This Misery Does Not Love Your Company, FYI
We’d agreed to meet in Hudson’s room to study. One, because I didn’t want an audience for this conversation and I knew Serena would want to be there, camera at the ready. And two, because it was easier to walk away than it was to ask him to leave, in so many ways.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a pit in my stomach over this. I didn’t want to end things with Hudson, but I had to. I’d gotten in too deep and broken all my rules. What we’d had was fun. It was supposed to stay fun. It was supposed to stay easy, not get in the way of everything else going on in my life … but it did and now it had to end.
Hudson’s head was down, my notebook rested in his lap. I watched him as he ran a finger over the words I’d written, reading them. Checking for any mistakes.
“You know, when I’m in Paris, I don’t think … you know, we need to be…” I motioned between us, using it as the end of the sentence.
Hudson narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think we need to be…?”
“Like, a thing,” I said, not wanting to use the word couple. Or boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Or relationship. Not wanting any of those words.
He sat up straight, his palms pressed into the bed. “Are you preemptively breaking up with me?” he asked, his eyes shining in the soft light of his room. He bit at his bottom lip, holding back a smile.
I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it before I could say something stupid. I shook my head, trying to sort my thoughts.
“Oh my God,” he said, pulling back. His face falling. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Hudson, I just thought—”
His eyebrows knitted together before I could finish my sentence. “You thought what? That this thing between us was going to stay cool, as you put it?” he said, using air quotes.
“Hudson, no.” I pushed out of the chair and stood in front of him. “I still need you. I still need help—”
“Why am I even helping you, Edie?” he asked, tossing my notebook toward me. “So you can leave the country and not think about me again until you return?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, though it was kind of what I’d meant, but also he was absolutely getting in the way of me passing French when he was meant to get me through it.
He pressed his fingers into his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. “Don’t do this, Edie,” he said, taking another deep breath before looking up at me.
“Hudson, I—”
“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”
I closed my eyes. Maybe it didn’t have to be all or nothing, but it had to be over.
“I still want to see you. I don’t want this to be over.”
I crossed my arms, holding myself together. I didn’t want it to be over, either, not really, but I had other priorities. There was no way I was going to let myself make Hudson a priority over all the things I’d worked so hard to achieve.
“You knew it would be like this,” I started to say, stopping when Hudson pushed off the bed. “And we aren’t breaking up, I mean, we aren’t even really together.”
He crossed his arms. “What do you mean we aren’t really together? And be like what? That you would fall for me and then run away? No, actually I didn’t know it would be like that.”
I shook my head. That wasn’t what I’d meant. Sure, I’d fallen for him, but in my head, there was always an end date. A time stamp. “I don’t have time for this, Hudson. I need to pass the final, and I need you to help me. This is why I didn’t want a boyfriend.… This is why I told you that I just needed you as a tutor.”
He let his head fall back, his eyes on the ceiling. “You’ve been using me,” he said with a realization that overtook him. He righted his head, any glimmer in his eyes gone.
“I never used you,” I said, my finger pointed in his direction. I took a deep breath before I spoke again. “I’m sorry if it came off that way.”
“I get why you’re pushing me away right now, but it doesn’t have to be like this—”
I put my hand up to stop him. “Hudson, I don’t have time for conversations like this, either.”
He took a step back, his forehead scrunched. “Are you serious right now?” he asked, his voice rising.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he jumped in.
“You don’t have time to talk to me about something you brought up? Something that’s your issue, not mine? Edie, this is bullshit.”
I picked at my cardigan, dropping mustard yellow puffs to the floor.
“Just tell me what’s really going on, please?”
I shook my head. What was really going on was that I didn’t want to regret going to Paris. I didn’t want anything holding me back. I didn’t want to split my time between my dream and a boy.
“This is how it is,” I said, taking my notebook off the bed and putting it into my bag. “My priority is to pass this class and go to Paris.” I hiked my tote onto my shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon.”
* * *
I’d slept an exhausted sleep. A sleep that only comes after you’ve been broken down past the point of no return. I slept a sleep that didn’t refresh me. I slept a sleep that left me filled with dread that only deepened when I woke. Dread I’d brought on myself. The conversation with Hudson hadn’t ended when I left his room. He’d texted me twice, both times trying to justify why we should stay together. Telling me that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he would be there for me when I came around. The problem was that I had no intention of coming around.
I walked into class just as it started. I was no longer going to show up ten minutes early. I walked to the front of the classroom and set the transmitter on the table, not bothering to look at either Dr. Clément or Hudson. I hated that I still needed him. I hated that I was teetering on a D and needed every moment of this lecture. I hated that I could feel his eyes on me.
I slid into my seat, taking a deep breath as I pulled out my notebook and slipped the earpiece onto my ear.
“I miss you,” he whispered.
I kept my eyes on my desk and shook my head.
“Edie, I—”
I pulled the earpiece out of my ear and dropped it on my desk. I couldn’t listen to him. I couldn’t do this.
I needed at least a sixty-five on the final to pass the class. That sixty-five may as well have been a hundred at this rate. I felt less confident than ever, and the pressure was on full force. I no longer had the luxury of studying with the TA. I no longer had the luxury of knowing someone had my back, either.
I stayed in my seat as the room cleared. I needed to get the transmitter back, and I felt like such a fool. This was more embarrassing than anything that had happened to me in middle school. This was worse than any teasing that was dished out by my classmates.
Hudson set the transmitter on my desk, and I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want him to see me, either.
“Edie, just—can we talk?” he pleaded.
“I warned you,” I said, finally looking into his eyes. He looked like he’d slept the same exhausted sleep as me. He looked like he’d been through hell. He was disheveled in all the worst ways. He wasn’t even wearing his maroon beanie. His shirt was wrinkled. He was in sweatpants. Actual athletic sweatpants.
He took a step back so that I could pass him. His eyes begging for me to reconsider. I held it together until I was out of the building, but couldn’t keep the tears from coming once I was in the light of day.
Only five more French classes until the semester ended. Only five more interactions with him. Only five more heartbreaks.
Paris, Paris, Paris, I reminded myself.