It was a rough few days for Amanda. That first one, it was all she could do to go to class and not break down in the middle of it, feeling like every eye was on her and every whispered joke and every snicker that went with it was about her. Some of them were. She could tell by the way they looked at her and that just made her want to shrink into herself until she vanished.
She got dinner because she felt even more heartsick on an empty stomach. She forced herself to go to a place she couldn't quite afford and put it on the credit card her parents gave her for emergencies, knowing her parents never said anything about an occasional treat for herself. Eating to kill your feelings wasn't the best thing, but people often did it because it worked. She told herself she deserved to treat herself well even if no one here would. Then, alone in her studio apartment with nothing left to do but be with her thoughts, she'd cry again, wondering what was so wrong with her that people she thought were her friends could do that to her.
The next day was much the same. She'd kept her head down in class and forced herself to get through the day. No fancy-ish dinner this time though, settling for a pint of specialty ice cream from a little shop off campus and some binge-watching of television, deciding that she'd embrace her geekdom by going for old sci-fi shows before calling her mother.
She didn't tell her mom that she'd been an idiot, of course, so, when her mom noticed the heartache in her voice Amanda assured her that it was only general homesickness. Mom felt her pain and assured her that it really would get better. "Get out of your shell a little, honey. Go somewhere that you might never go. Go there, find someone that seems nice and say hi. You might get lucky and meet some friends-to-be that are also sitting in the other corners of the place hiding out."
"Try for me, honey. You can do it. The friends you make will be so lucky to have you. I know because I've known you my whole life and I've been so lucky that I got to."
It was all she could do to end the call on that note and not start crying again.
Day three was better and not only because she tried to tell herself it was. The sun was out once again and she felt drained of a lot of the melancholy that had darkened her universe. She felt cried out. And with that draining of emotion came a sense of clarity. She thought back on her time with those girls. She was kind to them. She was nice. Mostly all she wanted was friends, but, trying to be honest with herself, she admitted that she wanted friends like those. Being in their orbit alone would make her popular. She might get to at least see more of the fun side of college life. Maybe they could teach her how to fit in better. So, yes, she wanted things from them, but, really, only the things friends wanted from each other and did for each other.
With that clarity came a new perspective. She heard every little quip and dig that the three dropped at her expense in a new light. They laughed and said they were just kidding and then either offered her a little kindness to smooth it over or gaslight her to the point where she was laughing it off or wondering what it was she was too stupid to understand about people that didn't grow up in small towns and open spaces.
What still cut was Constance. God, she was beautiful. When she smiled at her, Amanda sighed. The first time in a friendly moment that Constance pulled her into a hug, her pussy dampened of its own accord. And, in those moments where it felt like they were friends, Amanda dreamed of more.
You did some self-gaslighting, too, Amanda.
She could tell herself that and it was true, but even now the heart wanted what the heart wanted.
Fuck them. Fuck all of them
, she told herself forcefully.
I don't need them. Those assholes don't know what they're missing. You don't need fake people around you like that. You don't want Constance. You don't want some rich bitch like that.
It helped so much that she hadn't seen any of them in the last few days.
They probably moved on to their next sucker
, she thought. They did and now she could too. She worried for a moment about who this other person might be, but, for right now anyway, she couldn't help this other person if there was one. She was only finally starting to pull
herself
together, for God's sake.
There was a knock at the door that pulled her from propping herself up. She hit the button on the controller of the used game console she was using to stream with and tossed it on the couch as she headed to the door.
Opening it, her eyes widened and a thousand butterflies did the best they could to flutter their way out of her stomach. All the dread was back. All the sadness was back as if it had never left. There she was in a navy skirt, heels and a thin white blouse that probably cost more combined than everything in her closet. As much as her heart ached, her pussy still wanted what it wanted, as she was unable not to notice those shapely legs and that those breasts were untamed by a bra.
Stop it.
"What do you want?"
"Can I come in?"
Amanda was proud of herself for sounding so defensive. "Why?"
Constance looked up and down the hall, visibly uncomfortable, as though she wanted desperately to bolt, but couldn't make herself do it.
Amanda leaned her head out the door and looked both ways, seeing no one, before swallowing hard to push down the lump of sadness that was forming inside along with the anger. "Afraid that someone will see you come here?"
"Yes," she said quickly. "Partly. But I absolutely
have
to talk to you. It's very important to us both."
"No."
Amanda tried to close the door, but Constance propped it open with surprising strength, her voice carrying a hint of desperation. "You don't understand. If you want me to leave after we've talked no one's going to be happier to leave than I will be, but I
can't
leave without talking to you first, so let's get this over with now so I don't have to follow you around wherever you go until you finally hear me out.
Please
, let's just get this over with so I can get on with my life."
It didn't sound like all that bad an idea. She would say her piece and they could both move on. "Fine." She stepped away from the door and Constance hurried in, closing it behind her.
"I'd offer you something, but you're not going to be here that long, so just tell me what this is about." Amanda didn't want to look at her. She didn't even want to listen to her, but she could at least be the better person and hear her out. It was also on her mind that if she didn't look at her, Amanda's pussy couldn't start trying to talk her heart into things and her mind out of them.
She was so focused on that that it took her time to realize that Constance hadn't even started talking about what was go damn important yet.