I never really bought into the whole living for the weekend thing until recently. Once upon a time I faked that I did. The same way most high school students fake things to fit in. I would surround myself with others who would go through the motions of commitments–school, sports, jobs– during the week and then spend their entire weekends getting crossfaded and stumbling back through their bedroom windows, tucking themselves snuggly into their butterfly bedspread before their families woke up.

I did those things too, but out of necessity to fill time, to make sure I was constantly surrounded by others. To force myself to pretend I had it all together, when I was slowly crumbling inside. But I have been looking forward to this weekend, living for this weekend for the sheer promise of having to fill no time. I get to stay in my bed, uninterrupted for hours on end, possibly the only student on this campus to do so because the other forty thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine undergrads will spend their day sweating straight alcohol from their pores at the football game.

"Do you want to go to the game together? Alyssa says, standing on the edge of the futon hanging onto the railing of my bed, bringing her face dangerously close to mine. I ignore her, and continue to look at my computer screen. One of my favorite episodes of One Tree Hill playing out in front of me. Alyssa doesn't back down, reminding me that you can never be prepared to share a room with someone if you never have before. One of us in this room has taken the challenge in strides. I, on the other hand, miss my privacy.

After the whole party debacle at my brother's, I thought we were done for. While I hid and fought off anxiety induced waterworks, she got extremely drunk on free alcohol. I ended up being a human crutch, aiding her in the rocky walk home.

I believed that was our downfall, a foreshadowing for a school year full of disagreements and tiptoeing around one another. Alyssa, however, saw it as our beginning. The mark of a true friend in waiting, the fact that I didn't leave her to find her way home alone. Little does she remember, I did try to leave her, but as she walked out of the apartment building she began walking in the wrong direction. I'm trying to start over, being a suspect of homicidal negligence isn't going to help me.

So ever since then, it's been all, "let's go get coffee together!" or "can I borrow this shirt?" It's what I picture living with Gabi would have been like. If Gabi started practicing yoga daily and snorting cocaine in between pranayama breaths. When I brought this up to Gabi in our Wednesday night phone call, however, she told me I was being a bitch and to try harder. Which, by the look on Alyssa's face, tells me she too, is waiting for me to try harder.

"Oh I don't really do the whole sports ball thing, but I hope you have fun" I say readjusting my computer so her face is blocked from view, and return to my episode. Alyssa stays frozen and I already know what she is going to say before she says it,"I'm sorry, but isn't your dad the coach? And your brother is the quarterback?"

"Yes, but the terms dad and brother are a little too confining for me." I say purposely shoveling a handful of popcorn into my mouth chewing slowly in an attempt to prolong my need to answer again.

"Are you adopted?" Alyssa says, ducking her face to the right, bringing her eyes back to mine. Her eyebrows are pulled into her hairline. Another of her fabulous qualities. Her sarcasm meter is broken or non-existent. The jury is still out. Either way, I have found myself explaining what I say so much that I have actually contemplated toning down the sarcasm, just to save myself from having to speak so much.

"No Alyssa. My dad is the coach and my brother is the quarterback" I utter.

"So shouldn't you be going to the game and sitting in club seats or something? I would if I were you." Her words are clipped. As if she shouldn't even have to ask me this question. I have had this conversation with too many people, but yet the answer isn't automatic for me. How do you put into simple words that you've spent your entire life living in the shadow of someone else, being expected to be more like them when you would rather die? Literally.

It's not that I'm not happy for my brother, but sometimes I just wish that he wasn't so perfect. I know he's worked hard for what he has, but it's more of the fact that he has been in every aspect of my life, doing the same things, but always doing them just a little bit better. Doing exactly what he was told when he was told. If my dad told my brother to jump, he would ask how high. If my dad told me to jump, I would give him a middle finger and walk away. Being here, even so close to them, was supposed to be a break from that part of my life.

"Well you're not me." I snap.

