybe even hooking up with one.

I try to tell myself I’m overreacting. Being too hard on myself like I’m prone to do. There are plenty of Friday nights left this semester, and I’ll naturally be getting out more since Jasmine’s going to be here for the rest of them and we’ll feel the pull to go out together.

But that rationalization doesn’t stop the restless feeling from tightening in my chest and making my limbs feel fidgety.

I push up from my bed so I can at least work off some of my restlessness by pacing up and down my dorm room.

Maybe I can at least go out and take a walk? Maybe go to Last Word since it’s open late. Maybe getting a tea and sitting in a busy coffee shop reading a book will feel better than hiding away in my dorm room.

Or maybe I’ll just feel like a loser, being out alone on a Friday night while everyone else is with a date or a group of friends, probably silently judging me.

I shake my head and check that last feeling. No one’s going to be silently judging me for hanging out somewhere alone on a Friday night. No one’s going to even notice to care. But anxiety at the thought has already wormed its way in and is crawling through me in a way I can’t totally shake off.

Darn anxiety. It must be so nice to just …dothings, be able to go out and interact with people without constantly second-guessing everything you do like you’re a hyper-critical observer of your own interactions.

I go to the window and look out. A group of three girls walk down the pathway that passes the front of my dorm building, and the chime of their laughter passes the windowpane as they walk by.

This week, I overheard a bunch of students in my art classes talk about a traditional yearly party that most art students go to, being held tonight. It’s, like, not something you need an invitation to. People just show up.

Would it be so crazy for me to go alone?

Maybe it would be easier for me to meet people there than in my classes?

For a moment, a glimmer of impulse surges through me. I can do it, right? Put on a cute outfit, walk into the party with confidence, and … I don’t know, notice someone else who’s also randomly alone at the party and start talking to them and magically become friends?

Yeah, right.

I can’t even summon the courage to strike up a conversation with someone while I’m packing up after a class. Going to a party alone and somehow being able to have a good time? Please.

Disappointment gathers in my stomach and weighs it down.

---