The Fallout

Things weren't looking so good for me and Round.

We were in a relationship, according to facebook, but we never referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. While it seemed like we were an incredible match at first, it had been fading. He kept ignoring me when we hung out with other people, and he was condescending to me about music, the ONE subject in the world that I think I know better than anything else. (Call me conceited -- I don't care. I have a musical talent that very few people in the world have, and I won't allow anybody to cross me on that. And he did.)

And over the past week, I had hooked up with two different guys. There was the platonic sleepover with the iconic Dr. McDreamy, which ended up being the sexiest experience of my life. And then there was the full-out sex with Jesus Iscariot, Model Catholic and the administration's pride and joy. Not to mention my final chorus hookup.

At first, I wasn't going to end things with Round -- it seemed pointless to end something so close to the end of the school year, and I needed him to be my date to the senior dance. I wasn't planning to go to the senior dance -- I had heard that it was perennially the worst event of senior week, and what was the point if I didn't have a date?

But after sleeping with Jesus, I knew I had to take off the "in a relationship" status on facebook. After all, the two of them knew each other well! I wouldn't go so far to say that they were friends, but they were definitely acquaintances and both RAs (though, thankfully, in dorms on opposite sides of the quad). And I couldn't just do that without telling Round!

So when he dropped by the next afternoon, after the senior brunch and before the senior casino night (which was the one senior event I had decided not to go to, since I'm not into gambling and didn't want to spend the money), I knew I had to end it.

Round was in the area because he was visiting his friends, a Brazilian and a Croatian, in one of the international apartments downstairs. I called him, and he came upstairs. The TV was on Food Network, as always. The apartment was down to just me and my beloved roommate, College Roomie (I have to give her a name, since I've been mentioning her a lot), and she was out, so it was just us. I invited him to sit on one of the couches -- technically, and quite ironically, a loveseat.

"Listen," I began. I was nervous. "I've been thinking....since it's the end of the year and all....can we 'singlify' ourselves? On facebook? It's just weird...." I trailed off, wishing he would take the bait and join in.

For a moment, he looked blankly at my chartreuse suede ottoman in front of him. His wavy black hair was messy, as if he'd just woken up (which was likely; we had spent many nights staying up until 8 AM and sleeping until 2 or so) and his dark eyes were open, his eyebrows slightly raised in surprise and disappointment. At that moment, I felt genuinely awful. As dysfunctional a relationship as we had, he didn't deserve for me to cheat on him -- twice. Looking at this from a distance, I would historically be seen as the one at greater fault.

"Well...." he began. "I guess I can see what you mean."

"I still want you to go to the dance with me," I added quickly. "And we can, you know, boink whenever the urge arises." That was one of his favorite words to say, as well as what we always called it, and he smiled. "I like you," I said, putting my hand on his arm and smiling. Why was he getting cuter and cuter as this went on? "I just think it's weird that we're in a relationship on facebook, you know?" It didn't feel like a relationship at all. Especially when I was hooking up with McDreamy and Jesus I.

I don't remember much of what happened after that. But before he left a little while later, we put our arms around each other and kissed and smiled. I felt so relieved. And for that moment, it seemed like I could get away with everything, tie it up in a little box, and forget about it.

The next day was the senior picnic, otherwise known as the perennially the best event of senior week, with every sport imaginable, competitions galor, and an open bar that everyone rightfully abused all day. I was taking pictures all day and actually have one of myself and Jesus! That was the end of the day, when he was probably as drunk as me. In the picture, our smiles can be interpreted as "knowing" or possibly "tongue-in-cheek" by the bystander who knew the whole story, but I honestly didn't see him like that. This was no longer Jesus-who-I-had-a-LOT-of-sex-with-after-senior-pub-night, this was the same old Jesus-the-chorus-acquaintance-who-I-only-talked-to-while-drunk character.

The day ended with me passing out on the bus and getting home and deciding to make fettucine alfredo. I made it with lemon at the suggestion of Giada from Food Network, and it was so good, I wanted to cry.

