Sasuke's POV
I did shit on my exams. I feel like I should care more than I do, but I mostly just expected it.
I spent most of spring break sleeping. I didn't feel like being awake. To be awake, you need to be aware. I didn't want to be aware, either. So, I slept. I slept and slept and slept. Even when I wasn't sleeping, I pretty much felt like I was. I was numb. I still am. It feels weird. Nothing feels quite real. I feel like I keep stepping outside of myself and then I glance back in and I'm like, "Right, this is my life."
I wish this wasn't my life. I wish I could go back to the start of the term. I wouldn't drink at all. I really screwed my life up. I feel like I had this coming. I wonder if people would agree. I know people think I'm cold and callous and stuck up.
I'm really spiralling downward. I never thought I'd fall this far. School used to be something I was good at. I liked to study. I knew what I wanted. Now I am not sure of anything. My marks are suffering hard. I barely passed, but I managed to scrape by.
My parents are going to lose their minds if I don't get my grades up by the end of the semester. I'm lucky that in college they don't do quarterly report cards like we had in high school—it gives me a little more time to figure things out. They'll ask for an update soon, but I might be able to weasel out of it if I say that my professors are slackers and evaluations aren't posted yet.
Speaking of, all of my professors are confused. They know I'm not giving them my best work but none of them know why. They keep offering for me to come by during office hours and talk but I just can't get myself to go. Instead I just keep not doing the work—not studying—not showing up to class.
I feel like such a fucking joke. It's upsetting. I can't even look at myself anymore.
I'm in my room now. I should be doing homework, but I'm not. I'm just sitting here doing nothing. I'm in a daze. I have assignments that need to get finished, but they will probably just sit there until the night before they are due. Then I'll half-ass them like I've been doing with all my assignments.
I lie down in my bed, grabbing my phone from my nightstand. I open it and read my text messages. I have a few from Karin, per usual. She keeps asking me if I'm okay, if I ate, if I went to class, if I fucking showered. She knows something is up, but she doesn't know what and I'm not about to tell her. I can't. I can't tell anyone. I'll fucking die.
Still, she keeps checking on me. I kind of wish she would leave me alone because I can tell she's starting to feel like she's close, which she's not. I guess I should consider myself lucky to have a friend who's so patient though.
I roll over, staring out the window. The weather is nice—in fact, it has been all break. I didn't go out much though. It's hard for me to leave my room unless it's for something absolutely necessary.
I'm still so scared I'm going to run into him—whoever he is.
Mostly I am spending time alone, but whenever I need to go somewhere I call Karin. I ask her if she wants to come with me. I play it off like I'm busy and I'm trying to turn my errands into social time. She seems to buy it, at least a little bit.
I'm trying not to be a shitty friend. I know I have been in the past. I don't want to be isolated – not now. I feel like if I am completely alone, everything will become worse. I know I don't actually talk to my friends, but I like to know that they are there at least.
I reply to Karin's text. She wants to know if I want to hang out and do homework together. I tell her I don't feel like going anywhere, but she can swing by my room if she wants. It's an empty offer, but knowing her she will accept it anyway. Maybe her presence will motivate me to actually do some work.
I set my phone beside me and roll over, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing my eyes. Fuck, I'm tired. Tired of everything.
About ten minutes later, there's a tap at my door. I have to drag myself out of bed to answer it. I changed back into my pajamas after class and probably look like shit, but I don't care.
Karin's standing in the hallway smiling. She looks happy to see me, and I feel guilty that I can't muster the same gusto. I'm lucky to have such good friends.
I let her in and she sets up on the floor, spreading her books out over my carpet. I grab my laptop and a notebook off my desk and sit down next to her.
"So," she starts, not missing a beat, "How are things?"
"Things are fine," I reply, trying to be nonchalant.
I grab my laptop and sit down with her.
"Yeah?" she pries, flipping open a textbook.
"Yeah," I say simply.
She drops it for now. "Wanna help me with statistics?"
I shrug. "I guess, but I thought you were all right with math?"
"No way," she insists. "I totally suck!"
I don't know if she is being honest. It might be an excuse. Maybe she is trying to distract me. I'll take it, I guess.
"All right..." I say. "We can do it together."
