Spring Semester, Freshman Year, 2013
Shea's plan was simple: get in, get out, go home. No detours or distractions. All she needed was a box of tampons. That was it.
The fluorescent light of the drug store annoyingly buzzed above her. Shea clutched her coat closer to her body, silently cursing Plainview for being so damn cold in the winter. Not to mention neither Priya nor Sam were home for the week, so she was stuck inside her apartment watching reruns of Say Yes to the Dress.
She should have ignored her mom's demands to fly home for the break. So what if her mom was "getting tired of having her in the house?" She didn't "have to go home and face what happened." Then she wouldn't be in this dumb drug store in a town that no longer felt like home.
Still. She was here. And no amount of complaining would stop her period.
She was scanning the shelf in front of her, contemplating the best price, when she heard her name.
"Shea?"
Shea nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart rocketed into her throat, and with wide, panicked eyes, she turned and saw…
Shit. She forced a smile, but her voice was still shaky. "Hey, Greg."
Greg had somehow become lankier since the last time Shea had seen him. Though, to be fair, that was August. His hair was a little longer and shaggier, and she thought she saw his chin faintly adorned with facial hair.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Don't you live in Maryland now?"
Sort of. Honestly, she wished she lived there full time. Shea yanked a random box of tampons from the shelf and waved it in her hand, hopeful that the very sight of personal feminine products would scare off the teen.
"Shopping," she explained simply. When he didn't budge, she continued, "I'm home for winter break. What are YOU doing here?"
"With Mom." He jammed his thumb behind him, gesturing to where Susan must have been standing. "You should say hi. Hey, Mom!"
Double shit. Shea considered making a run for it, but it was already too late: there was Susan, holding Manny's hand.
"What is it, Greg? We're almost done—oh, Shea," Susan smiled sadly, pitifully. Shea hated that stare from anyone, let alone a person she really cared about. "You're home."
"I'm home," she echoed. She wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of embarrassment and misery.
After a brief, but painful, pause, Susan asked gently, "How are you doing? It's been a while."
Don't remind me, she thought.
Shea said, "Um, okay, I think. Keeping busy with school."
"That's good," she smiled.
Shea and the Heffleys stood in awkward silence for a moment. Over the fluorescent lights, Shea could hear the chorus of Train's "Drops of Jupiter" swelling above them. See, THIS is why she didn't want to leave the apartment during break. But no, her period needed to come and ruin everything.
"I should, um," Shea stammered.
Greg interrupted, "Have you talked to Rodrick?"
"Greg!" Susan said sharply.
Not that Shea hadn't been wishing he would text her for the last several months. But sometimes, we don't always get what we want.
Her face burned. "No, I haven't."
To his mother, Greg asked, "Does she know about dinner? And the plate?"
"Ka-boom!" Manny yelled gleefully.
"Greg!" Susan snapped again. This time, the teen looked defeated.
But all Shea could think about was, "What plate?"
All three Heffleys stood in silence and shame for a moment. Finally, Susan mustered, "Rodrick is… was… going through a lot."
"Drops of Jupiter" faded out, and Katy Perry's "Dark Horse" took its place. It wasn't louder than the ringing in Shea's ears, though.
"I thought so," she said, but that wasn't true. Back in the fall, she wasn't sure what was going on.
"Okay, well, we should get going," Susan said, steering her children towards the doors. "Have a great break, Shea."
She snorted and clenched the package in her hand. Yeah, right.
Instead of driving home, which was part of her elusive "in and out" plan, Shea sat in her car in the parking lot and called Priya on speaker phone. She cranked the heat up in her car, waiting impatiently for her best friend to answer. Priya's phone rang through to voicemail a few times before she finally picked up.
"You will not believe the morning I've had," she said before Priya could even say hello. "I got my period, so I needed to go to the store, and guess who was there?"
"Shea," Priya said. In the background, Shea thought she heard low laughter and chattering. "Is this an emergency? I was in class."
Shea glanced at the clock—just after 9am. Oops. She forgot Priya had early morning classes.
"An emotional emergency," she joked, and Priya sighed.
"Well, I'm out here, so it better have been your ex."
"Close," she conceded. "His family."
"Oof."
"Big oof. Greg let slip that apparently Rodrick broke a dinner plate at some point."
"What?!" her friend shrieked.
"I know! When? Why? What the hell was going on?"
"Well, you have the means to find that out," Priya instructed, sounding like a wise sage. "Text Ben."
Her best friend was right. She could text Ben for more information, but her once close friend was a casualty in her breakup with Rodrick. She was hopeful there was no bad blood between them, but she had no idea.
"I guess so."
"Listen, I want to unpack this with you, but I've gotta get back. I'll never pass this class if I don't focus."