The dance was the next day. Round and I hadn't spent any nights together -- like before, it just seemed like neither of us really wanted to -- but I was looking forward to the dance. I hadn't had a date to a dance since my junior prom!! (Whoa. Just realized that.)

The buses were scheduled to depart at 6:30. I wore a gorgeous black gown with silver stones that I borrowed from my sister. I got together with my group of 10 friends or so, waiting for everyone's dates. Buses would leave as they were full, departing for a venue an hour and fifteen minutes away. Little by little, everyone and their dates arrived.

No Round.

We kept waiting. Everyone began to grow impatient, even level-headed College Roomie, who was the one person in my group who had come without a date. I called Round. Thankfully, he picked up.

"Hey, where are you?" I asked him. "Buses started leaving at 6:30."

"I'm coming," he replied, sounding agitated. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Relax."

"I just thought I'd check," I told him.

"I'll be there in a minute. Geez."

"Jackass," I muttered after hanging up.

"Where is he?" College Roomie asked.

"He's being a dick," I replied. "He'll be here in a few."

Ten minutes passed. I called him again.

"I just left the dorm," he told me upon answering the phone.

"Okay, good," I replied and hung up. His dorm was probably a four-minute walk away.

Much longer than four minutes later, he finally showed up. With his average looks, my opinion of his attractiveness fluctuated with my mood. And he showed up with wet hair, in black pants with a royal blue button-down shirt (made of cotton, not anything remotely dressy) and a silver tie. The blue was a great color for him, but I just got mad at seeing him dressed like that. He often dressed up, so I knew that he easily could have done better.

"Hey," I said, seeing him. "Let's get on a bus."

We boarded the next bus, to my friends' relief. We were the last two people on, and there were only two empty seats left, one in the front and one in the back.

The one in the back was in next to an enemy of mine from freshman year, a guy with whom I had traded vicious barbs and had avoided ever since.

The one in the front was next to Jesus.

Well.

"Please, please, please go in the back," I hissed to Round. "I can't sit with that guy. He made my life miserable freshman year. I can't be next to him for more than an hour."

"All right," he grumbled exasperatedly.

Phew. I sat down next to Jesus.

And again, this wasn't Jesus with whom I had hooked up. I didn't see him that way. This was just the same Jesus as always, Jesus the acquaintance who wouldn't overtly choose to sit with me on a bus, but who wouldn't mind if I sat with him out of necessity.

Jesus and I only talked on occasion throughout the ride, choosing instead to watch Sixteen Candles on the screen. (Like most of the guys on the bus, I had voted for Jackass instead. But the overwhelming female population won out. Personally, I think Jesus wanted Sixteen Candles.) I texted Round once, and he didn't reply.

The traffic was unbearable, and it actually took us closer to two hours to get to the venue, a casino. The bad timing, combined with Round's lateness, would give us only a few hours at the dance before having to leave.

We got out of the bus and walked inside as a group, me and Round and about a dozen of my friends. The casino was beautiful. Since the dance had begun a while ago, we grabbed a table and went to get drinks, then food. (I got a martini. I thought it looked classy with my gown, and it was the best value for my money, but it tasted godawful until I got sufficiently drunk.)

Round, who had plenty of senior friends, was talking with a group of them as we began eating. My friends and I took pictures of the group, as well as each of the couples. Dateless College Roomie and I took a few pictures together. Finally, Round came back and ate his meal of food. We barely talked. We did take a picture together. Since he always made goofy faces in pictures, I asked him to smile nicely. Later that night, when reviewing my pictures, I realized that he only halfway obliged.

He leaned in to be heard over the music. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I replied.

"Let's go outside."

He led me out to the lobby. The guidos were all out there, drinking gin & tonics and smoking cigars. My stomach was churning. Round had said that in an unusual tone of voice, quiet and controlled, but almost with an undertone of amusement.

He turned around by a wall on the side. "Um, I know about Jesus."

Shit.

"Look, you didn't break my heart, and I'm fine, and I'm gonna go be with my friends, okay?"

"Okay," I replied. I was trembling. I kept a neutral expression on my face as my heart beat rapidly in my chest.