We're in the class together. Honestly, I just haven't been doing the assignments. I get it; I just can't make the effort. Maybe this will motivate me to hand something in. Finally.
"Great," Karin says, clapping her hands together.
So we do the math sheets. They're so easy I'm sure she gets it, nonetheless she asks me questions.
"How did you do on your midterms, by the way?" she asks when we are finished.
"Okay..." I shrug.
She rolls her eyes. "What did you get? Straight A's? You're too hard on yourself."
Ha... Hardly.
"I could have done…better," I admit half-heartedly.
Maybe if she thinks I'm just upset about my grades she'll finally let all this weird behavior slide.
"Wait you're being serious?" Karin asks. "Usually that kind of thing goes so smoothly for you."
Yeah, usually.
Karin's right though, I did really well in high school. I even did really well last semester. It's because I'm good at self-discipline, but I just can't seem to keep it together right now.
"Is it really bad?" she pries further. I can tell she wants to know if I passed.
"It's not great." I continue, "But I'm not failing."
"Well that's good." Karin sounds relieved. She probably knows my parents would kick my ass if I got anything below an A-.
"You still have the rest of the term to bring your grade up."
"True," I murmur, but I can't help wondering if I will be able to do it. If I am going to be realistic, I will admit that the answer is probably no. I don't think my marks will get any better than this. They might even get worse.
The only reason it worries me is because of my parents. They'll be upset. They'll be disappointed. They'll probably even be ashamed of me.
I'm in a tight spot right now. It's stressful.
I can't bring myself to try. It takes too much. I don't even want to be here anymore. Being here at school is hard enough, sleeping in this bed is hard enough. Keeping it all in is worse but I'd die if this got out. It's too much.
"Maybe you could get a tutor?" Karin suggests.
I know she's trying to be helpful, but I don't know why she would recommend that. She knows I won't get one. It just makes me feel like she thinks I'm dumb. It's not that I'm not capable of doing this level of work, it's that I can't bring myself to actually get anything done.
I don't reply and I think she gets the hint.
"Let's just do work together more often," she offers up instead.
That might work, even though I don't really want to. If someone's consistently watching it might light a fire under me to actually turn shit in.
"Yeah," I reply.
We do a little more work and then when we are finished we start to talk about other things. I ask her what courses she had today and she starts talking about a sociology course she is taking.
"We watched a documentary about campus rape," she says. "It was rough. A couple of students left."
I feel myself go rigid at the mention of it. "Why would they show that in class?" I mutter.
"Because it's important and it's real and a lot of girls unfortunately experience it," she tells me. "Some guys, too. Universities and colleges are hunting grounds for perverts. They like to prey on drunk girls and shit like that."
I feel my eyebrows knit together. I probably look pissed off as hell. "Karin, I don't want to hear about this shit."
She looks surprised. "What, why? You're the one who asked."
"I know, I just—" I put a hand up, signalling for her to stop, "I just don't want to talk about it anymore."
"What the hell?" Karin barks. "This is important! Why the fuck don't you want to hear about it?"
"I just don't."
I'm trying to act inconspicuous, but it's not working. She's getting all riled up. I just don't want to hear all the details—who would? It's fucking horrible.
Karin stares at me for a few moments. Her face is stern. She looks like she's trying to figure me out and it's making me uncomfortable.
"I. Just. Don't." I repeat.
She is mad. I can tell. This isn't exactly how I wanted the evening to go, but like hell I am going to sit here and listen to her describe a documentary about THAT to me.
So, I'm firm. Maybe a little too cold. I just need her to stop.
And she does.
"Fine," she seethes. In an angry huff, she gathers her things and stomps out.
I wonder what she is thinking. She will cool down and then probably come find me later to apologize. Maybe I should apologize, too, but I won't. I don't feel sorry. I really don't. I mostly just feel unsettled.
It was like having it unintentionally thrown in my face. Like a slap or something, though she didn't even raise her hand.
I don't have the emotional capacity to deal with this sort of thing right now. I'm having a hard enough time handling myself, so the last thing I want to be thinking about is how high all of the statistics on campus rape are. Having that in the forefront of my mind makes me feel physically ill.
Whatever. At least I got some homework done for once. I'll just have to try my best to actual go to class so I can turn it in.
I get back into bed and mess around on the internet for a while. I'm trying to distract myself. I want to stop focusing on how fucked up all of this is.
