16. SUBJECT: GOOD TO SEE YOU
In Your Own Words
Texts Sent on March 16, 2017 at 2:38pm
Simon Idzik: I just got the weirdest text from Sarah. She says you're at the library with "a hunk" and she's under the impression that it's some kind of study date.
Simon Idzik: Should I be upset over the fact that my girlfriend referred to another guy as a hunk?
Simon Idzik: I don't think I care. Hunk sounds like a way to measure cheese.
Simon Idzik: More importantly, are you okay being around him?
Simon Idzik: Cass?
Cassie Belford: I'm making friends outside of you, as per your suggestion. I'm having a nice time.
Simon Idzik: Is this the hockey player? Sarah wasn't sure.
Cassie Belford: Yes, why?
Simon Idzik: Call me if you need anything.
. . .
from: [email protected]
subject: Good to see you
sent: March 16, 2017 at 10:52pm
Hey Cassie,
It feels strange to be emailing after hanging out with you. I'm getting in my own head a little bit, if I'm being totally honest. I even struggled with how to start this email. "Hi Cassie" seemed too formal, and "Hey Cass" felt too forward. I think I struck a good balance though, don't you?
It was really nice re-meeting you.
In some ways, I felt like I already knew you. But there was a lot I couldn't know from your emails or that one party three years ago. For example, I'd never thought about your height before. I mean, you're taller than Lena (most people are) but you're shorter than some of the words you throw around. I also didn't know that you drink so much water. You refilled that giant bottle twice in three hours.
If you drank that much milk, you'd probably be taller.
And I hope it's okay to say this, but I got such a kick out of your laugh. It's crazy fucking cute. I didn't even care that you were only laughing because I mispronounced the word 'nuisance' (to be fair I've only ever seen it written, and I was trying to impress you.)
I know you already said no, but I still think we should exchange phone numbers. While I sort of understand what you meant about "boundaries", I think texting would be so much faster than email. And then maybe we could bump into each other more often.
After you left the library, I stayed for a couple of hours trying to get some work done. I don't know about you, but I wasn't very productive this afternoon. I ended up finishing the paper on JFK and citing half of it, so I'm gonna meet the due date. That's a big relief.
I'd told Mel that I'd meet her at her place after I finished. She wanted to watch a movie and introduce me to her roommates. I went because I said I would, but even the walk over there felt forced. I couldn't help but think about everything Peter and Lena had said about relationships and investment.
What was stopping me from investing in someone like Mel? I know you aren't a fan, but she's pretty awesome. She's smart, she's fun, and she's gorgeous. She also does pretty good Spongebob imitations. It's not like I don't like her. But I was trying so goddamn hard to convince myself that she's what I want. I watched her, instead of the movie, and I was completely fixated on that word you used in the library. Apathetic.
I know you were talking about my essay, not the girl I'm dating. But still. It's one thing for me to be apathetic to the failures of Kennedy in Laos---I've never slept with him. It isn't fair to Mel, though.
So, I broke up with her.
I don't feel like getting into the details. She didn't cry or yell, but I think she was pissed. I tried hard to stay away from clichés, not that it did me any good. She still thinks I'm an asshole. To her, I am an asshole. I'm the guy who changed his mind about her out of nowhere and couldn't explain why.
There wasn't a good way to explain it when she asked. I couldn't tell her that, as great as she is, I don't care enough. That would have been so fucking mean, right? And it's mean because it's true.
I've never broken up with a girl before. The only girl I dated in high school dumped me, and Rachel and I didn't dump so much as mutually break up. We parted ways because that's what made sense.
I texted Peter and Lena to let them know I wasn't seeing Mel anymore, and they were sorry but not surprised. Pete asked me if I wanted to hit a baseball outside with him, so I think we're going to do that tomorrow morning. The weather is finally starting to warm up a bit, and he's been laughing a lot more. He seemed kind of sad when Lena stopped sleeping at our place, but he's been doing better. I think going to Caledon did him good.
I'm heading into class now, but hopefully I'll see you around.
Wes
. . .
from: [email protected]
subject: Re: Good to see you
sent: March 17, 2017 at 7:18pm
Weston,
I've been led to believe that breakups suck. I hardly have any experience with the subject, but I'll share the little knowledge I have to offer.
