Tiffany:
The next day, Harry called to invite me to a special event on Wednesday night. Excited that he was taking initiative, I mentioned it to Brit, expecting a snarky answer. She only smiled and said, “That’s great.” I knew she wasn’t thrilled, but I appreciated she kept her opinions to herself.
“You look beautiful.” Harry beamed a smile at me when I opened the door to my dorm room on Wednesday night, and my heart skipped a beat. I had no idea where we were going. All I knew was that it was important to him, and we couldn’t be late. He was seriously dressed up. The boy had on a suit, and I practically had to push my tongue back in my mouth. That tie alone was killer. Fantasies of pulling him into the bedroom by the tie started running through my mind. This friend thing was crazy hard. Especially when my mind started hoping again.
Hoping against hope that the suit and special event meant he finally wanted to take our relationship to the next level, it was hard to remain calm. But when he parked in a church parking lot, the only thing I had was more questions. Although raised Catholic, I hadn’t been to mass in years, and if this was his idea of a hot date, Harry really was out of the loop.
He escorted me to a door behind the church that led to a descending staircase. When I saw the basement, I knew one thing—we were both over-dressed. Harry escorted me to a row of aluminum fold out chairs in a row close to the back. I looked around at the people that walked in. They all looked so happy to see each other. I eyed the cross hanging on the back wall and wondered if Harry was a part of some weird cult. Was he like a crazy Jesus freak, and had he brought me here to finally confess his adoration for the Lord? Nothing made sense. Why was this place so important to him?
“Um, there’s coffee and cake, but if you’d rather wait we could always go someplace afterwards to get a bite. Perhaps the Draught? I know you like it there.”
Oh, now he wanted to go to the Draught? My brain had officially been split into a million pieces as I tried to make sense of what was going on. I only nodded as Harry pointed to an empty seat and then walked over to a woman standing beside a podium. The woman called for everyone’s attention, and one by one, the people began to shuffle into their seats. “Good evening, friends. I’m glad you could all make it out here on this chilly night. We have a special guest speaker whom most of you know. He has asked to share his story tonight, so without further ado, I would like to turn the mic over to him. Please give a warm welcome to Harry.”
The audience clapped, the sound uninspiring as Harry smiled and let out a big breath before raising the mic. Once adjusted, he looked directly at me. “Hello. My name is Harry Archer, and I am a drug addict.”
It felt as though someone had pulled the chair out from under me and all I could do was flail my arms about, trying to grasp for safety, as I tumbled down a dark hole, falling helpless into the abyss of Harry’s truth.