The End: How I screwed up

Statham and I have been IMing daily. Some days it's not more than a few lines. Others it's lengthy conversations. After my usual weeknight with the dodgeballers, Statham popped up in the corner of my screen:

How was last night? Any less drama than last week?

No. Drama. Drama. Drama. You realize everyone knows, right?

Knows about what?

I frowned. Then I typed, That we have shared the sex.

Statham panicked. He opened a new IM window and began messaging Girl from Irish Pub, asking what the hell happened last night. Unfortunately all of the drama transpired after she left; she didn't know a thing. Then he contacted his ex to again profess his innocence. He got drunk, hit on me and I turned him down. End of story in his opinion. He said she isn't handling the breakup well and he didn't want to hurt her anymore than he already has.

He did all of this before I had a chance to tell him what exactly happened. After twirling with the boy, I followed Clemson and the leader of the group to a second bar. Never go to a second location on a weeknight. Just shut it down and go home. But I didn't. I perched on my bar stool between Clemson and the Leader. It was just the three of us in the entire bar and we sat there until 2 a.m.

I told dirty jokes while Clemson ribbed me. Then the Leader puffed out his chest and told me about all of his conquests among the league.

"You know all the girls on our team?" the Leader asked.

"Yup."

"I've slept with them all." He paused, "If you were on the team a few seasons ago, you would be a notch on several people's bedposts by now," said the Leader.

"I've been playing with y'all for three seasons!"

"That's right. I heard you hooked up," he said.

I threw my hands in the air. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm untainted," I professed.

"Right," he said.

Statham was never mentioned by name, and I didn't press the issue because I thought that asking what he meant could be seen as an admission of guilt. Just deny and change the subject.

I sent all of this to Statham.

He's not talking about me, typed Statham. He's talking about you going home with Clemson.

Crap. Didn't know he knew about that.

But it's impossible. I didn't do anything with Clemson. And Clemson was sitting right beside me when the Leader called me out. Clemson would have been caught lying. The person I hooked up with was Statham.

Meanwhile Statham's on the phone with his ex. Just mentioning the gossip that we hooked up hurt her. She decided to leave town for a few days to escape the situation.

Statham insisted that it's Clemson the rumor is about, not him. Then he drops the bomb on me. Everyone knows about me spending the night at his place. Statham heard it from Girl from Irish Pub and he heard it from another girl I've never even spoken to as well as other sources.

Via e-mail, I confessed the entire night. I detailed the night for him so he would know I was telling the truth and not lying, like I was doing for him.

Statham then updated me on the story he concocted for his ex-girlfriend. As he's ad libbing a new story that explains the Leader's rumor, I realized that Statham doesn't give two shits about me; he's more concerned about his ex's feelings than he is mine. Because I now officially feel like garbage. The lies and stories that we never happened are starting to hurt me. We agreed that neither of us would say anything, but the extent he's going to cover it up is beyond any effort I would put forth. It's made me feel cheap.

"I just don't know why the Leader would think we slept together. I never said anything," he told me later that afternoon on the phone.

"Um, really? Do you not remember Saturday when you said we went out and you didn't go home until 2 a.m.? Did you not see my eyes screaming at the other end of the table?" I asked.

"Just tell them we were drinking until 2 a.m." he shot back. I felt myself become smaller. It turned out he wasn't peeing on me; he was just that oblivious.

I never really heard from Statham after that. Not even on my birthday.