Alyssa doesn't say anything as she drops down from my railing, off the futon and moves herself away from me. Her shower caddy is in her hand and she is out the door without another look in my direction. Great Camryn, you made your roommate cry.

I hit the spacebar on my computer, freezing the frame on Lucas talking with Hailey on the roof. I grunt, out of frustration. At the situation? At myself? The line is still blurry, but I grab my phone anyways and make a phone call I have had to make too many times recently. I don't let her speak first, instead as soon as her face fills the screen I blurt, "Am I more bitch or overly sarcastic?"

"Hello to you too!" Gabi says before answering my question "the whole broody resting bitch thing works with your sarcasm." I ignore the fact that she called me both, and dive into the SparksNotes version of what happened with Alyssa. Gabi has her analysis face on, hanging onto every word, ready to divulge into an explanation for me at any moment.

"And you told her all of this kindly?" She says the last word like it belongs in air quotes. Which maybe it does. My definition of the word may differ a little from the average person. Gabi takes a few second pause, gathering her thoughts, before continuing, "Listen CP, I know how you feel about these things, but you're at a football school, the normal thing to do would be to go to a block party, watch everyone drink cheap beer and get too drunk to remember the game. So you should too, and take pictures so we can make fun of all the guys in random jerseys that make no sense. Better yet, make fun of them with Alyssa!"

"Just to be clear, you're encouraging me to watch people drink to the point of unconsciousness and then document it to make fun of them. I'll make sure to save you a seat on my one way ride to hell. Remind me never to ask you for advice again." Gabi's only response is to flick me off, and confirm my earlier question, that I actually am more bitch. But then she turns the camera back on herself, and reminds me of a promise I made to her before she pulled away, after helping me move in. Pulling me in for my last hug, she reminded me that it would be a short school year, that we would be back together again before we knew it. But then she made me promise that I would at least try to put myself out there. To enjoy my first year of college.

"This is the perfect opportunity to do that, CP. You've made it through parties at Cal's, that was a good first step. You've got this." she says before faking a tunnel and ending the call without so much as a goodbye. Not giving me my chance to rebuttal, which of course she knew was coming. I think about what my instinct is telling me. To readjust my blanket, pull it over my head creating a fort for one, but I know that's a short term solution. I take a moment to let out another grunt of frustration, this time a little louder and directly pointed at myself. I climb down from my bed. Grabbing my own shower caddy and room key I head for the bathroom to make amends with my roommate, and to do the one thing I said I wouldn't do today.

🏈🏈🏈

Seven hours later and Alyssa I have finally crossed the threshold of our room. I was at least able to convince her to leave the game early when we were winning by thirty at the end of the third quarter. Everyone else had the same idea though, creating a slow sea of bodies all traveling in the same direction at the same time. Making the not even two mile journey back to our dorm last almost an hour.

We plop down into the common area on the first floor, the only floor with air conditioning and allow ourselves a moment of cool crisp bliss. I look over to Alyssa, who is already nodding off in the red armchair next to me. Her small body easily curls up into it, like her own personal slumber pod. It really paid off that I didn't drink anything but water today because I'll avoid the heat and day drinking hangover that Alyssa will have when she wakes up from her little nap. My phone buzzes in my lap, a text from Cal filling the screen.

Cal: Dad is expecting you at dinner tonight. Unless you want him to come find you I would be there.

I throw my phone back into my lap without responding. I was afraid of this. I knew that attempting to function with my family on my terms wouldn't be easy, but my father is a man of tradition. Traditions he's not going to let me out of without a fight. My normal tactic would be to bring Gabi along as a buffer, for the simple fact that he likes her more and that he won't let it all out with a witness present. I glance over at Alyssa again, her mouth slightly open and drool starting to pool in the corner. I reach my leg across the space between us, tapping her awake with my foot. "Hey Alyssa, do you want to go to dinner with my dad?" I ask. 

She springs up as if she weren't just dead to the world a millisecond earlier and is already walking towards the elevator, discussing possible outfit choices as she goes.