Free Someday You'll Laugh by Brenda Maxfield

humiliating.”
    “Wasn’t the whole point to get caught?” Colleen asked.
    Melinda blew out her breath from puffed cheeks. “I suppose it was. Well, it didn’t work. He smiled and said he wasn’t going to get involved with anyone. Then he asked about you.”
    My spine stiffened. “What? Me?”
    “Yes, you. So there it is. My big fat backfired plan.”
    “What did he ask?”
    “Who you were. What you were studying. Stuff like that.”
    “Oh fine. Isn’t that simply marvelous?”
    Melinda gazed up toward the ceiling. “Yes, it is. It is marvelous. He’s fine.”
    Colleen slid off the bed. “Broken heart here, Melinda. Focus.”
    I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “No. I’m okay.” I got up, rolled my head and heard my joints snap. I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Come on, is the cafeteria still serving?”
    “Till nine,” Colleen said.
    The three of us headed over for dinner. I shut the door. In my mind’s eye, I saw Paul’s teetering stack of notes sitting alone on my empty bed.
    ****
    I plunged even more deeply into my education classes. They kept me sane. I did my homework at the library instead of in my room, and I no longer walked through the main dorm entrance where my mailbox was. I entered through the side door and circled around the long way. If anyone else had sent me mail, I wouldn’t know. I never checked.
    The weather worsened. We hauled out our heavy coats and scarves. One Friday afternoon in November, I walked downtown with Colleen to buy snow boots. The frozen air made my cheeks sting, and I smirked.
    “Frozen air, frozen heart.”
    Colleen rolled her eyes. “Come on, Brenda. It’s been weeks. Give it up already.”
    Her impatient tone shocked me. I stopped walking and pulled on her arm to make her stop, too.
    She looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry.”
    “No, you’re right. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve been a sorry mess for weeks. It’s time.”
    Her brows crinkled in sympathy. “We’re friends. You can moan as long as you want.”
    “No, you’re right. It’s time to be done. Done. He’s gone and I need to move on.”
    We started walking again. Colleen nudged me with her elbow. “But it’s Paul, Brenda. You can’t be done.”
    I laughed at her waffling. “Colleen. I can’t have it both ways. So, I’ve decided. I’m done.”
    If I said the words loud enough and often enough maybe I’d believe them.
    But she was right the second time. It was Paul. I’d never be done.
    ****
    Colleen and I both sported brand new snow boots on our way back to campus. As we neared the dorm, Colleen automatically went toward the front entrance. I paused and hung back.
    She stopped. “Oh, yeah. We’ll go around to the side entrance.”
    “No. No, we’re going in this way. I’m done, remember?” I marched resolutely toward the front door, my new boots stiff around my ankles. Blisters were probably already forming. I wrenched open the heavy glass doors and walked through. There were turkey cutouts announcing a Thanksgiving dance all over the bulletin board. I sighed. Thanksgiving was only a week away, and I hadn’t given it a thought.
    I supposed Scott would drive me home again if I paid him.
    I approached the bulletin board. “You going to this dance?”
    Colleen joined me. “Probably. You want to go?”
    “Is Melinda going?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Then we should make it a threesome. Sure, I’ll go.”
    I moved away from the bulletin board and faced the mailboxes. I took a deep breath and looked through the tiny window of Box 152. Crammed full. I keyed in my combination, and the little door clunked open. I grabbed the pile of letters and fliers.
    “You don’t have to go through everything if you don’t want to. I could do it for you.”
    I swallowed. “No, it’s fine.” I skimmed through the pile. Four letters from my mom and a good chunk of adverts from restaurants trying to entice students. “Hey, I got a turkey flier about the dance.”
    I walked to the metal garbage can