"Okay." He turned and walked back into the ballroom through the nearest door. Who had told him? I did tell a bunch of people, but only a few chorus members who knew about my goal. There was my main gay, College Roomie, Princess, and another chorus friend named Flower. Flower was an RA along with Round and Jesus, but I doubted that she -- or anybody -- would tell him directly. It probably worked its way through the grapevine of gossip. I marched through the door by my table and immediately found Princess.

"Round found out about Jesus," I told her.

"Oh, honey," she replied sympathetically.

And then I saw him walk by.

Dr. McDreamy.

And everything was perfect again.

Fuck Round! He didn't know that he had given me the greatest gift of all -- single status. I had so many options at this dance now. I could dance with anyone, hook up with anyone, and not have to worry about him finding out or even being alone. I went alone to my senior prom, and I absolutely loved the freedom that came with it.

McDreamy waved to me. I walked over and he gave me a hug. He looked awesome in a steel-colored suit, black shirt and silver tie. Matching me perfectly.

"I didn't think you were coming!" I exclaimed. He hadn't come to most of the senior week activities.

"Hey, there were plenty of tickets left. You look awesome, by the way."

"Thanks. So do you!" At that moment, Hips Don't Lie began playing. Everybody ran onto the dance floor.

"Come on, let's dance!" I cried, grabbing McDreamy and our mutual good friend, a girl who I'll call GirlyEngineer, one of the few females majoring in engineering. GirlyEngineer had only become a friend of mine that spring, but we had so many mutual friends who were juniors that we had spent a lot of time together, and we had bonded instantly.

The three of us danced, and as soon as the song was over, the dance floor emptied. Over the course of the night, I hung out with different groups of people, as I usually did. I told Flower what had happened. Flower had been instrumental in my romance with Round. She told me that he was crazy about girls who wore a certain designer perfume. Back when Round and I first got together, she once sprayed me with the perfume before I went over to see him. He went crazy, as she predicted, then figured out that she must have had something to do with it.

Flower's attitude was, "Fuck him. This is senior week. Have fun."

I agreed. "You don't know how much I want to hook up with McDreamy again."

"You should!" she cried. "You are Samantha Jones, the one girl to hook up with every voice part!"

"Yes, I am," I said, laughing.

Most of the night, I spent time with Flower or GirlyEngineer, and sometimes with both of them and McDreamy. I have so many good pictures from that night. It was fun being with my friends, but the dance lived up to its lukewarm reputation. The lines at the bars were unbearably long -- try an hour or more of waiting for a single drink, since you could only get one at a time -- and the committee hadn't planned for traffic, thus shortening the night to only a few hours.

I had just snuck into the middle of the drink line and gotten a glass of wine when I saw a scene that made my blood run cold.

Round and McDreamy.

Talking.

They definitely didn't know each other -- at least they hadn't the night that McDreamy and I had had our platonic sleepover.

McDreamy nodded. Then they reached out and shook hands. Round turned and walked out of the room.

No.

No.

Not McDreamy. This couldn't be happening.

I ran past the cigar-smoking guidos to the bathroom, where I sat on a closed toilet and leaned over, breathing between my knees. Fucking Round. There's no reason he would talk to McDreamy -- and definitely no reason why they would shake hands -- other than telling him what I had done.

I couldn't be sure.

I doubted any of my friends would have told Round about McDreamy, but maybe they had told their own friends and it had spread. Oh, Jesus! Not that Jesus. The real Jesus. How could I have opened my big mouth? When was I going to learn from this?

Well, I wasn't sure that McDreamy knew.

Shit.

It was time to leave by the time I left the bathroom. I got onto a bus with GirlyEngineer, and lo and behold, McDreamy got on the same bus and sat next to me. With that, everything I had seen flew out of my head. McDreamy was sitting with me. I could feel myself grinning wildly on the inside, but I kept it down to just a faint smile on my lips. Everyone would look and see that of all the people to sit with, McDreamy had chosen me. And the bus wasn't even close to being full.