I lie around for a bit until my phone starts to ring. I let it, not bothering to answer. Soon it stops but then it starts again. Ugh.
I reach for it and look at the caller ID. It's my parents. Shit.
"Hello?" I immediately answer.
"Sasuke, what took you so long to answer?"
It's my mom. I'm just glad it isn't my dad.
"Sorry," I apologize, "I am doing homework with a friend."
"Oh, good!" she says, sounding pleased. "Did you get your midterm marks back yet? Your dad wants to know. I do, too."
Straight down to business.
"Not yet," I lie. "The professors are being lazy."
"We ought to call the school and complain..." she murmurs. "There is no excuse for this."
"I'm sure they'll get around to it soon," I reassure her. "We just had the tests a little while ago and they probably want to give detailed responses to each student."
I really don't want her to call. If she does, they'll tell her that we've known our grades for almost a week. I can't even imagine what she'd say if she found out I was lying to her.
"I suppose that's true," she thankfully agrees, "There wouldn't be much point in us paying for such an expensive school if they weren't taking their time to really read your work."
"That's how I try to think about it," I say. It sounds kind of farfetched for me because in reality if my professors were dragging their feet I would probably be pestering them about it, but hopefully she'll buy it.
"How are you doing now with your courses?" she asks. "Did you study hard on spring break?"
"Of course," I tell her.
"Good to hear," she says. "Anyway, I will let you go, I just wanted to check in."
"Thanks, Mom," I tell her.
"Love you."
"Love you, too," I say. "Bye."
With that, I hang up the phone.
She wanted to check in, but she didn't even ask me how I am doing.
Not that it matters. Even if she did ask me, I would have had to lie. The only thing worse than my friends finding out what happened to me is if my parents found out. My family... I don't even want to think about that. They'd probably make the biggest deal out of it. They would want to find out who did it. Then they would make me take the case to trial. My future would go down the toilet because my name would get out and that would be my entire reputation. No one is nice to victims - especially not in the court room. No matter how it goes down people will still search hard for a reason you might've been asking for it. Mine is that I was drunk.
It's not like there's any evidence that it even happened at this point. Maybe if I had remembered right away by some miracle I could have convinced myself to go get a rape kit done. But I didn't. It took me almost an entire week to come back to me, during which I showered and my bruises healed.
Months have passed now and the chance of finding any sort of residual DNA in my room is next to nothing. I've washing my sheets—I've washed my clothing—hell, I've even vacuumed. I panicked when I remembered what happened. I panicked so I cleaned. I thought it would make the bad feelings go away, but it didn't.
I should have gotten a rape kit done. Fuck. I should get an STD test done but it's too humiliating. I don't have any symptoms, but sometimes there are none.
Damn. This is stressing me out.
I feel like I'm in this permanent state of nausea. I don't really cry about it though. Is that weird? I feel like it is weird. Most people would probably cry if they were completely invaded and violated, but I can't. Not anymore. Maybe it is easier. If I cry, then the dam breaks. I don't want that.
I wonder if I could kill someone. If I knew who this person was and if I was given the opportunity... could I kill him?
I feel like I could, but it might just be the anger speaking.
Before I have the chance to get too deep in my own head about it, my phone buzzes again. I'm nervous it might be my mom calling back so I check right away, but it's just a message from Karin telling me to come upstairs.
She lives on the fourth floor and I really shouldn't feel like that's too far, but it's just not a trek that I'm up for right now.
When I don't reply she sends a second message saying she wants to talk. Ugh. I really don't want to go up there now. She's just going to ask me why I was being so weird earlier and I'll get mad. Then we'll fight again, which is the last thing I need.
I guess I should get this shit over with, though. I force myself up and I put on slippers, not in the mood to get dressed.
I leave my room and head upstairs, walking leisurely since I am dreading this.
When I get to the top floor, I move twice as slow. I hear arguing coming from one of the doors. I ignore it, but then I realize I recognize both of the voices. It's Naruto and Kiba. Two morons. It surprises me to hear them fight, though. Usually they are up each other's asses, but right now it seems like they're upset. The door is open a crack. Maybe they forgot to close it.
"I'm sorry I freaked, okay?" I hear Kiba say. "Just drop it. It's over."