"I don't believe that for a second," Shea teased, and her friend chuckled. "Okay, fine, talk later."
"Love you, bye!"
Shea stomped the wet snow off her shoes before entering her and her dad's apartment. Her anxiety was roaring at her in overdrive, so she poured a tall orange juice and vodka and opened an empty text to Ben. Before college, she might have abstained from the temptation of early morning alcohol, but this was a special circumstance.
Their last text exchange was in October, right around when everything with Rodrick started going sour. She sent him a message asking if Rodrick had told him anything was going on, that she was having a really hard time getting in touch with him.
Ben replied, "No?"
And that was it. Years of friendship suddenly evaporated.
Shea took a long, deep drink of her screwdriver. She tapped out a few different messages, overanalyzing them for subtext (and wishing Priya wasn't in class so she could call her back), before settling on something simple.
"Hi."
Before she could even turn the TV back on, Ben replied, "hi stranger! what's up?"
Shea couldn't help but smile. If he was mad at her, he definitely wouldn't have replied at the speed of light. Plus, hearing his chipper voice in her head was reassuring.
"so… weird question." Her fingers danced across her keypad. "I ran into mrs. heffley and greg at the store and learned that rodrick might have broken a plate during dinner? does this sound familiar?"
She prayed that Ben wouldn't mock her. He answered, "ur home?" After a beat, he followed up with, "yea it was a shitshow. long story…"
Even though she was no longer obligated to care about Rodrick, Shea couldn't help but feel sad for her ex. She remembered Susan's words, "He had a lot going on." She could only imagine what was torturing him, but it couldn't have been any good.
Figuring she had nothing left to lose, she prompted him, "i have time…"
Worried she sounded pathetic, she quickly followed up with, "and vodka."
Ben typed, "u had me at vodka lmao. lemme get dressed. see u soon."
Ben looked exactly the same as he did before they parted ways for college: lanky, messy blonde hair, crooked eyebrow ring, the faint residue of marijuana smoke wafting off his battered leather coat… When she opened the door for him, she couldn't help but break out in a huge smile.
"Hey!" they choired, reaching out to each other for a bear hug. Her grip was welcome and familiar; why was she ever worried about texting Ben?!
"It's so good to see you," Shea gushed. A hard lump formed in her throat as she thought fondly of their adventures during their senior year. "You look like the same asshole as always."
Ben barked an appreciative laugh. "Thanks. I see you grew out your Avril hair."
Shea self-consciously touched her hair, now an even bob that fell beneath her chin. "I needed a change. Plus, Avril grew out her hair, right?"
"So how about that vodka?" he clapped his hands together. "It's fucking freezing out."
You didn't have to tell Shea twice. She led her friend up the stairs to her third floor apartment as they complained about the weather ("I'm freezing my balls off," Ben said). Once inside, Ben tore off his coat and Shea fixed him a heavy handed drink.
"Cheers!" Ben said heartily, and they clinked their glasses together.
Ben flopped onto the couch, stretching out his long legs, while Shea curled up on the recliner. Shea was about to ask about Rodrick when Ben asked, "How's college?"
"Oh, fine," she shrugged. "It was a big adjustment, honestly. I missed home a lot at first. And then…" she trailed off, hoping Ben would fill in the big blank. "I'm staying busy, though. My friends and I go out a lot. I try to get decent grades."
Ben laughed. "Yeah? I'm on academic probation."
Shea gaped. "Already?"
He shrugged and took a deep drink. "Yeah, those morning classes are just… super hard to get to. I dunno. My dad said I've got another semester to get it together."
"Then what?"
"He murders me?" Shea snorted. "I dunno. I'll probably do community college or something."
"That sucks. Sorry to hear that."
"Meh, it's whatever. If only I could major in flip cup."
"Then you'd be set," Shea teased.
"Hell yeah." He raised his glass.
They settled into silence as they sipped their drinks. Shea was bursting to ask about Rodrick's alleged explosion, but she didn't want to seem like she was using Ben… even though, if she had to admit, she kind of was.
"So," Ben started, drumming his fingers on the glass. "You and Rodrick broke up."
"Yeah." Even though it happened months ago, the wounds from the ordeal still felt fresh. She closed her eyes, remembering how she would crumble on her dorm room bed; the heavy feeling of sadness was suffocating. "He didn't leave me much of a choice though."
"What's that mean?"
"He just stopped talking to me. I mean, I knew something was wrong. But I literally couldn't get through to him."
"Huh." Ben considered this. "He didn't tell me that."
Soon, the words were spilling out of Shea. "It wasn't like that at first. I moved in, we both started classes, got busy… I dunno. We talked a lot, then one day it just seemed to slow down. When I asked what was wrong he kept saying nothing. And then he just stopped talking to me."
