If you missed Part 1, read it here.
I wonder what will become of all of us, I thought to myself as I stuffed another box in my car, wishing to be on the road. And where will I call home? And how very much I hate goodbyes and living in such uncertainty.
But I leave for Italy in three days! I cheered. And this is really just a new beginning! Which can be exciting! And --
"Hey Sara!" a cheery voice called from the balcony.
I looked up to see Michelle bouncing down the stairs towards my swollen car.
"Hey! How's it going?" I wiped my forehead.
When did she get home? I wondered. Hmm...I wonder if she's opened the--
"Do you know a 'Michelle'?" she asked loudly.
My heart stopped. I licked my lips nervously as the blood drained from my face.
"Wh--whaaat did you ask?"
"Do you know someone named 'Michelle'? Someone left this random card on our door and my roommates and I are trying to figure out who it's for. Strange, huh?" she stared at me.
"Um...yeah..." I said weakly as my stomach wound itself into a mess of knots.
Okay, stay calm. Don't panic. DO NOT PANIC. I told myself sternly. You can totally handle this. You can totally...HOLY CRAP WHAT CAN BE DONE?!!? Tell her you did it and make her feel EVEN WORSE that you don't EVEN KNOW HER FREAKING NAME AFTER TWO YEARS?!?!?
Like, oh hey, yeah those nice words were meant for you--whoever you are--because I wanted to be kind but DIDN'T TAKE THE TIME TO EXCHANGE BASIC INFORMATION WITH YOU. BECAUSE I WAS ALWAYS RUNNING FROM YOU. BECAUSE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON WHO ALWAYS HAS A FULL BLADDER!!! Judge me, neighbor girl. JUUUUDGE MEEEEEE!!!
Wait a freaking minute.
I could...I mean, no one would know...I could just tell her...
"Nope," I squeaked, swallowing the lump of rising panic in my throat. "I don't know a Michelle. Good luck though. That is pretty strange."
I darted up the stairs just as fast as my wobbly legs would carry me. I dashed into the apartment and collapsed on the chair, defeated, exhausted and utterly humiliated.
Oh, if only my roommate were home! I moaned. What's a girl to do?! How do I redeem this mess? PEGGY POST HELP ME!
I took a deep breath and surveyed the never-ending pile of all that still needed to make it into my car before I could escape.
Okay, my eyes narrowed. The plan is to move AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. Throw crap around. Squish. Squeeze. Stack. Push. Do WHATEVER IT TAKES to get OUT of here!
And with that, I worked with a feverish zeal. I avoided Michelle-who-wasn't's door. I zipped to and from the car. I was on a roll. I was on a mission. MUST GET OUT lest she corner me again!!!
On a return trip, it hit me with a sickening thud that things were not quite so simple.
Sure, I could leave. I could drive off with a bad conscience. I was prepared for that.
But what I hadn't realized is that I would be deceiving no one.
For as I played and replayed the turn of the afternoon's events, I realized I had SIGNED the card.
And not ONLY had I signed my name, but ladies and gentlemen, honestly thinking that there was a CHANCE SHE WOULDN'T KNOW MY NAME (ohhhh cruel, cruel world!) I had FOLLOWED my name with a quick "Love, Your neighbor from Apt. 14!!!"
And thus, dear friends, there would be no mistaking WHO sent the card and after a bit of calculating, all fingers would point to yours truly quite easily and obviously and she would KNOW I lied and always and forever I'd be That Girl, The Liar and Card-Giver to People with Random Names and Name-Forgetter and OH DEAR LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
Mind reeling and rationality long gone, I settled on one way--the only way--to fix this terrible mess.
TAKE BACK THE CARD.
But could it be done?
(Part 3 will be posted tomorrow. Thanks for reading!)