"That was so lame of you!" Naruto hisses back. He sounds like he's trying his best to whisper, but is just completely incapable of lowering his voice below that of a normal conversation.
"You think it wasn't weird for me too?" he continues. "At least you could have stayed and we could have talked about it! Instead you took off at the butt-crack of dawn and ignored me for the rest of break! What the actual fuck?"
"I didn't want to talk about," I hear Kiba's voice again. "Besides, I needed to get home."
I feel guilty for eavesdropping. This really isn't of my business and I should just walk away, but I want to know what they're talking about. It's weird to hear them argue. They're both total spazzes at parties but I've never really heard them talk about anything besides sports and getting fucked up. Kiba's usually so stone-cold about his feelings— it's about the only thing I can relate to him on. He is so caught up in hyper-masculinity it's a miracle to hear him admit he can feel things.
"Well, talk now!" Naruto demands.
"I don't fucking feel like it," Kiba replies.
"And what the fuck is the bruise from?" Naruto asks. "If that is from your dad, I swear..."
"It's not!" Kiba snaps.
I feel nosy. I'm not usually like this. I don't know why I don't just walk away.
"Then who did it?"
"No one," Kiba insists. "Jeez, just drop it. None of this is important anymore."
"Man, it's just..." Naruto trails off. "That was totally not cool. You don't just ditch someone after messing around with them!"
"Shut up!" Kiba hisses. "I don't need a reminder that I had your dick in my ass!"
That's literally unbelievable. Do they know I'm listening? Are they fucking with me?
Their conversation continues though, and it becomes clear that they're not.
"Don't be such a fucking prick!" Naruto barks. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen! I was just as messed up as you—don't forget that!"
"I know you were messed up!" Kiba repeats back to him, "I just don't see why we have to have a whole conversation about this. We can leave it there—we were fucked up on drugs! There doesn't need to be some big blow up over it."
"Then stop blowing up over it," Naruto says bitingly.
Kiba pauses for a second. I stand there awkwardly, nervous that he's going to burst out of the room and catch me.
"Look," he says finally and I breathe a sigh of relief, "I think you can understand that it's a bigger deal for me—I mean, you've actually been with guys before."
It makes me wonder if Naruto is gay. I know he has been girls in the past, but sometimes people figure these things out later in life.
"It doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to," Naruto tries to reason.
"I can't just look at something like that as totally meaningless, though," Kiba argues. "It was..." he trails off, not bothering to finish the thought.
I decide to move away now. I shouldn't be invading their intimate conversation like this. Clearly they are both struggling with this - though Naruto seems more open to dealing with it.
I continue down the hall quietly, finally reaching Karin's door.
I pause, take a breath and then knock. God, I hope her roommate isn't around.
A split second later, the door opens and Karin lets me in. She's alone. She doesn't look angry anymore, but I can tell she's still annoyed by the way she huffs when I walk past her.
I sit down on her bed and she settles down across from me.
"Sasuke," she starts, diving right into it, "It really bothered me what you did earlier."
I want to roll my eyes at that, but I don't let myself. It would just make things a million times worse.
"This kind of shit if a big deal and it kind of feels like you don't think so."
Seriously? That's what she's thinking? That I don't care?
"Karin, it's not that I don't think it's serious. I just didn't want to talk about it."
She is frowning. She looks disappointed at me and I don't even fucking know why. It's not like I'm the one who needs to hear this shit. I know she probably feels passionate about it, but she is barking up the wrong tree. I'm not the kind of guy who needs to hear about this shit. The kinds of guys who need to hear about it are the guys who genuinely don't give a fuck. They're the predators. Not me.
"I know it's serious…" I continue. "It's an epidemic on campuses. I just don't want to talk about it."
"Why?" she bites out. "You won't give me an answer. You say you get that it's serious, but it doesn't sound like you do. I thought of all the people I know, you'd be willing to have a conversation about this with me. You have a mind for this stuff. You want to be a lawyer, right?"
"I don't know," I mumble.
I'm not in the mood to talk about my future. That's the last thing on my mind lately.
"Did something happen?" she asks suddenly.
I blink, not saying anything. It's out of left-field and I don't know how to respond.
"What do you mean?" I finally ask, feeling shaky. I don't have the slightest clue as to how she could have figured it out.
