Free Vivienne's Guilt by Heather M. Orgeron

get through the day, you know?”
    “All right. Well, I wish you the best, Vivienne. With time, it will get easier. You hang in there and enjoy that sweet girl of yours,” he says as he writes out the prescription on his little pad. “I’d like to see you back here in two or three months to touch base. Of course, you can come sooner if you feel like you need it.”
    “Thank you so much, Doctor,” I respond, taking the prescription from his hand. “And thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

    I pull up to the house, admiring the scenery. We have a long winding drive lined with oak trees that form a canopy overhead. The front and side yards have a few large oaks as well. The largest is to the left of the house and my personal favorite. Abbott recently hung a tire swing for Tillie from one of its thick, mossy branches.
    I chuckle to myself at the memory of him trying to get the cable up and over that branch. He’d tied a small brick to one end, and it took forever for him to get enough oomph to make it. I remember heckling him about his throwing arm, and when he finally got it over he did his stupid little victory dance. Anyone who knows Abbott has witnessed it. It was just this silly little cross between the Carlton and the running man. It used to embarrass the hell out of me, but now...now I would give anything to see him do that godawful dance just one more time.
    My mind drifts to the first time I ever saw Abbott’s moves...It was only a few weeks after the Halloween frat party. Abbott and I were sort of an unofficial couple. We did everything together. I’d even started attending his football games on Friday nights. They’d just won against their biggest rival, and Abbott made the game-winning touchdown.
    “Come on, Cass. I want to get to the house before the guys make it back,” I urge.
    “I’m coming, Vivienne. I need to be ‘fuck me’ hot. The place will be swarming with all sorts of football player yumminess!” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “What’s the deal with you and Abbott, anyway? Are the two of you together...officially, yet?” she asks while applying another layer of mascara to her lashes.
    “He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend or anything. Do guys still do that? I don’t know what we are. I just know whatever’s going on...it’s really good, Cass. It’s so much more than anything I’ve ever had with a guy.”
    “Well...let’s go. What are you waiting for? We need to get to this party before one of those skanky cheerleader bitches gets her claws into your man!”
    I shake my head at my best friend and grab my purse and keys as we head out of the door.

    It takes a few trips around the block before we find an empty spot to park. Cassie and I have to do some serious walking to get to the house. We somehow arrive just before the guys all show up, and thankfully only have to hang out with the frat bitches for a few minutes.
    When the players walk in, their fight song is blaring through the speakers and everyone cheers and rushes to greet them.
    Everyone but me. I just hang back and observe.
    The smell of beer permeates my senses as the cheerleaders pass out overflowing Solo cups to the team. I look on as they hang all over the guys. Sluts.
    Finally, I spot Abbott in the center of a crowd of people chanting his name and push my way through the gaggle of girls to find my man. At least, I think he’s my man. I hope he is...
    What is he doing?
    Oh my God...he is quite possibly the worst dancer I have ever seen. He’s got the attention of the whole room, and where I would, no doubt, die from embarrassment, he just eats it up. He’s shaking his hips and doing some running man thing with his legs. I can’t even...
    And then he spots me and crooks his finger toward me.
    I shake my head, laughing.
    He continues motioning for me to join him and then mouths the word “please” while poking his bottom lip out. I can’t leave him hanging, so against my better judgment, I