After Boyfriend Confessed to Girl Buddy, He Regretted Madly

At the freshman orientation performance, my boyfriend went up on stage and sang a love song to confess his feelings to his girl buddy.

When I heard him call out Kirsten Shepherd's name, the whole crowd broke into thunderous applause and started chanting for them to kiss.

I stood off to the side, and the surprise I'd been expecting turned in an instant into a humiliation I had nowhere to hide from.

Kirsten laughed and reached up to pinch Victor Stephens's cheek. "You've got some nerve, kid. Guess your old man didn't misjudge you after all."

Then she noticed me frozen where I stood, and put on a startled look.

"It was just a joke with Kit, and now she's upset again."

"Go on, go make it up to her."

Victor turned his head, glanced at me once, then turned back, completely unbothered.

"Whatever I promised you, I'll follow through on."

"Kit's parents both say she's petty, that I don't have to indulge her. Why bother with her?"

And the two of them dissolved into their usual roughhousing again.

Victor was always like this.

When we first got together, I said I wanted to go public, and he'd said the same thing then too.

"Go public for what? If Kirsten and those buddies of hers find out, they'll just give me a hard time."

So for three years together, Kirsten led the pack in calling me the tagalong.

And every time, Victor would laugh and shove back and forth with her, joining right in and calling me that too.

Watching the two of them in the crowd not far off, soaking up the congratulations while they scuffled like grade-schoolers.

I didn't want to keep putting myself through this. I applied for a campus transfer.

Victor, and that confession that would never come, I didn't want any of it anymore.

01.

Second week of freshman year, our drill instructor got everyone playing performance games.

My boyfriend got picked to go up and sing.

Everyone was cheering him on, but I turned to look at him, worried.

He'd told me he didn't like being showy.

Amid all the laughing, Victor stood up briskly and took the mic.

The song finished.

He grinned and said, "Kirsten, I like you. Be my girlfriend."

A wave of cheering rose and fell all around them.

Kirsten ran up and grabbed his face. "You've got nerve, kid. Your old man didn't misjudge you."

There was a doting look in Victor's eyes as he batted her hand away with one hand and reached out to pinch her cheek with the other.

I stood frozen, staring blankly at the two of them.

As if she'd finally caught my eye, Kirsten covered her mouth in surprise.

"Oh no, it was just a joke, and now Kit's mad again."

Then, all fake generosity, she added,

"You'd better go smooth things over with her, you rascal."

"Don't you worry about me, your old man's not the petty type."

That was what she said, but she never let go of Victor's hand.

Hearing her, Victor followed her gaze and gave me a cool, indifferent glance.

Then he bent down again to fix the hair Kirsten had gotten mussed in all the roughhousing.

He said, "It's fine. I lost the dare, so I promised to confess to you, and I keep my word."

"As for Kit, you don't have to bother with her."

"Even her dad says she's petty, that I don't have to indulge her. Why waste your time on her?"

Kirsten's face went red and she pinched his arm.

"You're just using the game to take advantage of me, kid. Now everyone thinks we're a couple, and I'm supposed to be your daddy."

Victor looked at her, doting.

"Yes, Daddy."

My nose stung and I lowered my head, holding my breath to force the tears back.

I remembered when Victor and I first got together, I told him I wanted to go public.

He'd laughed as he finished replying to Kirsten's message, then glanced down at me.

"Go public for what? If Kirsten and those buddies of hers find out, they'll just give me grief."

"Kit, if showy is what you like."

"Then I'm sorry, I'm not right for you."

We never went public, and Kirsten led the pack in calling me the tagalong for three years.

Now that I thought about it, the not-liking-showy thing was a lie.

He just wasn't willing to be showy for me.

The tears fell anyway, no matter how hard I tried.

The students beside me noticed.

They whispered about me under their breath.

"Someone's confessing to a girl over there, so what's Kit crying about?"

"I saw her glued to Victor ages ago, wouldn't let go. Probably just jealous of Kirsten."

Some of them stared openly, eyes bright with the promise of a show.

I fought hard to force the tears back.

I turned to head toward the dorms, but Kirsten grabbed my arm.

She held on to me with a bright smile, her nails digging deep into my skin.

I couldn't pull free, and a ring of red marks rose fast on my forearm.

"Kit, don't cry."

"It was just a joke. Victor and I are just good buddies, don't read too much into it."

I'd just opened my mouth to speak when Victor cut me off, his face dark.

"You. Come with me."

He left no room to argue, seizing my other arm and dragging me off to where fewer people were.

