Sep: All the Things I wish I'd Said

“School days are the best years of your life!”

Yeah, really? Well, I was in my final year of school and I’d started to wonder if the person who said that had ever been to school because, ya know, I call bullshit.

I’d met Evan when we were both sophomores at Winstone College and we dated on and off for the last two years—more off than on—but every time I said he was done with him, he’d be between girlfriends and he’d drunk dial me and want to see me, and I’d be like, “It’s a bad idea, right?” and my girlfriends would say, “YES!” and then I’d be like, “Yeah, it’s a bad idea but, whatever, okay, fine,” and the whole shitty cycle would start over again.

I was trapped in an Olivia Rodrigo song—in fact I think she wrote Bad Idea about me. My little sister, Katie, is totally into her music. I wouldn’t admit it to her, but it’s got a certain singalong-ability, especially after slamming tequila shots.

Totally not the point.

Okay, so here’s the thing: there was all this stuff that I wanted to say to Evan, things that I kind of needed to say to him if I was ever going to be able to move on.

My friend, Sabbi, called it when she said I was addicted to his bad behavior.

“You get off on the drama, Ella,” she said wearily. “And he’s not even worth it. He’s not a nice guy; he’s not even a great lay bad boy. He’s just a lame loser who, for some reason, you keeping giving chances to. When are you going to woman up and aim for a guy who’s actually worth your time? Why do you let him get away with lying to you? You know he does it, so why don’t you tell him what you really think? ‘Cause, self-esteem issues, or what?”

“Hey!” I yelped, stung by the truth.

That might sound like she made a cheap shot, but it was just because of a lot of shots and she was being honest with me. That’s what best friends do, right? Tell you the truth when no one else will.

“You know what your problem is?”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to tell me?”

“You’re a people pleaser.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It can be,” she said, nodding with certainty. “Because you don’t like hurting people’s feelings, you never say what you really think.”

“Well, I don’t like hurting people’s feelings! What’s wrong with that?”

She sighed. “Look, I get it, and it’s one of the reasons that I love you, but this morning, the barista totally messed up your order and gave you a latte with a vanilla shot and coconut milk. You hate coconut milk, and you’d ordered a cappuccino, no sprinkles.”

All true.

“She’s new.”

“So?”

“She was busy. I didn’t want to bother her.”

Sabbi threw her hands up in the air.

“Exactly! But it wasn’t like you had to be rude to her, just tell her she’s made a mistake and let her fix it. Don’t let people treat you like you’re not worth their time, because you totally are.”

I made a resolution there and then. Kind of like a New Year’s resolution, it being a new semester and all, and me being half drunk.

I toasted my resolution with a beer chaser.

“I, Ella Carmel Fitzpatrick, do hereby promise and solemnly swear to say what I think from now on until the end of the semester.”

“I know you’ll never stick to that, but I wish you would.”

“I totally am sticky!”

“Oh Lord,” Sabbi laughed, shaking her head. “So, if Evan walked in here right now and said he’d made a huge mistake and wanted to make it up to you, what would you say?”

“Oooh! Do you think he will?”

“Aaagh! No! I don’t think he will, and you don’t either. Plus, you told me that he wasn’t fit to wipe your feet with his favorite Minnesota Twins 1990 vintage t-shirt.”

“You’re right,” I sighed. “I know you’re right.”

“Of course I am! So, what would you say to him?”

“Um … that’s he’s not a nice person…”

“And?”

“He’s a selfish lover with a hairy ass and he’s never, ever given me the big O.”

“Anything else?”

She was grinning at me and I was starting to enjoy myself, but then I felt a pair of hands groping my ass.

I might have been somewhat drunk, but I knew they weren’t her hands and they definitely not my hands, so…

I looked over my shoulder and found Evan with his tongue hovering around my ear. I could practically see the saliva dripping off it. He thought that showed passion, but it was like having a mollusc clean your ear.

I jerked away and he gave me that puppy dog face that I used to think was so adorable.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his eyes wandering to my cleavage.