My breakup, if you could even call it that, is ancient history. I was 13 years old, and he was 15; the brother of a friend. Well, we weren't friends, exactly. I didn't really have friends until Simon. However, at lunch, I always sat with a few pretty girls in school. I can't remember what we had in common, aside from good hair and nice teeth. Those girls had money and giggled about our teacher's sweat stains.
One girl from the lunch table had an older brother, Felix, who was meagrely cute and persistent in asking me to go out with him. He used to rollerblade outside my mother's hovel and come by Slice and Scoop to watch me work the cash register, all while pestering me for a date.
Eventually, I said yes. One night, when I was wiping down a table towards closing, he handed me a carnation and told me that he wanted to take me to the movies on Saturday night. It had been over a year since I'd been to a movie theatre. We didn't have one in my part of town, and I was too careful with money to pay for the bus and a movie ticket. Felix was offering all of that plus popcorn. Whatever, color me an opportunist.
I wore a dress I took from my mother's closet and my own shoes because her sandals were too big. I must have looked so odd in a dress that was far too fancy for the movies and my mud-stained sneakers. I guess you could say I was a little excited.
Felix also fucked with the dress code. He wore a tie (a clip-on, but still), and pressed pants. His dad drove us to the theatre and picked us up after the movie ended. Every few minutes he'd ask me if I was having fun. I was too anxious to have fun, but I liked that he asked. It was sweet how much he seemed to like me, so I smiled and held his hand while we stood in line for tickets.
Felix played soccer, and he knew a lot about teams from Europe. I asked him if he'd ever seen a game in person. He hadn't, but he told me about how someday he'd play on one of those teams.
Then, he asked me if I'd ever been to Europe, which I loved. Now, looking back, I'm certain he asked out of blind stupidity. But at the time, I thought it was nice of him to throw me that bone. He'd seen my mother's house; the thing wasn't worth the price of a plane ticket.
Right before the movie started, Felix tried to kiss me. I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth before he could, so he settled for putting an awkward arm around my shoulders. He smiled the whole time.
It was because of that smile, and the fact that he didn't try to kiss me again that night, that I said yes when he asked me to go out with him again.
I wore my own clothes for our second date; I considered myself a pro, and figure I'd earned my own uniform.
We played poker and video games in his basement, and he made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. During one game of poker, a game in which I kicked his ass, I caught him looking at me instead of the cards.
"Cassie," he started, visibly nervous. "Are we like, together?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Are you my girlfriend?"
"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"
"Yes," he said with no hesitation.
"Then sure, okay."
And that was that. He waited by my locker. We hung out in his basement. I let him kiss me.
We 'dated' for about three months before I broke up with him. He was pretty angry with me. He even called me a bitch---which was very out of character for Felix. I tried not to take it too personally. He was young and horny. Sorry, emotional not horny. Well, probably both.
I really didn't learn very much from the experience, except that people are more concerned with their ego than they are with their hearts. Also, things end, and we need to be okay with them ending. I don't think that's helpful until you're outside of it, though.
I liked seeing you at the library, too. I was worried that meeting in person would compromise our professionalism but talking to you was a lot like emailing. You're just as nice, smart, and funny as you are in your writing. Or, as you would have put it, benevolent, astute, and jocular.
You really don't need to try so hard to impress me, Wes. You would know if I didn't like you.
My little tirade about keeping things to email isn't based on you or anything you could do differently. It's simply about our work together. I'm still using our emails to for my character research. We can both enjoy the process, because I honestly do, but we need to have boundaries and rules. The library was a coincidence, so it was okay, but if we were to become "friends who hang out" we could endanger our rapport.
Maybe we could discuss it after I'm done with the book?
Cassie
. . .
from: [email protected]
subject: Graduation
sent: March 18, 2017 at 11:54am
Cass,
Felix sounds like a loser, and I can see why you dumped him.
Thanks for sharing that story with me. Luckily, things haven't been so bad. Post-breakup life has been uneventful. No angry texts or teary phone calls. Actually, Mel and I ran into each other at the gym this morning, and we had a short and polite conversation. Maybe not all breakups need to end in name-calling.
