It was sort of funny to think about how we got here.
Here was the floor of Max's room, laying on my back and staring up at the white pipes jutting out from the walls, thinking about how hard it would be to get a rope around one of them. I have some of my worst thoughts when I'm in his room. I haven't told him this yet, but maybe one day I will and he'll stop inviting me to hang out.
We didn't even talk for the longest time, not like normal people do.
I met Max in person the day before classes, back when my hair was still all brown and cropped short and I wore shirts all the time. I was in Moody with Abby, my best friend here, and by fate or some stupid coincidence, Max and I crossed paths. Literally. It's so corny to think about, but that's really when Max came into my life. We've come a long way since then, and I'm so happy every time I think about it.
He was looking right at me and I couldn't stop trembling.
We'd found each other on social media over the summer, but it was wild to actually see him. I was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze and I couldn't stop giggling nervously and looking out the window. He'd asked about my classes, so I pulled out the legal pad I'd been dragging around since I'd arrived and read off my schedule. We'd signed up for the same math class—8 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My heart was flipping around like a dolphin putting on a show for the sunset, but was put at ease when he told me we'd "suffer together." It didn't quite work out that way, and I ended up scribbling all the reasons I was tired of being alive in my notebook while he got A's on tests.
It took us awhile to get to where we are. It started when I met her.
Her was Maddie, and Maddie came in later—a full three or four classes later. She was sitting at the desk right inside the door, and I threw myself down into the chair next to her when I was late to class the first day. If it wasn't for her asking me a question I had no clue how to answer, we probably wouldn't have started talking. She said something like, "do you have any idea how to do this problem?" and I just laughed and shook my head. I was so intimidated by her—she seemed older (she's only got a year on me) and cooler and was covered in freckles. Nothing scary about the freckles, it's just something I really like about her. They reminded me of stars cradling the solar system tattooed on her back. She exuded comfort and caring vibes, and she was someone I wanted in my corner when things started crashing down.
She and Max got closer faster than I did with either of them.
Who knows when or how it happened. One day I was standing there telling Max about how I was moving to a new dorm that weekend while Maddie texted away on her phone and the next they were giggling and running out of the class before it'd even began. I thought about it more when it was happening, just because I had wanted to be close with Max and it felt like I wouldn't ever have that chance—what was I compared to what they had? I was happy for them, though. They do well together.
The floor became my safe place—hasn't it always been?
I was laying on the floor of the ground level of the library, listening to Antonia-- Max's sister-- talk about going to Mexico for spring break or something, while Max and Maddie were working through his homework together. Something was said and then all of us were on the floor, and Max was telling me that his tweet about us—"Three English majors met in a math class. They suffered."— had gotten nine likes. I told him if it got another I'd pin it to my profile. It did, two days later. I didn't pin it for a couple of reasons. One, apparently you can't pin other's tweets. Two, I was okay with the first thing people saw when they clicked onto my twitter being, "hi i'm em and i like girls." It suits me a bit more than a suffering English major.
Did we really suffer, though?
It'd been maybe three months of math class together, and during that time we'd skipped class to go to the cemetery, stared at Max's Christmas light-lined window under the premise of doing homework, and cried about Excel more times than any of us can remember. I'd written Max sixteen letters and Maddie and I had platonically married each other. We were doing so well. They were some of the best moments I could recall, all because we had math together. Next semester will be different, though. Three English majors will meet in an English class. Who knows what'll happen.
I think we do, or maybe we don't.
I thought about writing this when I was sitting on Max's floor, a stupid late night when I was so overwhelmed with all that had happened and how much love I had in my heart for the two people listening to slam poetry with me. I still had panic attacks when I walked into Dana-- the Math/Science building-- and sometimes it took a lot for me to climb the endless flights of stairs to Max's room, but I was happy with them. We do well together. It's honestly all I could've wanted.
That's how we got here.
Except here wasn't the floor of Max's room or the seat right inside the door in math class. It wasn't anything physical, not like how it felt to hold Maddie's hand or the initial awkwardness of hugging Max and not wanting to let go. Here is in the hearts of two of my closest friends-- they've got a piece of mine forever.