"I know you drink a lot at parties…Did something weird happen?"
I hate where this is going—I should just get up and leave.
"Seriously Sasuke you have to tell me," she continues, looking severely distressed, "Did you sleep with someone who was too fucked up to say yes?"
It takes a second for me to actually comprehend what she's asking, and when I finally do I don't like what she's implying,
"What?" I ask incredulously, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
She doesn't look like she's kidding.
I laugh loudly and bitterly. "Are you SERIOUSLY asking me if I'm some scumbag rapist?" I can't even control the tone of my voice because my emotions are taking over completely. My voice is shaking. She looks taken aback.
"I don't know what else to do with what little you're telling me," she murmurs. "You're being weird, quite frankly. You've been acting odd for a while."
"Well, fuck you!" I shout at her.
She looks unsettled. "You did, didn't you?"
"No!" I insist. "God, I never – I wouldn't do something like that! You should know me better than that!"
"I thought I did," she bites out.
I feel like I'm backed into a corner. I feel that familiar nausea taking over me. It comes in waves and this time it's like a fucking tsunami. I swallow the lump rising in my throat and open my mouth to speak. "You want to know what happened to me?" I ask her hoarsely.
"For fuck's sake, yes, Sasuke!" she shouts impatiently. "Did you fuck someone?"
"I didn't fuck ANYONE!" I shout back. "I'M the one who got fucked!"
Karin stops. She looks confused. Then she looks mortified. "Wait, you mean like—" she starts, but I cut her off.
"Yes!" I shout. "That's what I mean."
She very clearly doesn't know how to respond. It's kind of mean of me, but I hope she feels bad. She deserves to feel bad. She shouldn't have pushed me.
Karin sits, staring. It's uncomfortable and I want to leave.
"How—" She looks like she might cry, "I mean, when—"
What the fuck ever. I should be the one about to cry. I'm not though—I'm just numb.
"That party in January," I confess. "The one I couldn't remember." Then I laugh bitterly. "Well, I remembered."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
I roll my eyes and shrug. "It's… whatever."
"It's not," she says, still whispering.
"It kind of is," I insist. "Nothing can be done now. It happened. It is what it is."
I can tell she feels bad. Really bad.
"Sasuke –" she starts, saying my name and then cutting herself off. "I'm sorry… and I'm sorry for pushing you just now. I just… I didn't know."
"I know you didn't know," I say. "But now you do."
"Yeah," she murmurs. She's still being quiet, like she can't bring herself to be louder. It's a sensitive topic and maybe that's why. She closes her eyes. I've never seen her look so distraught. "Does anyone else know?"
"No," I tell her. "Just you… and the guy who did it."
I should cry, right? I want to. I think it would make me feel better. I don't know why it won't come out.
"Who the fuck was it? I swear to god I'll kick his ass to the moon," Karin says angrily.
"I don't remember," I state flatly. "It's no use dwelling on it."
"What do you mean you don't remember?" She balls her hands into tight fists. "You remember it all happening but you have no idea who it was?"
I don't know why it sounds like she's mad at me. It's not my fucking fault I don't know who it was. I was drugged out of my fucking mind.
"I'd never met him before," I admit. "I don't think I'd recognize him even if he was standing right in front of me."
"That's so…messed up," Karin whispers.
Please. As if I don't know that already.
"No shit," I say. "I just remember… hands. Being felt up. Touched. Penetrated. I was sore as hell the next day… like, really banged up. Like I got shoved around. I don't know why, though. I mean, I was so fucked up it's not like I put up a fight."
"Fucking hell," she murmurs.
"Yeah," I respond.
It gets quiet. I can tell there are other things she wants to say, but she feels like she needs to censor herself and choose her words more carefully.
"You don't have to do that," I tell her.
"Do what?"
"Act like I'm going to snap," I explain. "I mean… I know I kind of just did, but I won't do it again. You get it now, right?"
"Yeah, I do," she whispers. "I'm sorry, Sasuke."
God, shut up.
"You keep saying that," I point out. "It's not like it's your fault."
"Yeah, but…" she trails off. "Okay." A pause. "Can I… Can I hug you?"
I'm somewhat taken aback by the question. I'm taken aback BECAUSE it's a question.
"Uh… yeah," I tell her.