The arm Kirsten had pinched was oozing blood, but he didn't see it.

His face was cold. "I lost a dare, so I confessed to Kirsten, that's all. It's not like it was some stranger. What are you crying about?"

I looked at him, hurt. "But Kirsten said you were going up there today to surprise me, and I thought..."

He rubbed the space between his brows, impatient.

"Kirsten's got a kid's temper, she just likes to joke around. You didn't need to overreact like this."

"At the end of it, it's just one confession. What's there to nitpick over?"

"Did you forget everything your parents taught you? Be gracious, Kit."

It was over ninety degrees out, the height of summer, and yet I felt like I'd fallen into a pit of ice.

I stared at him, mouth open, unable to get a single word out.

Noise carried over from the distance.

It was Kirsten, saying something or other to the other students.

They were laughing and talking, and halfway through they lifted their heads and pointed my way.

All I could faintly make out was those three syllables. Tagalong.

Humiliation and hurt swallowed me whole.

I stopped paying Victor any attention and turned to run toward the dorms.

I just wanted to escape all those mocking, sneering eyes.

Back in the dorm, I sat on my bed and stared at my bruised arm.

All I could see were the two of them standing together, and that one word. Tagalong.

Tears ran down my whole face.

My phone chimed. A message from Victor.

Just one line.

"Don't bring up Kirsten's joke again today. Don't make a scene over it."

To Victor, every one of Kirsten's jokes was just childish temper.

Senior year, the school cracked down hard on dress code. For morning drills, you had to be in your gym uniform.

In the summer, everyone kept their uniforms in the lockers by the classroom door.

Kirsten took a leave slip, slipped out, cut my uniform to shreds, and dumped it in the boys' bathroom.

At drill time I couldn't find it and started crying, frantic,

and she stood there beaming, tugging Victor over to watch me search.

In the end I got punished with laps around the field.

Kirsten made a point of bringing a whole crowd of her buddies to watch.

They sneered from the side. "Even the honor student gets punished, huh?"

I said nothing, head down, teeth clenched, running lap after lap.

When I stayed quiet, Kirsten started egging them on.

"No wonder she won't wear the uniform. The tagalong's got a body like that, all that bounce, be a shame not to show it off."

"You boys have no appreciation for a pretty thing."

And they burst out laughing.

Tears dripped onto the track, my hands shook, but I didn't dare stop running.

In the end it came out that Kirsten had done it, and all Victor said, flat as anything, was, "That's just her childish temper. Be the bigger person and let it go."

He had never once cared how I felt.

Another buzz pulled me back to the present.

I grabbed the phone, a small flicker of hope catching in my chest.

Maybe it was Victor.

It was my mom calling.

She asked how I was settling in this new semester.

Disappointment sank through me.

I wiped my eyes and told her things were fine.

I was about to pick a few funny stories from the start of term to tell her, and she cut me off.

Her tone shifted. "Kirsten says you and Victor had a falling-out?"

The scolding edge was already there. "What did I tell you before school started? Did you forget again? Didn't I say not to be so dramatic, to give Victor a little more slack?"

"So he likes to joke around with his friends. Let him. Be generous about it."

"Kitty, you're a grown woman. How are you still this immature, still making your mom worry?"

My hand froze where it was.

For as long as I could remember, they'd been teaching me to be generous.

No matter whose fault it was, all they ever told me was to let it go and be the bigger person.

I didn't say another word, and let the tears I'd just wiped away come flooding back.

At the end of the call, my mom gave me an order.

"Tomorrow is your birthday. Victor's sure to do something for you. Don't play hard to get, just make up with him."

After I hung up, I lay on my bed in a daze until morning.

The next day was Saturday, so there was no orientation drill.

I sat on my dorm bed and waited through the whole day.

Not one call, not one text from Victor. The only message I got was Mom asking whether I'd made up with him yet.

By evening, my roommates said we should all go out to dinner to celebrate for me.

But at the restaurant we ran into Victor.

His whole group had just come out of a bar.

Kirsten was drunk out of her mind, babbling, "Victor, you used to take baths with me when we were little, both of us bare-butt naked."

"You mess with me, and I'll tell everyone about that mole on your butt."

Victor laughed and hooked an arm around her waist, letting her lean into him.

He moved gently, like he was afraid of hurting her.

"I wouldn't dare."

Kirsten pretended to squirm away, but she only pressed in closer.

"Then let me test you."

"If Kitty and I fell into a river at the same time, who would you save first?"

Victor's voice softened, indulgent.

