When lilykingbooks fell for her boyfriend’s best friend, she caused a bitter rift. Decades later, an unanticipated reconciliation shifted her understanding of the whole affair.
IN THE FALL OF MY SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE, a guy from my 17th century–literature class asked me out. We saw a movie about the Vietnam War and went back to his rented house for a beer. He was quirky and cute, but we were stiff and unnatural together, and I remember thinking, as I sat on his couch, that we probably shouldn’t go out again.
Once when I came over he’d just washed his hair, and I watched him comb the top part straight up and leave it there to dry for several minutes before brushing it to one side. Craig and Mason called him Rooster because of it. He laughed as I watched him and said it was the only way he could get his hair to dry right. This is one of my most vivid memories of college, watching Henry comb his hair up into a rooster’s crest in front of me.CRAIG AND I BEGAN TO BICKER, then fight.
When Craig returned from Europe, he was angry. He wanted Henry to break up with me, and Henry would not. During the years we were together, Henry carried on his friendship with Craig entirely separately from me, never speaking to him on the phone when I was there, always visiting him without me. That fall, my second senior fall, whenever Craig came to visit, I dropped out of sight. If they went to a party, I could not go.
“Craig saved my life,” he said. He shook his head and had to wait for his voice to come back. “I would be dead right now. He got me here in the middle of the night. He’s been sleeping right there ever since.” The party in Henry’s room went on through the evening into the night. We ordered takeout from a Chinese restaurant nearby. A musician friend played Bob Dylan and Neil Young on his guitar. Posts were coming in on the Facebook page Craig had created—many from female high school and college friends confessing their unrequited crushes in great detail. Craig and I read them out loud to Henry, and he shook his head. “Revisionist history,” he said, but he had a big grin on his face.
Craig went down to the lobby for coffee. I offered, but he insisted I stay. He was so kind to me, so warm and grateful I was there, even though I’d almost ruined their friendship decades ago. I’d always thought he was wrong to punish Henry for so long, to cut me out. Maybe I’d even suspected that Henry’s shame about our relationship was part of the reason he wasn’t able to fully commit—but I never really considered how Craig had been hurt.
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