Shea closed her eyes. With classes and other shenanigans with her new friends, it was hard to say when exactly things started to change. End of September, maybe? October?
Before she left for college, Shea resolved to come home once a month if she could. And then, life happened. Rodrick wanted to fly out to visit her during September, but he couldn't afford the flight. When Loded Diper was supposed to play their monthly show in the city, Ben couldn't make it home, and they had to cancel.
Then, when Shea would have her October break, Rodrick couldn't get time off of work. He threatened to quit to see her, but Shea told him not to—that they could wait a little longer. And, to make matters more complicated, Chris couldn't afford to come home in October, so they had to cancel their show again.
Shea understood he was frustrated and probably lonely, but why wouldn't he just talk to her? She remembered desperately asking her roommate that over and over. "Why won't he just text me back?"
"He forced my hand," Shea clarified to Ben. "I couldn't get in touch with him. So I broke up with him."
Through a voicemail. After a long, anxious day of trying to get in touch with him, Shea left him the message around 11pm. Her roommate held her hand as she cried on the phone, trying to steady her voice, saying the words she never thought she would… "Rodrick, I can't do this anymore."
"Geez. He was in a bad way, I'll say that."
"I figured as much. I don't know why he would cut me out, though."
Ben shrugged. "I dunno, man. I wish I did. I think it was just a lot of shit at once. We all moved away; he hated school, had no one to hang with; we lost the gig at Starland…"
"What?!" Shea gasped. She knew the band hadn't played in a bit, but she had no idea they lost the recurring concert.
"We canceled twice. The manager was pissed. I think whats-their-name from the Battle of the Bands took over." Ben continued, "But yeah. It was a lot for him. He was acting like an asshole to everyone, so you weren't alone on that. I guess after you broke up with him, he got mega pissed at dinner one night and threw a plate against the wall."
"Jesus," she swore. She anxiously wrung her hands around her glass, now nearly empty. She could imagine Rodrick losing his temper at dinner—maybe his dad was pressuring him to get his grades up or something, and he stood and whipped the plate at the wall, shattering it.
"Uh huh. I actually hadn't heard from him in a while. He called me and asked if I could visit one weekend, so I cut classes for a week and came home." Ben paused. "Maybe that's why I'm on probation."
Shea barked a laugh. "That and the flip cup."
"Right, yeah. Anyway, I came home, we hung out… It was good, like old times. I won't say he's all better now, but he's… getting better. I know he's taking this semester off after he flunked the fall. He's working a ton. Staying busy."
Shea was glad to hear that Rodrick was out of his rock bottom. But that worrying voice in the back of her head wondered, why wouldn't he reach out to her?
"Did he ever…" She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat (as well as the last of her drink). "Did he ever mention me?"
Ben's face fell. "Not really, honestly. He told me you guys broke up. Didn't say why. I didn't ask."
Shea had a feeling that was the case, but it didn't make the news any easier to hear. She glanced out the window, where frigid Plainview was covered in slush and snow. Part of her wished that she and Rodrick had a big, blowout fight—something to make it easier to move on from their breakup. If she could demonize him, Shea wouldn't be so stuck in the past.
But instead, here she was, no closer to closure, mourning what could have been.
Shea was napping, wrapped up in her blankets like an overgrown burrito, when her phone buzzed next to her, stirring her from her slumber.
"Hello?" she said groggily.
"Hey sleepyhead," Priya teased. "I was just calling to see how your day went. Any luck on the information mission?"
Shea stretched and rolled onto her back in her bed. "Mm, yeah, I did. Ben actually came over for a while. We got sandwiches from that deli around the block and drank our weight in screwdrivers."
"That explains the nap. So, what's the scoop?"
Suddenly, Shea wasn't so tired anymore. She told Priya everything that Ben had disclosed, including the plate throwing incident.
"It sounds like he really wasn't well," Priya said sadly. "I'm glad he's taking steps to change it, though."
"Yeah," Shea agreed. "I just… don't know why he wouldn't call me."
"He could have been embarrassed or scared."
"I guess."
"The shitty thing is you might never really know," Priya said carefully, "And you have to learn to be okay with that."
"I know," Shea groaned. "It's not as easy as it sounds, though."
"You're right," Priya empathized. "But you'll be okay. I promise."
Shea sighed. Some days, the weight of her breakup felt heavier than others. She sometimes could whip back and forth between "yeah, fuck that guy, I don't need him" and "wait, I was just kidding, I'll love him forever."
When she told her mom she and Rodrick broke up, she advised that, in a year, this wouldn't feel like the end of the world. But could she really? Was she doomed to be miserable forever?
"Don't worry so much," Priya told her after a few beats. "You weren't meant to be."
"I know," Shea said, but she didn't really believe it.
