September, 1987

Lindsay walked across the school parking lot, squinting in the bright sunlight. She got into her car and took her lunch out of her backpack and ate.

She hadn't spoken to Michael in a month. After that phone call the night he left she'd been too hurt to call him again, and she'd been relieved when he didn't call her either. But after a few days of that she'd started to feel annoyed. He'd promised to call her every day. She kept waiting for him to call her, wanting to make him be the first and thinking he would have to eventually, but now a month had gone by and he still hadn't. She'd heard her parents talking to him a few times, but apparently he never asked to talk to her.

It was so unfair, she'd only done it because she was drunk, didn't he realize that? And he'd kissed her back, he'd almost had sex with her, and now he was acting like she was the crazy one. How could he do this to her, just abandon her like this after everything that had happened in the last year? She thought about that night again. It had been replaying over and over in her mind for the last month, the thrill of him kissing her back, her initial fear and uncertainty and the moment it all melted away, and the flash of panic she'd felt when he'd pulled away from her. How she'd told him she loved him and all he'd said was that it was wrong.

The worst part was that as angry as she was, she still missed him like crazy. She felt so lonely. She wasn't very close to anyone else in her family and her social life was still in disrepair, especially since most of her friends had graduated now. She was slowly rebuilding her friendships with the ones that hadn't, but the shallow and competitive relationships she had with them did nothing to fill the hole left by Michael's absence. And as the weeks went by she felt less and less like socializing and had taken to eating lunch by herself in the car again.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she wished she hadn't stopped going to therapy, just so she would have someone to talk to. She'd convinced her father to stop making her go, telling him she didn't need it anymore and that it was interfering with school. But if she went back now everyone would think she was relapsing. It was hard, though. She'd always gone to Michael with her problems, but now she had no one.