not very good.....


Fate. Does it actually exist? I mean the type where if two people are truly meant to be together, they’ll be together no matter what. No, I’m not talking about Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty. That’s not fate, it’s just made up little stories to make you believe that there’s going to be someone for you. I mean real fate. Where no matter how hard you try to run from it, it’ll always be there. Where no matter how hard you try to hide from it, it will always find you. Stalker-ish? A bit. But my thoughts waver from this unimportant fact to the one that will always haunt me. Prepare the horrifying music.

“Breathe, Callie. Simply breathe.” she told herself as she sat amongst a group of people she hardly knew. Still unsure of her reason for coming, she mixed the drink in her hand with a straw. Around her, there was laughter from middle-aged men and women with nothing better to do than come to a Starbucks on a Friday night for their singles meeting.
“Now what does this say about you?” she asked mockingly as she surveyed the room for someone not in their 40’s.
“I admit it. I am a loser.” she realized, forcing the straw to the bottom of the cup in agony.
“So I told the girl, “You’re only 21? By all means!”” There was laughter throughout their group as some lonely man had finished his first tale. They all did this. Well, the ones who were smart enough not to tell the truth about their love lives. She sympathized with them, knowing that one day, she’d be in their same position. Frustrated and unwilling to allow herself to fall into the rut known as self pity, she got up from her lumpy chair and strolled out into the evening air. She looked down at my drink. Almost gone.
“Just two more months,” she reminded herself. “Just a few more months and you’ll be headed for college without any worries.” She checked her watch. In exactly 24 hours she’d be at her friend’s house, discussing their high school careers and such.
“First thing on my to-do-list at college,” she prompted. “is to get a life.”
“Oh my gosh! Remember your first boyfriend, Callie?” Becky shrieked giddily, remembering the thought. Callie cringed in her spot on the sofa as she continued. “I can‘t believe you liked him.”
“Oh yeah? And what about your’s?” Callie snapped back a little too defensively. “Look where that got you.” Becky took a deep sigh as Laura decided to handle Callie’s attitude toward the attack upon her former boyfriend.
“You still like him, don’t you?” Laura questioned as Callie took another chug of pixie stick. Some habits die hard. That, or never die at all.
“No, I’m just not thrilled about the fact that I will never be able to like a guy, much less have a relationship, after what he did to me,” she explained.
“Come on, Callie,” Becky whined. “It was eighth grade. Let it go.”
“And where am I now? I didn’t have a crush all throughout high school,” I reminded her.
“What about that one guy in freshman year?” Laura offered.
“Jerk. Total jerk.” Callie reminded her.
“That one guy junior year…Rob?” Becky questioned. Callie’s face took on a sour expression.
“You think I liked him?” she questioned. “Are you two really my best friends?” Laura shook her head.
“Becky, Rob was the guy who stalked Callie. Remember?” After a few moments, an enlightened look came to Becky’s face.
“Oh yeah!” she exclaimed, proud of her findings within her own mind. “Definitely not.”
“And senior year just wasn’t even worth a crush,” Callie finished.
“What about that guy in sixth grade that you liked?” Laura paused. “Landon?”
“Moved away to never be heard from again,” Callie informed her.
“What about the guy in second grade? What was his name…” Becky and Laura became deep in concentration.
“Adam. His name was Adam.” Becky and Laura turned to Callie with thankful faces.
“That’s right! The guy whose brother said you’d be married within twenty years!” Becky joked.
“Yeah,” Callie replied. “If only he could see me now.” They laughed.
“Eighteen,” Laura offered nicely, like any good friend would.
“Single,” Becky put bluntly.
“And it sure doesn’t look like it’s getting any better!” Callie finished off. They clanged their soda cans together then chugged it down, occasionally making a comment about someone from their class and where the girls thought they were headed. Callie knew where she was headed, and it didn’t look like roses and Valentine’s cards.