He often had deep and meaningless conversations with my girls.

Sabbi poked me with her finger, “Go on! Tell him to let the door hit him on his ass!”

He smirked at her, fulling expecting me to leap to his defence.

And honestly, if we hadn’t just had the conversation, I might have been a wimp and let him use me again, but I was wearing big girl panties and fuelled by tequila.

“You know, Evan, everyone is entitled to act stupid once in a while, but now you’re just abusing the privilege.”

“Thank you, baby, I … wait! What?”

I patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry—stupidity isn’t a crime, so you’re free to go.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

“You want a list?”

“What?”

By now I was on a roll and kind of enjoying myself. I held up both hands, ticking off the points on my fingers.

“You’re a selfish lover … with a hairy ass … you’ve never, ever given me the big O … you think belching on the phone to my gran is funny … you always ‘forget’ your wallet when we have a date … not that you ever plan a date … you leave skid marks on your shorts … which means you’re too lazy to wipe your own ass … you think I should do your shitty laundry when you stay at my place,” I paused for breath, then held up my middle finger. “Oh look, I have one finger left,” and I gave him the bird.

His face was an ugly purple color by now but I didn’t care. There was something incredibly freeing about saying how I really felt for once. I’d put up with his horrible manners and bad behaviour for too long. Sabbi was right—I was worth more. Way more.

“I’m busy. You’re an asshole. Have a nice life.”

“Yeah? Well you’re a terrible lay … and … and you’re fat!”

I stared at him, wondering what I’d ever seen in him: the guy was as shallow as a puddle on a hot day.

“Evan, whoever told you to just be yourself gave you really bad advice.”

Sabbi let out a whoop then high-fived me, and other people nearby started clapping. Evan threw me a furious look and stalked off.

“That was awesome!” Sabbi cheered.

I sat down heavily as the adrenaline rush left me feeling shaky.

“Are you okay?” Sabbi asked, looking concerned.

“I was awesome? Really?”

“You owned it!”

I gave her a weak smile. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

“No regrets?”

And this time I smiled. “Nope, not a single one.”

***

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding skull and sat up in bed gingerly, holding my head to make sure it didn’t fall off. Then I glanced down at the empty space next to me, the space that Evan occasionally occupied.

So yeah, I had a bad head, but I didn’t have a beer-swilling loser sprawled in my bed, filling the room with his presence (by which I mean gas). Instead I felt a warm glow of pride.

And then I threw up.

Luckily, I didn’t have class till 11am, so I had time to hit up my favorite coffee shop. The barista who’d given me the wrong drink was working again but I was sure she wouldn’t get mine wrong again.

But when I took a sip, it was the horribly sweet goop that she’d given me yesterday.

“Excuse me…” I began politely, as my heart started to race.

“There’s a line,” she said, turning away from me.

Rude!

“I’m aware, but you just served me and this isn’t the coffee I ordered.” I turned to the line stretching out behind me. “But if anyone wants a latte with coconut milk and a vanilla shot, this one’s a-going begging.” I smiled at the barista. “I’m waiting for a cappuccino, extra foam, no sprinkles.”

A freshman at the back of the line took the gloopy coffee with a murmured thanks, and a minute later, I got the coffee I ordered.

I was so pleased I’d stood up for myself that I left her a large tip.

But my good mood didn’t last long. I thought back to all the times before when I hadn’t stood up for myself, when I’d let the mean girls get to me or pretended not to see the bullies picking on other kids in case they came after me. I sipped my coffee, looking back on my childhood and teenage years, thinking of all the things I wished I’d said to bullies, mean girls, awful boyfriends, unfair teachers and yes, sometimes even my family. I thought of all the times I’d let it go and pretended it hadn’t hurt me. I’d turned the other cheek so many times, I was dizzy. Why had I let them treat me that way?

When my Phys Ed teacher commented on my ‘thunder thighs’, I wish I’d said, “I’m a healthy weight with strong legs and I hope that I’ll never try to make anyone else feel bad about that.”

