Eventful

The last week has been the most intense of my life.
Let’s rewind.
Friday night. Emily and I pick Hunter up from work and we head downtown to a party. We all have a great time. I pull him outside at some point and we are talking to each other, and I couldn’t help myself, I told him I loved him. He made this funny face and wouldn’t look at me and I asked him what was wrong and then apologized for telling him that if it made him uncomfortable. He promised me that it wasn’t the case and that he’s actually been wanting to tell me that he loves me for awhile.
Awesome!
He also tells me that he’s been reading some of my latest stories and that he really enjoyed them.
More awesomeness happened Saturday night. Hunter and Jake (Emily’s sort of boyfriend-person at Loyola) put together a band specifically for this HUGE party that was happening. The name of the band is Velociraptor. Well, the show was amazing. Two girl singers, Jake playing the bass, this kid Derek on guitar and Hunter on the drums. Emily and I got dressed up and danced and socialized and mingled and danced more. It was literally one of the best parties I’ve been to during college.
Okay, so Emily’s feet hurt and we’re looking to throw an afterparty at my house, so we go home. Hunter and Trifilo and I go to DunkinDonuts by the el. Hunter gets a call from Ian’s dad.
Where’s Ian?
No one knows. He was at the party.
And then he wasn’t.
So then we start getting all these text messages from Ian, who won’t respond to us or answer our phone calls and then we get a call saying that he’s been at his apartment and that he left a note.
Okay, so suicidal Ian is on the loose in Chicago and now he sends his sister a message telling her he’s at Bryn Mawr and Lakeshore Drive. Ok. So we get there, the cops show up, we’re all looking for him. We get another message that he’s somewhere else.
Ugh. My feet are soaking wet and freezing. His parents are there too, so Emily and I decide to head back to the boys house. We get there. Hunter, Little Emily, Coupe and Kyle are there so we all sit for awhile and then decide that we need to go to bed.
Forty five minutes after that decision, at 5:30, Kyle comes in to tell me that Ian is here. I go in and demand all of his pills (all of his Adderall were missing, and we suspected that he may have taken some). He tells me that he doesn’t have them. I watch him as he gathers some things and then listen as he tells me that he’ll be moving out and that he’ll be back.
And then he’s gone.
8:30. We’re all sprawled around the apartment, having improvised beds and sleeping arrangements. The doorbell rings. I’m the one that answers the door. “Chicago Police.” Great. I fill them in on the developments and then go back to sleep.
Turns out Ian was picked up by his parents and then taken to the hospital of apparent Adderoll overdose.

That morning, me, Emily, Hunter, Kyle and Coupe all went out to breakfast. It was nice to be able to have all of us there and to be able to be close with everyone. We were all exhausted but it was wonderful to be with the crew. Everyone laughed and lingered until we all felt alright.
That night, we convened at our place. Another gathering filled with the closest of friends and love.
Monday morning I was taking Hunter to school on a very narrow street when, out of nowhere, a man threw his door open. Slam! I heard a crunch. My side-view mirror was cracked and I could see a man climbing out of his car to check the damage.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble, or anything, but this is a rental car.” I’m freaking out and after we exchange information, there are tears. I go home, Hunter misses class because you really shouldn’t leave me when I’m in that situation, and then we go to the police station to make a report.
The police officer is upset because the other guy didn’t come in to file the report, but tells me it’s alright, because the accident was his fault. Also, the dent that was in his door doesn’t quite match my damage, so that’s a titch suspicious.
Okay. So then Tuesday rolls around. I’m in class with a teacher who for some reason seems to have it out for me, and I pull out a bag of grapes.
“Katie,” she says, interrupting lecture, “we don’t eat grapes in this classroom. Drinks are okay, water is fine, but eating isn’t allowed.”
I mumble something about thinking that grapes didn’t count since they are water based and all of sudden, I burst into tears and have to leave the room.
Great. I spent the entire class period freaking out in the hall about everything.
I go back in and actually stood up for myself, which was cool.
And then the week got moderately better.
We played football during the warm weather that Chicago got on Saturday and then all went to dinner at Chilis and then threw an impromptu party last night, complete with our first attempt at margaritas.
The weekend flew by, and things are shaping up.

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