Brrrrr.

Ignoring my buzzing phone, I cuddled up closer to John on the couch in their suite's common area. Devin was seated beside him and we were watching a documentary on countercultures for their class on the political culture in the US in the 1960s. From what I gathered, there had been a lot of drugs involved, and those who hadn't done drugs had been high on Jesus. To each their own, I guessed, but it did leave me wondering if young people in the 60s had to be for or against something and couldn't do their own thing. Sure, I had opinions on politics and society, but I imagined it would be exhausting to be reduced to nothing but being a member of a movement with exactly one concern, be it rebirth or peace or whatever. And ugh, now I was realizing how privileged I sounded in my own head. Maybe having opinions was their own thing.

Brrrrr.

Brrrrr.

"God, your phone's blowing up," mumbled John and with my head on his shoulder, his mouth was close to my ear. "Could it be important?"

I sighed and sat up while I pulled my cell from my back pocket and woke up the screen. Liam: 3 unread text messages, it read. Brrrrr. Liam: 4 unread text messages.

Liam? What did he want? Was he in some sort of trouble? It was 11-ish pm, after all.

Liam: I can't believe you dumped me for John

Liam: Scratch that, I can't believe you dumped me period

Liam: Let's talk this out

Liam: I'm at Four Cows

Me: Are you drunk??

Liam: Maybe a little buzzed

Liam: I miss you

Liam: Come down

I looked up and at John who turned his head to meet my eye.

"What is it? Do you need to go take care of it?"

Do I? "I don't know." In the meantime, Devin paused the video. I knew they needed to watch it and I didn't want to bother John to come along.

"Apparently Liam is drunk-texting me and wants me to come down to Four Cows."

His eyebrows creased. "What? I thought he wasn't a heavy drinker."

"So did I. It kind of worries me."

"Grace," John warned. "Don't let him suck you into this. He's a big boy and if he can get himself into trouble, he can get himself out."

"It's just—" I sighed in frustration with myself. "He isn't putting me on the spot on purpose."

"That is 100% what he's doing. And if you're thinking about going, it's already working." The calmness in his voice was unusual when it came to Liam, but not unwelcome..

"Devin, any thoughts?" I started chewing on the skin around my thumbnail before John gently pulled at my elbow to make me stop.

Devin held up his hands in defense, eyes still fixating the screen. "Literally. do not know the guy."

Brrrrr.

Liam: Please Grace

Me: Only to make sure you get yourself home safely

"Please don't be mad at me." I kissed John on the cheek and stood up to get my boots.

"I'm not mad at you," John sighed. "I don't get why you keep letting him manipulate you even now, still. If anything, I'm mad at him. He knows what he's doing to you."

"He could walk on water and you'd still be unimpressed," I objected while I put on my knit hat and winter coat.

"But he isn't walking on water, is he? All he's doing is making you feel bad for breaking up with him, something he'd had coming for a long time, by the way."

We needed to have this conversation, it had been the elephant in the room for months, but I wouldn't have it in passing.

"I gotta go, let's talk about this soon and not with your roommate in the midst of it, okay? No offense, Devin." Devin waved his hand dismissively. "Can you promise you're not mad at me before I go?"

John stood and closed the distance between us. He pulled my beanie further down my forehead and kissed me on the lips.

"I'm not mad at you," he whispered, "I promise. And for the record, the only reason I'm not asking to come along is because I know you wouldn't let me, not because I don't care."

"I know. I'm sorry for breaking up movie night."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Not your class anyway. Now go if you want to go, but text me when you get there and when you're getting ready to head back, okay? I don't like you walking through the dark alone, or with a drunk ex. And call me if you want me to come down there."

"I will." I kissed him again, storing as many warm butterflies as I could before emerging into the cold night.

***

Arriving at Four Cows, I convinced the bouncer that I was not going to drink, but was only picking up a friend. I had to swear on all that's holy I would be in and out and wouldn't so much as touch a glass. I knew he could get into real trouble if I were caught drinking underage, but this negotiation was inconvenient when I had somewhere to be. And anyway, I was turning 21 in June.

When I entered the dimly-lit bar room, my eyes scanned the area for Liam. It was crowded, as if it weren't a weeknight, and the air was stuffy with sweat and alcohol. The two bartenders were in a rush to fulfill all customers' drink requests and a person had held up the workflow by spilling some clear liquid on the bar table. Raking my eyes through the crowd, I vaguely recognized some college students, spotted a teammate of John's to whom I waved, then finally found Liam on a stool in the corner of the red brick wall over by the window facing the street. He himself was facing the wall and the shambles of his life, one could have thought. His body language screamed disillusionment. His shoulders were sunk, his whole torso was slumped forward, his hair tousled, and he was holding an almost empty beer glass of dark brown brew.

