Slide Into My DM

Chapter Seven

Megara

Just inside the building’s second doors, Frankie and I stomp the snow off our boots. Then we make our way up the double stairs into our English class. Seeing Thomas there, I very actively don’t look at him.

When the class is over, I take my time packing up so that everyone leaves before us. As we’re walking and talking down the hall, I still have a nervous look around. After Chad’s party, the last person I want to be confronted with is Thomas.

Because it’s Monday, Frankie and I had to drive separately. Having gotten caught up in the campus bookstore buying the exam pamphlets, classes are letting out as I walk down the Liberal Arts building.

Just before the end of the hall, I see Thomas walking out of one of the last classrooms. Panicking, I turn at the water fountain. I overhear him talking about cultural anthropology as he walks away.

Thomas

Finding myself in the library at an odd hour, I check my phone for the time. The study group for the final is supposed to be meeting here in five minutes…. Surely, I’m not the first one.

I eye the tables towards the back of the room, just before the glass walls, which seems promising. Making my way back, though, the first face I recognize is Meg’s. Not wanting to get into it with her, I immediately turn and walk awkwardly under the stairs.

Of course, it’s a f*****g Wednesday that I’m late to school. Stupid f*****g construction going at it now that the snow has melted enough. I hadn’t mentally added extra time to my drive because I thought they were done. Now! I’m going to be late for English.

Really not wanting points docked, I start jogging across the parking lot. I notice a brown-haired female in a black coat doing the same thing. Then I notice it’s Meg. Jesus, really? Up on the hill, I slow and make sure to give her enough time to enter the building before I do.

Megara

After that conversation with Triple G about Subway and Starbucks, when I enter Barnes And Noble, I think it might be time to try it. Walking up to the counter, I eye the food and sweets in the display. The brownie looks good, so why not? I order the strawberry refresher ‘G suggested and I was proud of myself when I sit down with my order.

Just after taking a picture for my personal Insta, I hear an oh too familiar voice behind me (at the counter). Slipping down into my chair, I pray he doesn’t notice me. After a few minutes, I see him walk into the store, giving me great relief.

New books in hand, the cashier straight ahead calls me forward. I’d been eyeing the new Magnolia Journal, so I grab that too. As she does her thing, I look at all the other impulse buys and know better than to buy yet another bookmark I’m never going to use.

“That’ll be forty thirty-nine.”

I already had the two twenties in my hand. Looking back in my wallet I see I have a single quarter or another twenty. Remember my days working retail, maybe I’ll get lucky. I had her the two bills. “I only have a quarter… I’d really hate to have to break another twenty.”

She looks at me, deadpan. “Do you have a debit card?”

I sigh. “For fourteen cents?”

She nods, “Your total is forty thirty-nine,” she repeats.

A dollar bill is stretched past my ear and I hear a low, “Here,” behind me.

I look to thank the person but see Thomas instead. Shaking my head, I pull my card out, “No, it’s fine.” I don’t need his stupid, rich a*s saving me. I’ll f*****g put fourteen cents on my card.

“Meg, com’on.” I can hear the ‘don’t be stupid’ in his tone.

I literally elbow him back, “I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine but charging a few cents on your account is silly.”

The lady behind the counter is beyond tired of us and takes the dollar and gives him the change. “Have a good day.” And before I can even collect my bag she says, “Next!”

He leaves whatever he’d been in line to buy on the counter and follows me. Frustrated, I have to stand by the door to sort out my purse and grab my keys. He holds the door open for me. I close my eyes instead of rolling them. “Thanks.”

I look behind me while pushing the next door. “I don’t need you to save me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m an adult. ‘I can tie my own sandals and everything’.” He looks utterly confused. I do roll my eyes. “Like from Hercules?” I huff.

And then, instantly, I feel like a b***h. Relaxing my face, I tell him, “I’ll give you fourteen cents the next time I see you.”

As I’m already crossing the parking lot, I hear him call, “Meg, wait!” but I just don’t care. He’s just so under my skin and I hate how I react.

You would not be proud of me, I did it again. Why does this keep happening? I don’t want to be mean; I don’t want to be nasty.

I tried talking to my dad about it, but he didn’t really know what advice to give. He’s one of those parents that raised me on “some people will like you, some people won’t and that’s okay”. This also means, some people I will like, some people I won’t and that’s supposed to be okay.

But it’s not. I need to figure out how to stop.

Is there anything I can do to help?

I stare at his latest message. Is there anything he can do? As I’m about to start typing, a brand-new message appears.

Hi?

Hi!

Had a feeling you might be on.

We can IM now.

Right.

So… is there anything I can do to help?

Now that we’re screen to screen, having an active conversation, I’m not sure how to feel. Weirdly enough, I feel like I can finally be open and honestly, completely. And now like I have to over-analyze every word I type.

Did I ever tell you my mom died?

I guessed.

It gets hard around Christmas time because the very few memories I have are around now. As I grow older, when I need a mother to talk to, I feel lost.

There’s a long silence and I stare at the world ‘seen’ under my last chat bubble. Finally, he sends something, and I sit up in bed.

Let’s break it down….

What’s the biggest problem right now?

That I’m mean lol

You’re not.

It feels like it.

What, because some jerk provoked you?

Yeah.

Minus specifics, it’s harder to help.

Except to say, don’t let him bother you.

I know, I know, easier said than done.

But you are in full control of how you react.

I look over at Nox, “I am in full control.”

He mews and I pet him around the neck.

Brows furrowed I look back to my screen.

I am in full control.

You’re right.

I just….

“Have to not react?” I look back to Nox, “Right? Right.”

Have to not react.

Right!

Agency over structuralism.

“What?” I whisper. But then I vaguely remember a probably drunken Tom philosophically talking about that at the bonfire.

What is with guys and cultural anthropology?

Lol, well, it’s kind of the answer to any question.

CA breaks down life into bite-sized pieces.

Anything from evolution, to religion, to s*x and gender…

You name it.

And the answer to your question is agency.

You make the choice, don’t be influenced.

I know you worry about the choices you make, so here’s a perfect time to prove to yourself what you’re capable of and to others how wonderful a person you are.