The drive home was much shorter than the drive to the casino. McDreamy and I chatted with each other and with GirlyEngineer, and before we knew it, we were home. McDreamy then invited me and GirlyEngineer up to his house for an after-party, and we accepted.

After a frighteningly fast ride in his car, we were back at the house where I had spent the night with him just days before. GirlyEngineer and I were the only girls there, and most of the guys there hadn't gone to the dance. The next few hours featured nothing out of the ordinary. GirlyEngineer and I played a few awesome games of Beirut; the guys dared me to drink a cup of corn whiskey straight out of the jar it came in (don't do that, ever; it's vile); GirlyEngineer left to make out with one of McDreamy's friends for awhile, then came back. Cartel, McDreamy's crazy Colombian housemate, kept yelling, "OOOOH SIIIIIIIIX!" in his thick accent.

All along, I watched McDreamy. I wanted to hook up with him. And I was going to stay there until I succeeded.

Time passed. McDreamy was paying me no special attention. Neither were any of the other guys. I stayed. I kept playing. I grew desperate. It wasn't until around 5:00 AM or so that I realized that I had seen what I thought I saw. Round must have told McDreamy everything.

I was about to leave, but then the guys announced they were going to smoke. I wanted to stay for that. We smoked for awhile in the basement, and that was good weed -- I instantly felt pretty high. We then went up to the bedroom where I had spent that night and watched a video about Scientology, one of those videos that are absolutely enthralling when you're stoned.

I decided to leave after that, conceding my defeat. I was feeling a bit woozy, so I sat down on the couch downstairs. Cartel, the crazy Colombian who had skinny-dipped and played those stripping games with me and McDreamy the other night, sat down next to me. He touched my cheek. I kept looking ahead, still stoned out of my mind.

"You are going?" he asked me.

"Yeah. I gotta get back."

"Your eyes...." I turned and looked at him. "You look at me....like a cat."

I wanted to laugh, but I just weakly smiled.

Then Cartel leaned in for the kill. He got up and leaned over sideways, meeting his lips with mine. I froze in place. He kissed me roughly, his tongue pushing in violently.

I lifted my arms to push him back. He didn't get the message and kissed me harder. Cartel was good-looking, and a final college hookup would have been nice, but I just couldn't do it. In addition to not being McDreamy, Cartel bragged about his sexual prowess on facebook, claiming that he loved nothing more than pleasing a girl sexually. I gave him a shove. That got him off me. For all that action, the kiss didn't last longer than two seconds.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I told him.

"Okay then, if you say so," he said with a shrug.

"I'm going to go," I said, getting up.

"You'll be okay?"

"I always walk back after I smoke."

"Okay. Goodnight."

As I walked off McDreamy's porch, I felt like crying. Here was my last chance, and it was gone.

I wasn't having the best high. It was light out, and I felt as if I were being followed. At every rustling noise behind me, I turned around, expecting to see somebody. I decided to flag down the next car I saw and beg them for a ride.

I did that, and luckily it was a guy I knew from both high school and college. He had been at McDreamy's party as well. He gave me a ride and I collapsed into bed.

I graduated 30 hours later.

I watched Jesus Iscariot accept the most prestigious award the school gave out.

Cartel left shortly after the ceremony, and was the first goodbye.

Round left me a voicemail asking me to come over, but I never knew if it was an old message.

I don't remember the last time I saw McDreamy. He's in medical school now.

I haven't had sex since Jesus Iscariot. That was over four months ago.

I've thought about the Round-McDreamy-Jesus catastrophe every single day since it happened.

I'm afraid that now that I've cheated, I'll always have a propensity to cheat in the future.

I'm curious as to how long I'll go without sex.

I have absolutely ZERO regrets. I've cheated three times in my life (yes, another time before this, too) and each one has brought be something extraordinary. It's awful, but I'm mostly concerned about not being able to keep my mouth shut about the whole thing.

But I'm learning.

I've kept this blog a complete secret, and I intend to continue to do so.

Would anything have happened with McDreamy if he hadn't found out? I have no idea.

He's already given me the best gift of all -- the sexiest night of my life.