She inches forward and then envelops me. Her grip isn't tight, but it's there. Her hands are locked around my back and she's warm. Familiar. I push my face into her shoulder and feel another lump in my throat.
When she's done she sits back, still looking disheartened.
"I wish there was more I could do."
I wish there was more I could do, too. There isn't though, so I have to let the whole incident go. I wish I wasn't having such a hard time doing that.
"My grades are sucking because of it," I admit. "I can't focus or get anything done. I haven't been studying or turning things in."
Karin puts a hand on my shoulder. "We can start doing more work together—like we talked about today. I don't mind if it will help you bring your marks up. Besides, I like spending time with you."
God I feel so fucking pathetic. I shouldn't need someone to help me make time to study.
I think she knows what I'm thinking because she says, "Don't be ashamed or anything, okay?"
"It's hard not to," I mumble. "This is the most shameful experience of my life and things keep getting worse."
She nods, looking sympathetic. "It's just… It's not your fault. You shouldn't feel bad about struggling. Maybe you can talk to your professors, tell them something? Not what happened, but maybe something that will explain why your marks are suffering lately."
"Like what?" I mutter.
"Maybe tell them you're depressed?"
"I probably am," I admit bitterly. "I'm so unmotivated. It's like I just stopped caring about everything. All the shit seems so unimportant now."
I don't want to tell people that, though. I don't want people thinking I'm in over my head with school.
Maybe I am though.
Maybe I should take some time off—although I have absolutely no idea how to go about facilitating something like that.
Besides, I might have a hard time coming back if I left for a while and I'm sure that dropping out entirely would just make me feel way worse than I already do.
Thinking about the whole process makes me feel physically ill. I want to change the subject.
"Hey," I say, remembering what I heard earlier in the hallway, "I was wondering—is Naruto gay?"
"Um, I don't know—I don't think so?" Karin replies. She seems weirded out by the question.
"Hm," I wonder aloud, "I didn't think so either really, but when I was on my way upstairs I just overheard him talking to Kiba in his room."
"Talking about what?" Now she seems invested. I guess it makes sense that she would be—she did spend most of her childhood with him.
"About fucking," I say crudely since there is no other way to put it.
"What...?" She looks surprised by that at first, but then she tilts her head to the side and seems to consider it. "Hm… I guess it isn't THAT shocking."
"It's kind of shocking to me," I admit.
She shrugs. "Dunno. Now you have me curious…"
"Don't tell him I know," I add. "He'll freak if he hears that I was eavesdropping."
"All right," she relents. "I guess it doesn't really matter. Why did you want to know?"
"I'm just being nosy," I tell her. "I was surprised to hear it – especially coming from those two."
"Now I want to know the story," she mumbles. Before I can tell her to keep her trap shut, she quickly adds, "I won't ask, though, don't worry."
It's weird to be the first person to know this piece of information. It must be a new thing that they're trying to figure out.
"Maybe it will come up some other time," I reassure her. "Naruto has never been very good at keeping his mouth shut and if you wait long enough he'll probably bring it up at a family dinner or something."
"That's true." Karin laughs. "He'll probably do something stupid and then everyone we know will find out all at once."
"I mean, they didn't even shut the door to talk about it—so that's a start," I add. It's funny, but I feel kind of bad for them, actually. I of all people know that kind of thing is a bitch to confront.
It's easy to pretend those feelings aren't there. For a little while, at least. Then you realize you're unhappy. Then you get stuck between whether or not you should make it known and disappoint your family, or if you should hide it and keep your family happy. Well, that's my case, at least. It's hard. I don't really know what to do sometimes. I feel like I have so many secrets. Only Jugo knows this one and it's only because he walked in on me with a guy once. I couldn't exactly deny it after that. But I trust him, for what it's worth. I know he'd never tell a soul. I know Karin wouldn't, either, but it's hard to get the words out. It was hard to tell her I was assaulted. Two huge secrets in one sitting feels like too much.
I know she wouldn't judge me or anything, but still…
I wonder if she suspects it. I wonder if other people suspect it. When I was young, I had a NO-GIRLS zone up, but that changed when people started wondering if that meant I was gay. So, I slept with some girls. I kept sleeping with girls. Then people stopped wondering if I was gay. But I am.
I swear, I am the fakest person in the world.
