Adventures of Disillusionment - Chapter 3 - The Building of a Home

After a month of staying at the duplex and watching things crumple everywhere around me I was growing weary and uncomfortable with my surroundings. I holed myself up in Neil’s room and rarely came out unless prompted to join someone. I felt insecure and distinctly out of place even though both Clay and Jamie called me on outings regularly. I did more and more chores for the house to make up for not paying rent there and felt severely agitated at being there. I missed my own apartment and my own homey surroundings.

The house was also starting to grow more and more turbulent, until finally Chloe came to me asking if she could move in with me. I replied with an eager yes, considering the split rent and the more bustling situation at the apartment. I could finally go back and not feel alone and scared in my own home. After Clay had asked for utilities check from me, that put the nail in the coffin and I began every quickly working to move back.

While filing paperwork with Chloe we chatted about this and that. I listened intently as she told me of the drugs and the worsening fights between the couples in the house.

“You know Alex lost my rent money?” She asked calmly as we stood by her car on the warm November afternoon.
“What?” Opening the door, I climbed in and looked at her, allowing the astonishment I was feeling to fully flood my face.
“Yeah, said he put it in the living room and then it was gone. Called the police and everything. They’re saying Pi and I stole it.”
“You’re kidding, that’s ridiculous.” I felt compelled to slap my best friend for siding with the pig-headed Alex on this one.
“Nope. That’s why Robert let us out of the lease.” She looked behind her backing out of her space. Robert? The name sounded familiar and considering the context I took it to mean Alex’s father. I would definitely be hearing about this from Kristin. Not that I necessarily wanted her perspective.

I sat on Neil’s bed the next night, the last night I’d spend at the duplex, talking with Kristin on the phone. She relayed the same events that Chloe had told me about in a more skewed fashion with dispersed warnings, and curse works while ultimately making Alex the hero of the drama. I couldn’t begin to guess who was telling the truth in this fiasco, and I didn’t want to. My gut feeling told me that Chloe wasn’t lying and that things seemed a bit strange on Kristin and Alex’s side, but I didn’t say anything as she attempted to present fact upon fact of information to prove that Alex was telling the truth.

Many facts didn’t fit, and I didn’t care, my faith and the lock on my door kept me feeling more secure than ever before. Chloe had been a trustworthy person and I went with that. I had no reason to question it. I had gotten the lock when another girl had wanted to move in with me, and had gotten myself in the habit of locking my door when I wasn’t there. It was a good habit to keep just in case, but I had no reason not to trust my new roommate. In fact she had given me more reason to trust her than Alex or even Kristin had. And I went with that.

The next night after gathering all my things, and enough of Neil’s necessary possessions we bid goodbye to the residents of the duplex as we left. I didn’t feel I’d be back in a long time. My suspicions came from a deeply buried feeling of discomfort associated with the place.

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I stood over the glass container staring at the fuzz-balls hopping around. One stood on his hind legs and stared at me, while another twitched his nose. None seemed to be the one I wanted, all were too rowdy, not calm or sweet enough.
“What do you think?” I turned to Neil to look upon him as he shrugged back at me. His eyes were fixed on the rabbit who stood up and sniffed the air near his face. He seemed transfixed by the cuteness. “Never mind.” I continued to stare at the fuzzy creatures that just didn’t feel right. A set of arms came into my view and dropped a new addition to the enclosure. Then another addition. Two new bunnies were now sitting contentedly in the glass enclosure. I looked at one for a moment, he was closer, and then at the other. My eyes lit up as I saw him. I reached out to pet him and he slowly sniffed me. His lop ears moved as I picked him up and he comfortably molded to my arms. I cocked my head as I used my free hand to pet his head and watched him comfortable wiggle and close his eyes.

“This one. This is the one I want.” I exclaimed in excitement as I watched the small lop rest in my arms.
“What are you going to name him? Snuffy?” Neil inquired as he attempted to catch one of the other bunnies in the enclosure.
“No, this one’s Oscar. He reminds me of my cactus.” I spoke as he failed at his third attempt to catch one. “Want to pet him?” I raised my eyes to his to be met with a sweet, laughing look. He reached over petting Oscar’s head and snickering at my comparison of the animal to a cactus.

This and many more happy days shopping and organizing made the apartment that the four of us now called a home much more comfortable. It became a happy retreat from problems, where I could study and talk with friends, relax, cook dinners, and watch movies. We hosted get-togethers and relaxed and made this little nook feel like a home.

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On my birthday Neil took me out to dinner to a wonderful Greek restaurant that as we walked in made me feel warm and comfortable. We sat at beautiful tables as exotic music played and enjoyed foods that seemed both familiar and new. His eyes sparkled as we laughed and as he gently brushed my hand. We fed each other and reveled in each other’s company. His sweet and inviting demeanor left me comfortable and content.

