Betrayal
In high school, I dated my best friend Drew. We have successfully proven that exes can remain good friends, because we still talk at least once a month despite our horrendous college schedules. (Yes, Drew, although I am an English major, I still have to do things . . . sometimes). On occasion, I wonder if he has remained friends with me simply to hang out with my family. For example:
Our freshman year of college, I saw package after package of goodies delivered to the girls in my hall. One of my best friends, whose parents lived thirty minutes away sent her a package at least once a month. I never got anything. That was ok. I was mostly confident that my parents loved me, but I would whine to Drew about it every time we Skyped, which at that point was once every two or three days.
I told him that I had never even gotten cookies or brownies delivered from my parents in Florida. He was taken aback. "But, Mary," he stuttered, "your mom sent me brownies last week." I didn't believe him at first. I didn't want to believe him. But he was dead serious and even offered to call my mother with me and ask her.
We called my mom and put her on speakerphone, Drew said, "Mrs. Fulton, Mary doesn't believe that you sent me brownies last week. Thank you, by the way, they were delicious." My mother confirmed to her one and only daughter living over 2,000 miles away that she had sent her ex-boyfriend brownies, leaving her chocolate-less and unloved.
Drew described in detail over the next few days the delicious, gooey, homemade brownies that my mother had lovingly sent him while she apologized profusely for her misdeeds.
I found out about two weeks later that it was an elaborate ruse. Drew had lied on the spot and my mother had sensed Drew's subtextual plea and complied with his evil plan. My ex-boyfriend and my mother were in cahoots.
I still haven't gotten any brownies.
Our freshman year of college, I saw package after package of goodies delivered to the girls in my hall. One of my best friends, whose parents lived thirty minutes away sent her a package at least once a month. I never got anything. That was ok. I was mostly confident that my parents loved me, but I would whine to Drew about it every time we Skyped, which at that point was once every two or three days.
I told him that I had never even gotten cookies or brownies delivered from my parents in Florida. He was taken aback. "But, Mary," he stuttered, "your mom sent me brownies last week." I didn't believe him at first. I didn't want to believe him. But he was dead serious and even offered to call my mother with me and ask her.
We called my mom and put her on speakerphone, Drew said, "Mrs. Fulton, Mary doesn't believe that you sent me brownies last week. Thank you, by the way, they were delicious." My mother confirmed to her one and only daughter living over 2,000 miles away that she had sent her ex-boyfriend brownies, leaving her chocolate-less and unloved.
 |
| A is my mother, B is Drew, and C stands for calloused and bitter |
I found out about two weeks later that it was an elaborate ruse. Drew had lied on the spot and my mother had sensed Drew's subtextual plea and complied with his evil plan. My ex-boyfriend and my mother were in cahoots.
I still haven't gotten any brownies.
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