"Liam," I called when I approached him.

He turned around and, for the briefest moment, seemed surprised to see me before he remembered he had asked me to come. His eyes were glazed and his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the heat. He then turned back around and took another swig from his glass.

I rolled my eyes. Had he wanted me to come so he could show me how little he needed me?

"Liam, let's go." I had to yell over the loud laughter of a group across the room.

The air was even stuffier now, a minute into it, and I was getting very hot very fast, but there was no way in hell I was taking off my coat. When he still didn't respond, I grew irritated.

"You know, I don't have to be here. I can leave right now, and that's what I'm going to do unless you get off your butt and pay your tab right this second."

To my astonishment, Liam turned around on his barstool and looked straight at me with jaundiced eyes.

"Were you ever in it with me? Like, had you ever planned for our relationship to be real or was I just someone to pass the time?" His enunciation was off already. It sounded like he was trying to talk with a handful of cotton balls in his mouth.

"Get up," I pressed between my teeth.

He did and thankfully followed me outside after practically throwing a $10 bill at the bartender. Wow, getting absolutely wasted on 10 bucks—he could win the lightweight championships.

Outside, I instructed the bouncer not to let him inside again that night. I had heard that state law required bars to make sure people that didn't leave too drunk and that they wouldn't operate a motor vehicle. I didn't know if it was true, but I was counting on either that or the cooperation of the security guard.

"You knew how I felt," hissed Liam once we had put enough distance between us and the tavern.

"I'm not here to discuss this again. I said everything I needed to say. I'm taking you back to your room and that's it."

"I didn't get to say what I needed to say."

Of course he'd lured me down here under a false pretense. Then again, he had said in his text that he wanted to talk things out, but I had assumed he might be too drunk to even remember, let alone carry out a full-on confrontation. When I stayed silent, Liam erroneously took it as an invitation to continue.

"We went to parties when you wanted to, we stayed in when you wanted to, we watched that goofy Brooklyn Nine-Nine because you wanted to, we took things almost excruciatingly slowly because you wanted to—what else could I have done, Grace? Did I ever stand a chance against the Great John Jay?"

This had been a terrible idea. John had been so right. I avoided Liam's eyes like you were supposed to do with a dog so it left you alone, stuffed my hands deeper into my coat pockets, and quickened my pace. I was fully willing to burst into a jog and leave him behind if necessary. Some students passed us on the sidewalk, heading into town, probably to pick up where Liam had left off. The air was crisp and I could see the clouds of breath in front of us. We were already halfway up the hill. The brisk walk back to Liam's house would only be another 5 minutes. I hoped he would allow the tense-but-relieving silence to remain until then, but of course, no such luck.

"I told you I loved you, Grace."

The accusing tone he sported struck a chord with me, even though—or maybe because—he was under the influence, and I couldn't bite my tongue any longer.

"I didn't ask you to," I snapped. "And I'm sorry you feel like shit, I am. But you also pulled garbage moves on me. Bottom line is, it wasn't working, and me coming to this realization late doesn't change that fact. That's the truth."

"The truth, huh? Then tell me truthfully: when did you first cheat on me?"

I stopped in my tracks as if I had hit an invisible wall. He had raised his voice, and the conversation within the group of sophomore girls passing us had died down abruptly. They slowed their step and looked at us curiously now, eager to catch more of the show. At that moment I was glad the street was only dimly lit. The last thing I wanted was to be marked a cheater within college society, or any society, for that matter.

My patience was wearing thin, but I waited until the nosey TFBs had maneuvered themselves and their Timberland boots and L.L.Bean beanies out of earshot until I responded sharply: "I never cheated on you."

Astonished at how matter-of-factly I sounded, I took a step backward. We had now reached the Adirondack Circle. I spontaneously decided that this was where we would part ways. To the left, across the road dividing the campus, was Proctor dining hall and behind that, some more dorm houses including Liam's. To the right was the Ross dining hall and dorm complex.

"I don't believe you," Liam insisted.

"You know what, Liam? I'm starting to think I don't give a shit. I can't make you believe me, and I won't beg for it, either. So why don't you stumble back to your room and don't text me again."

With that, I turned on my heel and stormed back to John's suite. I let myself in with his keycode, took off my coat and boots, and plopped down on the couch where the guys had reached what seemed to be the ending of their documentary.

John glanced over at me, assessing my mood and trying to piece together how it had gone.

"You were right about everything you predicted," I growled. He could save his breath.

It was at this moment that John Jay proved truegreatness: instead of any version of 'Itold you so', he slung a comforting arm around my shoulder and kissed mytemple before he turned back toward the screen.