I just got home from an appointment with Jared Yi. He's my career counsellor, and we spent the hour talking about teacher's college. I applied last semester, and I got waitlisted at a couple of schools, but it doesn't look like I'm getting in anywhere I applied. It's mostly my fault for only going after big-name schools, but it still fucking sucks.
Anyway, I still like meeting with Jared. He's a lot nicer than the woman who referred me to him. Jared is a positive person. He thinks I should take another year at Bader, or spend some time working with kids.
I haven't told anybody about this yet, not even Peter... but there is another option for me. Two different teams have expressed an interest in me for rookie camp.
I can't believe it, Cass.
If you don't already know, rookie camp is kind of like a tryout for NHL potentials, and it's a pretty big deal. It doesn't start until September, so I have a lot of time to figure it out, but Boston and Edmonton both want me to come meet with the coaches after exams. It doesn't guarantee an NHL career or anything, but it's definitely a good sign.
I haven't told anybody yet. It doesn't feel real. I think it seems more like a pipe dream than an actual option. Writing it down for you makes it feel more solid, but the idea is still pretty crazy. When Glover, my coach here at Bader, called me in for a meeting, I thought it was about Peter, or maybe spring training. He told me about Edmonton and Boston, and I sat there for about six hours trying to wrap my head around it. You and Glover are the only ones who know, (I remember how much you like feeling special) so try to keep it quiet for me, okay?
Logically, I should probably accept a spot if I get an official offer to play in September. I could try taking Jared's suggestions, but there's a chance that I'll end up in the same position this time next year without another chance with hockey. A lot of the rookies are 18 and 19 years old, so I should be grateful that they're willing to look at me now, you know?
I guess nothing is for sure at this point.
It's just, I feel like I just started getting used to how things are. Waking up early, going to the gym, hanging out with Peter, working, training, studying, going out, and then writing to you about it all. I've just gotten the hang of it.
Now I'm expected to leave it all behind and figure out an entirely new life? It's fucking terrifying. I mean, I could make the wrong choice and completely screw myself. Or even worse, maybe there is no right choice and I've already peaked.
You once asked me about my insecurities. My response was pretty shitty, but if you read between the lines, I'm sure you'll see every single insecurity I have to offer. I feel lost. No matter which direction I choose, I still won't have a clue where I'm going.
Wes
. . .
from: [email protected]
subject: Re:Graduation
sent: March 18, 2017 at 10:07pm
Weston,
You couldn't have found a worse person from whom to ask advice. If you're looking for answers about being lost, I recommend asking someone who knows what it's like to be found.
You should ask someone who has even an ounce of security. Not me. I've never felt remotely certain about my future, or even my present. Even now, with good things happening in my life, I'm very aware that I lack control in what happens to me and where I end up when it's all over.
Sometimes, I feel as though I've never had a chance to enjoy being alive properly. As a kid, I had no choice in anything. I went where my mother wanted to go. I read the books my teachers handed me. I cleaned the slushie machine when my boss told me to clean it (which was very rarely, those machines are disgusting, don't ever order a slushy.) And now that I'm not a child anymore, I don't need permission from anybody to do things.
But that doesn't mean I have control.
Simon and Sarah are ready to move on and start their lives together. It isn't even about the wedding. They can see what they want from their lives: marriage, children, a house, fancy office careers, family camping trips, and Hank. It isn't all planned out, but there's a future there.
And most of the time, I feel like I'm just watching them from next door wondering how the fuck this happened so fast. I don't think I'll be forgotten; I trust Simon, and Sarah actually, to bring me along. I'm simply not ready to go anywhere.
Everything about growing up freaks me the fuck out. I'm uncomfortable with my reflection as it is, I'm not ready to see her age. Maybe this is silly and dramatic, but I feel like you might understand what I'm trying to say. I can't stop change and I dislike that I'm at the mercy of a timeline, and a life, that's so out of my hands.
In one of her many motivational spiels, Julie told me how wonderful it is to have a future as blank as a sheet of clean paper waiting for an author.
But come on Wes, we know better. We don't always get to be the one who writes the story.
Cass