The night went splendidly and the wily grins Neil had been throwing my way all night had me looking forward to retiring soon. The sudden ringing jolted me from my pleasant visions of being in his arms later that night. My eyes grew a little heavier as I watched him bring the phone up to his ear. He spoke for a while and got back into his car motioning for me to do the same.
“We’re going to go to Wal-Mart for a bit.” The sly smirk on his face told me there was something going on.
“Who was that?” I asked matter-of-factly, buckling up my seatbelt.
“Chloe.” He smiled and pulled out of the spot. Chloe? She’s trying to keep us out of the apartment? Oh damn, it’s my birthday. I smacked myself on the forehead as the thought sparked an avalanche of understanding. I wanted to question it further but instead slipped into the comfort of the now warm air blowing on me through the heater as Neil continued to throw confused glances my way.

After ten minutes of strolling through the isles hand in hand, Neil directs me toward the exit and the car. I looked at him expectantly, hoping for an explanation and receiving none. He drives back with one hand, so I can hold the other in mine. Everything seemed surreal like I was trapped in a cheesy teen movie, and yet I loved every minute of it. Every soft brush of his fingers, every loving glance, every smile. It was my day and he made me savor it.

Upon walking into the darkened living room I shrugged out of my coat and flicked the light switch to the on position.
“Surprise!” Pi and Chloe both chime from their seats in the kitchen. It’s a small celebration that’s all about me. I positively glowed at the attention, I’m sure of it. These are my friends, who got a red velvet cake and put candles in it, making this day all about me. I know I sound selfish and stupid, but it’s a nice feeling. A feeling that makes for a good day.

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It was all set, the extra table bought, guests invited and confirmed. The night would be good. Almost a week after my birthday, the weekend of Thanksgiving break was the first time I got a chance to have a large celebration. Deciding on a sophisticated dinner and wine feel I spent all day preparing. Only with Chloe, Pi, and Neil’s help had everything been accomplished. An inconsumable amount of food had been prepared, the house had been cleaned and polished and everything would be perfect. By 8 the guests started arriving and the table had been set. The new table cloth and glasses I had bought for the occasion adding to the ambiance of the night. By 9 we were sitting down to dinner.

“Did she tell she’d be here?” Chloe’s concerned look met my sullen eyes. I quickly masked any thoughts of disappointment I may have had.
“Yeah, but you know how it is.” I brushed away her concern and simply laughed it off. In reality it hurt, not because she wasn’t there, but because though I had hoped she’d show, I hadn’t expected. I had expected to be blown off for something far more involved and important.
“It is right before break, Kat. Maybe something came up.” Caleb offered with a sympathetic smile. I turned to my right and met his eyes with my own. He unruly brown hair fell in front of his eyes making it hard to catch them. I realized then how much I had missed him in the year we hadn’t seen each other.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s no big deal. I didn’t expect her anyway.” I felt Neil’s hand touch mine and hold it in a loving way.
“Liar,” Caleb chimed, “You said if she didn’t show, you’d kill her.” He looked at me trying to break my façade.
“Yeah, and I will. That’s not saying anything about my expectation for her to show up.” I laughed, the more we talked about it the more I got irked. “Anyway, let’s eat!” I smiled and waved for people to dig in. Looking over at Neil I saw the concerned compassion in his eyes. I hadn’t fooled him.
“I’ll be right back.” he whispered in my ear, picking up his phone and making his way toward my bedroom.

Dinner had gone splendidly, with wine, conversation and the BET awards. We laughed the whole time, and by desert Kristin was long forgotten.

“Hey Kat, why don’t you make the call? Try her one more time before desert?” Chloe looked back at me as we carried dishes into the kitchen to get clean plates.
“I might.” I sighed showing some frustration for the first time.
“Are you sure it’s not my fault? Maybe she didn’t come because of me?” An apologetic look flooded her face and I couldn’t help but feel bad. It wasn’t her fault in any way, and here she was trying to take the blame.
“No, God no. It has nothing to do with you. She just flaked.” I hugged her after putting the dishes down. “I’ll go make that call.” I brushed my hand off her shoulder and walked back to the living room, plucking my phone off the coffee table and dialing Kristin’s number again. The voicemail message that I had gotten accustomed to hearing spoke back at me as I pressed the red button on my phone, ending the last call I’d make to her phone for days.

Two days later she finally appeared online. She apologized curtly, in a way that made me feel more cold than forgiving. Instead of taking it up then, which I didn’t feel ready to do, I went online. As immature as it may be writing a Xanga entry seemed the only way for me to deal with all the feelings I had boiling in me. In response I received and e-mail filled with an apology, a stab at my inability to communicate directly, and many protests to the kind of friend I had been lately. Instead of biting my tongue again, I responded with an equally scathing e-mail response hitting on the fact that I had been the one to get ditched, and that I had tried my hardest, while receiving little in response. I made no apologies and to this day don’t feel I owed any. The last e-mail sent was hers, with another curt apology and an explanation on how she needed time to adjust to her now single life, how her parents had taken her out of town earlier that day, how Thanksgiving wasn’t the best time to have a party, and how the only thing she would have changed is there would have been a call. I ended it at that. The apology did little to satisfy me, but this was an endless battle, and one I didn’t feel was worth fighting. She wouldn’t change and little could be expected from her as a friend.

I resolved myself to being as good a friend as I could, and expecting as little as possible. The situation I had reached seemed inevitable and would lead to a further demise in relations with her.