"You, of course."

The others gave a knowing "ooooh" and started to laugh among themselves.

"Anyone can see how good these two lovebirds are together. Please, spare us the PDA."

"Without Kitty tagging along like a shadow, you two are actually sweet. This is too good to ship."

Victor didn't correct them.

Kirsten smiled sweetly but waved a hand. "Don't talk nonsense, we're just buddies."

Watching them, my chopsticks slipped from my fingers onto the table, and the splash of oil hit the back of my hand.

A sharp, stinging pain shot through me, but I wasn't in the mood to care about the burn.

The noise at our table drew their eyes to me.

I clamped a hand over mine and dropped my head, mortified.

Victor still saw me anyway.

He came over to me, his gaze grazing the back of my hand, and finally, frowning, he asked,

"What are you doing out fooling around this late?"

My eyes went hot in that instant, and I forced out a few words.

"Today's my birthday."

He froze, as if he'd only just remembered, and took a plastic bag with a cake in it from a classmate's hand.

He held the plastic bag out to me.

"Happy birthday."

That classmate asked, "Isn't this the cake you bought to sober Kirsten up, the leftover one?"

Someone off to the side snickered.

Victor's face turned a little stiff.

He grabbed a chair and sat down to join our table.

"Kirsten had no appetite, so she didn't eat it. Take it for now, I'll get you a proper present later."

Kirsten plopped down in the chair beside him.

"It's all my fault. This morning I'm the one who dragged Victor and the guys out to have fun, that's why he forgot your birthday."

Then she leaned against Victor again and said breezily,

"We're close, so we don't bother with this kind of thing. Don't be mad, okay?"

Victor smiled and smoothed the hem of her skirt. "You and your big mouth."

"Kitty wouldn't get upset over something this small, right?"

He lifted his eyes to me, like he was pushing me to say yes the way I always had.

I looked into his eyes and thought of Kirsten's birthday last year.

A whole month ahead, Victor had pulled strings to book a table at the best restaurant in town.

He'd even dragged me along to pick out her present.

Yet he couldn't even remember my birthday.

This time I didn't nod the way he expected.

I ate through the meal in silence.

By the time dinner was over, it was already one in the morning.

Kirsten, hiccuping from the drink, slumped against Victor.

He scooped her up sideways and turned to us. "It's too late. I'm taking Kirsten home."

Suggestive laughter rippled around the table.

Someone egged him on. "Go on, Victor. You and your girl get some rest, early night."

I stood there, my whole body rigid.

Victor turned to look at me again. His eyes lingered on me for a second, hesitating.

He'd just opened his mouth when Kirsten cut him off.

She reached up and locked her arms around his neck, then, woozy, wriggled like she was trying to get down.

Still hollering, "It's fine, put your daddy down, hurry up. I'm not like some people who can't live without a man."

"I'll just grab a shared bike and find a motel, you go take care of Kitty."

Victor frowned and held her tighter.

"Stop it. I'm taking you."

And with that, he carried Kirsten off in a hurry, without another glance at me.

Just as my roommate was asking if I wanted to crash at her place for the night, I got a text from Victor.

He said, wait for me, I'll come back and take you home in a bit.

So I shook my head at my roommate and turned down her kindness.

I wanted to sit down and really talk things through with Victor.

I stood in the dark and waited a long time, until every shop around had closed and still Victor hadn't come.

The kind restaurant owner, locking up, asked if I needed any help.

I hesitated, then shook my head again.

Some things have to be said to someone's face. If he'd chosen Kirsten, I would let go.

But what came instead was a homeless man reeking of alcohol.

He came weaving toward me, and before I could dodge, he collided with me.

He reached out with a filthy hand and grabbed me, baring his big yellow teeth in a grin.

"Throwing yourself right into my arms, huh, you little slut."

The stench off him made me want to gag, and I started fighting with everything I had.

He raised a hand and slapped me, annoyed.

"Hold still. Standing out here all alone this late, aren't you waiting for some lover boy?"

"He dumped you and never showed, didn't he? It's fine, you've still got me."

In the chaos, he yanked the buttons of my shirt open.

I threw a hand up over my chest and kicked hard at him, low.

The moment he flinched in pain and let go, I bolted toward the nearest police station.

But he chased after me, relentless.

Gritting my teeth, I ran and pulled out my phone to call for help.

My fingers instinctively dialed Victor's number.

The phone rang for a long time before it finally connected.

Cradling the phone, I felt nothing but a bottomless flood of hurt.

"Come save me, hurry. There's a homeless man attacking me."

