Confession Hat!

I look down at my phone. In the message inbox was another text from Schmoozer, identical to the one he sent me the previous day:

How's the beach?

I put the phone down and walked away, telling myself that Cell reception at the end of the country is spotty at best.

***

When I sent out the instruction e-mail to the group regarding what to pack and how to get to my beach house, I sent South Carolina bestie Kristin an additional e-mail. It detailed the pseudonyms used on the blog along with everyone's real names.

"I'm so excited. It feels like meeting characters in a book," she said. "How do we tell everyone how we know each other?"

I thought carefully, "I think telling them through our blogs will be fine. They know I used to have a public one. Mel is the only person in the 'real world' who knows about this one."

Just as I imagined, Kristin and her boyfriend fit in seamlessly. Sunday, I received a phone call from a couple of my friends from kickball. They were on Hilton Head Island, but felt too cramped on the beaches. "Is your place crowded?" my girlfriend asked.

"Ha! It's private property at the end of the island. It's literally just the eight of us. You wouldn't know if the rapture had happened." I stuck my tow in the sand and peered across the water. "I'm looking at Hilton Head right now. Why don't y'all come up here?"

And so they came. Three circles of friends laughing, swimming and drinking off the dock. Every aspect of my life was present in one beautiful place. The sun had turned into a fiery pink blaze and disappeared behind Parris Island. We traded our Dixie cups full of beer for Dixie cups full of liquor.

Mel and I had an idea and jumped on the golf cart and drove back to the house. There we grabbed a flashlight, a pad of paper, a couple of pens and a hat. We returned to the dock, using the flashlight to guide us through pitch darkness, save for the stars.

I waved the hat above my head. "Confession hat!" I hollered. It was a way for the three social circles to bond. I passed out paper. "Everybody has to put two anonymous confessions into the hat. At least one has to be true."

It was decided that I would read all of the confessions. I took out each slip of paper and began to read.

"I would make out with Bill Clinton."

"Ah! Sarah!" several people chimed. "We know that one is yours!"

"Fine!"

I grabbed another paper and began reading. Someone confessed to being a hermaphrodite (hopefully fake). Someone confessed to having a threesome in high school with an unknown girl (probably true). Someone confessed that Kristin is hot (obviously her boyfriend).

"I broke up with my boyfriend," I read.

"It's true," spoke up Katie. "Schmoozer and I are no more."

It was the first time anyone outside of Harvey had heard it directly from her. Katie is often motivated by alcohol and I imagine the liquor helped.

Everyone gave the obligatory "aww." I scratched my head. Does this paper say she broke up with him?

When the waves moving the dock became too critical to manage based on our alcohol consumption, we moved back to the house. Cups were refilled. Shots were poured. We drank into the night. It was a really, really good time. As we began to tick off the early morning hours, the kickballers left to return to their island. Others passed out where they fell. The rest tucked themselves in bed. It was just Katie, Harvey and me left standing.

I brought up Schmoozer. She reiterated that she knew the relationship was over when she offered to go home with him and he turned her down. I re-explained the Great Coffee Fiasco of 2011. I am so sick of telling this story that I no longer even want to drink coffee.

Katie, as private and as reserved as she is, is also logical. She explained she didn't hold me accountable for what happened to their relationship; she blamed Schmoozer. She said she would have been equally as upset if he went to get coffee with anyone else, including his best guyfriend.

I told her I would never date her ex-boyfriend and frankly I was hurt that I had to defend myself to Government Mule and Jenna. Harvey argued that it has more to do with Government Mule's character and less to do with mine. She reminded me that several months ago, Harvey and her sister got into a fight and Government Mule had called up the sister to explain her actions.

"When he gets an idea in his head, he believes it is right, no matter the circumstances. He called my sister. I had to tell him to stay out of it; no one messes with my family."

In the end it was decided that my character was still in tact. It was Schmoozer who told her not to go home with him that night. It was Schmoozer who didn't comfort her when she wanted to be comforted. It was Schmoozer who didn't call her for a week afterward.

And this is where I feel divided from Harvey and Katie. Harvey and Katie are ruled by logic; I am ruled by emotion. If it were me, I'd be unable to compartmentalize my role as accessory to Schmoozer's coffee crime. I would be emotionally intertwined with everyone involved.

Schmoozer is being ousted from the group. Mel, my kickball girlfriend and me all know him outside the group. And it looks like that's the way it's going to remain.