Chapter 13
You’re Poisonous
Imanaged to scrape by my second semester classes with decent grades, especially since there were minimal distractions. Adam never came back around and the few guys I interacted with I managed to keep at arm’s distance. I got a job working as a hostess at a local restaurant, which occupied my time, got me off campus, and help me to pay down a bit of debt.
One day, after I got off work early, I set off toward my car, walking the same path I’d been walking for the past few months. The hair salon next to the restaurant was uncharacteristically empty. Without thinking, I walked in and declared that I wanted to cut my hair off.
The woman behind the counter looked slightly taken aback but acquiesced, leading me to a chair.
“Bad break-up?” she asked after she’d settled the drape around my shoulders.
I nodded. “Trying to get over it.”
She held her hand over my hair, just above my shoulders. “Here?”
“Shorter,” I replied.
I shook my head when she gestured to below my chin, finally nodding at a point above my ears.
With every snip of the scissors, as my hair, the hair that Joshua used to run his hands through, fell to the floor, I felt lighter, more free. After it was over, I walked out, swinging my new short hair. I hadn’t worn it that short since second grade. The warm wind felt alien on my neck, but I didn’t care. New hairstyle, new Tammy.
I accepted U of M’s offer—I had no other options, anyway. I was one of about forty graduating Eckhart with a marine biology degree, which represented only about 5% of the people who entered as freshmen with that major. Most of my classmates were destined to work at Starbucks while pursuing unpaid internships. A few accepted minimum wage jobs cataloging specimens. Even fewer were going on to grad school. I was due to start the summer portion of my year-long journalism program a week after getting my purloined diploma.
Two nights before graduation, Lizzie and I went to our favorite pub, Wet Willy’s, for one last time before leaving Florida. As soon as I entered, I spotted Adam and Mike sitting at the bar. Lizzie and I took a seat near the door and I watched as the guys took a shot. After I’d had a couple more drinks, Adam deigned to approach us. “Tammy, I have to talk to you. Alone.”
Lizzie looked over at me. I shrugged. She went up to the bar to order another beer, squeezing in between two patrons on the other side of the bar from Mike.
“Long time no see,” I told Adam.
“The reason I didn’t call you was because I didn’t want to see you.”
“Thanks.”
“No, you don’t understand…”
“Okay Adam, why don’t you explain it to me then?”
“Tammy, it took me a long time to get over you my sophomore year. The only way I could cope was to accept that I would never see you again.” He was so drunk he was swaying.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“And then you came back into my life, but all you could talk about was him. You’re not over him.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“And I couldn’t handle it. I’ve never hated and loved someone at the same time as I do you.”
I took a long drink, uneasy at his use of the word love.
“Tammy, you are never going to find the man you’re looking for. I had it bad for you two years ago, but you would never let me in. Every time I tried to bring up having a relationship with you, you’d back off. You never gave me an ounce; you wouldn’t say a kind word or anything. The only time we’d kiss was when you were drunk, every other time, you pretty much wouldn’t let me touch you. That’s why I started with the whole Jane thing: I was trying to get you jealous. But it was a mistake—it was way too easy for you to push me away after that. It wasn’t as much of a big deal as you made it out to be, but once you found a way out, you were gone. I never really liked Jane.”
“This is bullshit. It’s always the same old bullshit, and you’re drunk.” I wanted him to stop talking before the conversation went to a place I didn’t want it to go.
“And then, when we started talking again, you’d bring up the whole Joshua thing.” And there it goes. “I’m not saying you weren’t in love with him, but he was long gone by the time I came around again. You knew he wasn’t coming back. Joshua’s a cop-out, Tammy. You cling to him as an excuse for you not getting close to anyone. You can’t let anyone in, let alone try to love you. You’re poisonous.”
“If you really loved me that much, you would have kept pursuing me.” Just like Joshua did.
“I gave up. I realized I couldn’t change you for the world. I don’t need that crap. And nobody else does either. Good luck with ever having anyone else love you again.”
“Screw you, Adam. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I hate you.” I winced as he got closer and pointed his finger in my face. “I loved you once, but I hate you now. And I do know you, Tammy. I know you all too well.”
He swaggered off as I screamed, “I hate you too, you asshole!”
Lizzie reappeared. “Tammy, are you okay?”
“No.” I grabbed my purse with shaking hands. “I just want to leave.”
Lizzie glanced over at Adam, who’d rejoined Mike. He tipped his head back as he swallowed back another shot. “Men are jerks.”
“Tell me about it.”
In an ironic twist, Corrie and I graduated the exact same weekend. My mom flew down for my graduation while Dad went to the University of Michigan’s ceremony. Drew, about to graduate from high school, stayed home to focus on finals.
Some brilliant Kennedy guy got the idea to hand out marbles right before the ceremony, telling each member of Eckhart College’s graduating class of 2001 to deliver them to the college president as he shook our hands. But the vice-president interrupted the calling of names to tell us, “No more marbles,” long before they got to the T’s.
Afterward, Jane, Lizzie and I sat together with our respective parents at the picnic, giving each other tearful goodbyes before we each left for our new adventures. Lizzie was going to be a real-estate agent in Illinois, Jane to med school in Rhode Island, and me off to Michigan sans Joshua.
I wanted to say goodbye to Dallas before I left Florida—to wish him luck in his future endeavors—but he didn’t make it to our graduation. Probably Horseboy got locked in a stable somewhere, or was buried underneath his eggcrate, eating sugar-covered peppers topped with Mackinac Island Fudge ice cream.