When Gemma Craig called me a skank in 9^th Grade, I wish I’d said, “I’d hate to be as mean and rude as you. Is your life really that awful?”

When my older brother called me ‘the Incredible Bulk’, I wish I’d said, “We’re related, dufus, which means we share the same genetics. I would explain it to you but I have neither the time nor the crayons.”

And when my first boyfriend said that he’d break up with me if we didn’t do it because that’s what people who loved each other did, I wish I’d said, “If you loved me, you’d respect my wishes.” Instead, I lost my virginity to him and he dumped me anyway.

That still makes me sad.

This was my final year at college, this was the time when I became an adult, the person I was going to be for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to have any more regrets.

My eyes drifted to the football field where try-outs were taking place for freshmen—where Jace Barnes was putting the newbies through their paces. He was a senior, like me, and the team’s quarterback. Campus gossip said that he’d turned down a shot playing pro because he was going to med school in the fall. He was gorgeous, fit—natch—and really smart. He’d dated the same girl for the whole of last semester, but yesterday I’d heard that he was free, single, and ready to mingle. (I made that last bit up because I watched the Stiller/Wilson Starsky & Hutch recently—Huggy Bear was always my favorite, but the movie wasn’t a patch on the original TV series. Just sayin’.)

I don’t know what came over me but when Jace Barnes walked to the side of the field to grab a bottle of water, I strode towards him.

“Fake it till you make it,” I muttered to myself. “You’re Jace Barnes,” I said loudly.

He raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

“Of course you know because you’re really smart,” I babbled. “I’m really smart, too. I’m an Economics major, which is like a Math major but slightly less nerdy—only slightly. I aced the Tree Tops level on Spyro the Dragon, and I can beat Sephiroth in Kingdom of Hearts II, so I got the ink to prove it—not that I’m tatted up all over, but I’m really proud of these. And, um, oh wait, I’m nice and fun and I’m a lightweight when the tequila shots come out but I’m not a raging alcoholic or anything, and I like talking on the phone to my gran because she gets lonely since my granddad died and she’s really funny and smart. I’m loyal and I would never cheat on you. So I totally think you should date me. Ella McSwaine. That’s me. My name. What are you doing tonight?”

He stared at me, his eyes wide in something that looked a little like shock. I wish I’d been a Psych major instead so I could know for sure.

“And I also talk too much when I’m nervous.”

He was still staring at me as I walked away.

I felt like I’d run a race and heat rushed into my cheeks. I was mightily embarrassed but I’d done it. I’d totally done it. And yeah, I’d crashed and burned, but I’d tried. Which meant I had zero regrets.

I sat on a bench with my eyes closed, enjoying the last warmth of summer and the cool breeze that promised fall was on the way.

I opened one eye when I felt someone sit on the bench next to me. Then I opened the other eye when I realized that Jace Barnes was watching me.

“I like a woman with confidence.”

I blinked a couple of times to make sure that I wasn’t imagining him, because it’s totally the kind of thing I’d dream about—the hottest guy in school coming to sit on my bench and striking up a conversation.

Then I realized he was waiting for a reply.

“Um, actually I don’t have that much confidence, and the little that I have, I used it all up on talking to you in the first place.”

“And I like a woman who’s honest.”

“Uh, okay. You see, the thing is, I promised myself that I’d tell people what I really think. I mean, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I don’t want to let myself down either. Because I’m kind of amazing when you get to know me. At least, that’s what my best friend Sabbi says.”

“She sounds like a wise woman.”

“I can introduce you, if you want?”

He laughed, throwing his head back, his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at me.

“Maybe I can meet her sometime, but I’d really like to get to know you, Ella McSwaine.”

“You would? I mean, of course you would! Because any guy dating me would be lucky.”

Okay, I didn’t say that last bit because I was still in shock, but believing that I’m worth more is a work in practice … but I’m getting there.

THE END

Ella needs to grow a backbone and stop letting people use her or ignore her – which means asking out the most popular boy in college … who doesn’t even know she exists. And she finally wants to say all the things she wished she’d said.