I Guess I Have a Week

With an immense amount of anticipation, I was finally finished with classes last Friday. Unfortunately, the weather was pretty shitty so I decided to go home and do laundry/clean. 

"What are you all doing tonight? Are you going to the concert?" I asked Rachel, Bitta, and Garrison. Jordan went home for the weekend, but the other three stayed. Since it was Halloween, I figured that they also had fun plans. 

"We're going to the concert!" they responded. Last year, Halloween rocked our little college town, so this year our Associated Students planned a concert in order to offer students an alternative to the mess. The main artist was Young the Giant (one of my absolute favorite bands) so I was obviously going as well. 

I love Halloween, but it always catches me off guard, so, like many years prior, I threw a last-minute costume together. This year, I was a black cat... aka: black skirt, crop top, cat ears, and drawn on whiskers. Yeah I know, pretty basic. 

Well, it started pouring right before I biked to my friends' house at the Deck. Holding my head down the entire way, I was still soaked within five minutes of biking as fast as I could. 

"I can't believe you actually came over here," Mali proclaimed as I sopped through the doorway. 

"Well, the rain surely changed my outfit. I was going to be a cat... but now I'm just a wet puss!" I joked, taking the rain light-heartedly. 

Slapping on warm layers of alcohol and raincoats, we booked it to the concert. I ended up losing everyone I walked over with, but I had the greatest time. This was by far one of my favorite performances ever; I was dancing and singing to myself the entire time. Once it was over, I decided to walk home on my own because I couldn't find anyone I knew. 

I could outrun or beat the shit out of him if I really tried, I reassured myself every once in a while. Walking home alone at 1:30am is not a fun (or safe) thing, but I was sober enough to be able to handle myself. 

Around 12 on Saturday, Mikey and Quincy picked me up to head down south for our surf competition on Sunday. 

"Thank you so much for taking me, Mikey," I said again as I jumped into the backseat. 

"Of course! Do you know where you're staying tonight?"

"I'm just playing it by ear to be honest," I laughed.

"Well you're welcome to crash wherever we end up." It's like he just handed me a ticket to bang right then and there. 

About halfway into the drive, I really needed to pee, so I asked if we could stop shortly. About fifteen minutes after that, I REALLY needed to pee, so I asked how far the In-n-Out we were going to was. Basically, it was too far for me to handle (I can't hang when it comes to the bathroom--I have to pee all the time). 

"Okay well I will actually pee my pants by then. At this point I don't even care if I have to squat it out on the side of the road," I professed my pain.

They laughed at me. This was not a time to laugh. 

"You think I'm kidding, but I am going to pee my fucking pants!" I half-laughed along with them. 

Mikey made a four-lane switch (props) and we pulled into a gas station. But, THEIR BATHROOM WAS OUT OF ORDER. I ran out of the convenience store, right to some ghetto alley, where I squatted my little heart out. (Lady-like, I know.) I was so relieved that I think I masked my embarrassment fairly well, thank goodness. 

Once we found our friend's address, we received news that no one was there. Feeling like a jacuzzi-sesh, the three of us snuck into the beachside Marriott down the street. The hotel had a rooftop pool and hot-tub, so I was able to show off my killer bod to Mikey (lol jk, it was way definitely the other way around). 

The next day, we hung out at the competition all day. I ended up doing really well, placing fourth overall in the women's division. After everything was done, we packed up and got on the road. Quincy gave me shotgun, and DJed from the backseat. 

"Sooo... when did you two want to get In-n-Out?" I asked Mikey and Quincy a few hours into our drive. We had agreed that would be our "tradition," and I was perfectly fine with that. I inhaled my double-double (protein style... I'm not that bad), so at least it is out in the open that I am comfortable with that. 

Finally, we made it back, and Mikey dropped Quincy off first. As we pulled out from the driveway, Mikey broke the silence.

"So, now what are we going to do since we don't have a contest for two months?"

Yay!!! Glad to not be the annoying tag-along in the car ride, and feeling appreciated as a member of the group, I responded, "I don't know, but I am down for some road trips or adventures!"

He then brought up how he wants to camp in the local mountains (they are pretty small and low-key), so I made it known that he better invite me.

Trips like this, even as short as it was, are so refreshing to me. I was in a killer mood all of yesterday. As I was making baked sweet potato fries, my phone kept tweeting from the coffee table. 

"Dang, someone's popular," Jordan joked. 

I giggled at her joke and replied, "Ugh seriously. Who the hell is blowing me up?"

"Shit," she had picked up my phone.

"What??"

"Well Steph texted you a few times, but Kevin just texted you."

"Wait, what the hell did he say?" I hadn't been ignoring or icing him, but since we last talked, I haven't been putting any effort into texting him or responding to his (few) snapchats. 

Kevin said that he was meeting with the coach next Tuesday, and asked if I would care to grab dinner or a late-lunch. I responded that I would, and turned to Jordan and Bitta.

"Well, you already know that I hate him," Jordan answered my look with complete honesty. "Even if you don't, I'll just hate him for you."

Bitta asked the more important question, "So... does this mean you are going to hookup with him?"

What a good question. For the past weekish, I haven't really given a fuck about Kevin. I am very much geared towards being 100% or 0%, so all of this half-ass "well when we are together..." kind of ticked me off. Part of me has faith that I can keep the emotional connection I felt before from flooding back. And part of me realizes that could be completely wrong, and mid-bang I'll have an (internal) emotional breakdown. This is the moment where I need to figure out if I need to slam a guard up to protect myself, or if I can enjoy the situation for what it has been established to be. 

Sensing my deep confusion, Bitta carried on, "Well, I guess you have a week to figure it out!"