It sucks because I know I hurt a lot of girls' feelings. I always try to be clear with them that I'm not looking for a relationship but I swear it just makes them more invested. They think they can change my mind if they spend enough time with me or something, but they can't. I'm never going to want to date them. I usually don't even sleep with the same girl more than once if I can help it.
I wonder when the fuck Kiba and Naruto hooked up. Based off of what they said it sounded like it was the beginning of break, but it could have been even before then.
They must have been at a party. I want to know if other people noticed what was about to go down.
If it WAS at a party, then probably not. No one ever knows what the fuck is going on at parties. Everyone is drunk and everyone gets stupid.
Then bad things happen. Bad things always fucking happen at parties.
I hate parties. Even hearing the music from my room makes me shudder. It's too much. It just makes me think about that night I decided to screw my life up.
"Sasuke?" Karin says my name.
"Mm…?"
"You looked like you were zoning out," she says. "You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good," I tell her. "Just thinking."
"About?" she pries.
"Nothing important," I insist dismissively.
She looks unsure, but she doesn't push me. "All right."
"I have a lot of stuff to catch up on—I should probably go work on it," I tell her, although once I leave I'm sure I'll go right back to doing nothing.
"Okay." Karin smiles sympathetically. "If you want to talk more I'll be up here."
I nod and get up off her bed, heading for the door.
"And Sasuke—?" She adds once I'm halfway in the hall.
I turn around and poke my head back in.
"Thank you for telling me."
I shrug. It's not like she gave me much of a choice really. I probably still wouldn't have told her if I hadn't felt pressured to.
It's probably for the best. I do feel a little better, but in other ways a little worse. I hate knowing that this happened to me and that it's something other people are now aware of. It's too humiliating. At least it's just Karin. I know she won't betray my trust. She's not that kind of person.
I head down the hall and when I turn the corner I nearly run into Naruto. I'm about to snap, but he's quick to apologize. He looks a little flustered, perhaps from his talk with Kiba.
"It's fine," I say, relenting. I should go easy on him, especially if he's having a hard time as of late. I'm not the kind of person who feels better by making others feel worse, contrary to popular belief.
He smiles and leans closer, completely invading my personal bubble. "So, hey, where've you been lately? You're never in class anymore! Are you okay?"
I take a step back and say. "I'm fine."
I try to think of some sort of excuse as to why I've been missing class, but I can't think of anything.
"You haven't missed too much," he continues, probably not understanding the affect that not attending class can have on your grade. "I'd offer to give you my notes but they're not very good."
"That's nice of you, but it's okay." I force a small smile.
It's not okay actually. I probably really should look at his notes, even if they're shit. Anything is better than nothing, but I just don't want him to have another excuse to keep poking around in my business.
"What'd you do over break?" he asks, trying to push the conversation forward.
"I relaxed." I give him a vague answer. It's not exactly untrue, but it was a little bit more along the lines of sleeping to avoid thinking about shit. "What did YOU do?"
He shrugs, looking a little sheepish. It makes me think I know exactly what's going through his head. He's probably thinking about Kiba.
"Uh… just got drunk and shit," he says.
I nod my head. "Oh."
"Makes me think I kinda need a break from me," he continues
He always shares too much. He talks openly with people – more openly than I could ever imagine being with someone who isn't even my friend.
"You party pretty hard," I comment. "A break wouldn't be a bad thing."
"You party hard, too," he points out
"Not anymore," I correct him
"What changed?" he pries.
"I just realized that my efforts are best spent elsewhere," I tell him.
He gives me a lopsided smile and tilts his head to the side. It makes me feel like he's mocking me in a way, though I know he probably isn't. Still, I feel defensive. "But you don't even go to class. Where are your efforts going?"
I want to smack him upside the head for that comment.
"I have more important courses I need to prioritize," I lie. I must sound mad because Naruto looks regretful almost immediately. "Business 101 isn't exactly the most stimulating thing in my schedule."
"Sorry, I didn't realize," he mumbles.
"Yeah, well, not every first year slacks off with 100-level courses like you and your friends do," I snap back at him. "I'm busy. I'll see you around."
With that, I walk past him and start down the stairs.
He turns around and watches over his shoulder as I leave. I hope he doesn't follow me. I don't want to talk anymore.