Victor paused first, then his voice dropped a little.

"Wait for me."

The tears spilled from my eyes before I could stop them.

I stumbled all the way to the police station and reported it.

After I finished giving my statement, I got a message from Victor.

"Kirsten threw up again. I can't just leave her."

"Nothing serious can happen around campus. Go wait it out at the police station yourself."

"Be good, don't make a fuss. I'll make it up to you with a present tomorrow."

I tried calling him, but the line never went through.

On that late-summer night, wind poured in through the torn front of my shirt.

My body wouldn't stop shaking.

I raised a hand to my face and only then realized it was already covered in tears.

The day after my birthday, Victor taught me a lesson.

I finally understood. He could do so much for Kirsten, but he would give up nothing for me.

Between me and Kirsten, I would only ever be the one left behind.

Then I choose to walk away.

I opened my phone and sent my academic advisor an application for a campus transfer slot, then pulled up the chat with Victor and typed two words: We're done.

Sunday morning, I got a reply from my academic advisor. She wanted me to come see her.

At her office, she said to me, her tone serious,

"Kitty, I've already submitted your transfer request. If it goes through, you'll be moving to the new campus this Monday."

This Monday was tomorrow.

I gave a small nod.

She asked again, "Are you sure you've really thought this through?"

"The new campus is in another city. The train alone takes hours. Once you transfer, there's no coming back."

I said firmly, "Thank you. I've thought it through."

She glanced down at the marks on my arm, let out a soft sigh, and in the end said nothing more.

Walking out of her office, I went back to my dorm and started looking at train tickets.

A six-hour train ride was enough to put me far away from those two sworn brothers.

I opened my social media feed and saw Kirsten's post sitting at the very top.

Just a few simple lines, but enough to set anyone's mind running.

'Nothing beats a brother you can count on.'

'Checked, and yep, that mole on my big boy's butt is still there.'

The photo showed Victor and Kirsten lying under the same blanket, fingers laced together.

Victor was bare from the waist up, the lower half of him buried under the thick covers.

I was about to scroll down when Victor's call came through.

His voice was low. "What are you playing at?"

"Throwing out a breakup like it's nothing. Is that what your parents raised you to do?"

I touched my face, still faintly aching.

"I almost got raped last night."

"I waited a long time for you, and you told me you weren't coming."

The impatience came through the line.

"So I don't come, and you can't head back on your own?"

"Someone's harassing you, and you can't call the police yourself?"

"Are you a giant baby? You can't even manage that?"

His words struck me as absurd.

I stayed silent, and I heard Kirsten's voice on his end.

She said, putting on a brave face, "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so drunk yesterday. Now Kitty's got the wrong idea."

I asked Victor, "You slept in the same bed as her last night?"

He gave an impatient, cold laugh. "We're close, like brothers. She was drunk and feeling awful, so I looked after her all night. I was tired, we slept in one bed, what's the problem?"

"You just love nitpicking. You even get jealous over Kirsten for no reason."

"Kirsten and I have been friends for years. If anything were ever going to happen, you think it'd wait for you?"

Something in my chest stung, like a bee had gotten it, a dull ache.

I said to him, my voice very quiet.

"I'm done nitpicking. I'm out. I'll stay far away from the both of you."

He scoffed, his voice full of contempt.

"Kitty, didn't I tell you I hate it most when people threaten me?"

"Everyone knows you're my little tagalong. You think you could bear to leave me?"

"But since you said it, you'd better follow through. Don't show up in front of me again and make me look down on you."

His voice was so certain, the mockery in his laugh plain to hear.

Tears dropped onto the screen. I didn't say another word.

For all these years he'd always told me to be the bigger person, and all I could do was give in, again and again.

I never imagined my swallowed hurt and all that giving in would only earn me his contempt.

He didn't think any of it was wrong, and he certainly didn't think I'd actually leave him.

It wasn't that he had no heart. His heart just wasn't with me.

He treated me this way, so cocky and sure, only because he believed I couldn't live without him.

When I didn't answer for a long time, he hung up on me.

I looked down at Victor's profile picture.

It was a group shot with his high school buddies, and he and Kirsten stood dead center.

The two of them looked so close in it, like a real couple.

I closed the chat, cleanly blocked him and Kirsten both, and bought a ticket on the next train out.

While packing, I boxed up every gift Victor had given me over the years and threw it in the dumpster downstairs.

The couple's shirts I'd never once worn went into the clothing donation bin.

Dragging my empty suitcase, I headed for the train station without looking back.