Cat was upset. This was never a good thing.

Cat is Catherine Willet, one of my housemates. Actually, she's the housemate. She's the leader, the driving force—that's just her personality. She's the one that got the six of us together to live in the house we share. In fact, we even call the house The Cat's Lair, as a kind of silly little joke, because she was the impetus towards getting the house. We're all juniors at Endicott College, and all friends. And, don't get me wrong, I love Cat. But she's a person of very strong moods, and they can sometimes be hard to take.

And she wasn't talking. We didn't know why she was upset. Until I got a little hint—I saw her out in our backyard, and she had Marc Destrie wrapped up in a hug.

Marc's one of Cat's best friends. They've known each other since junior high. They'd been friends all through junior high and high school, and then right into college. There was never anything romantic between them—they aren't each other's type—but they're the best of friends. I gathered, from what I saw, that Cat's foul mood had something to do with Marc.

So, when I saw her in the house, I asked her. "What's up with Marc?"

"Marc?"

"I saw you guys earlier today, out in the yard. You were holding him. He looked upset."

Cat sighed. "Between me and you, Colleen, OK?" I nodded. "He caught Candy screwing another guy. Evidently this wasn't the first."

"Ah, shit," I said. Candy had been his girlfriend since the beginning of freshman year. I never liked the bimbo—but to each his own.

"Got that right. He's devastated." She snorted. "I don't know why, I never liked that little shit. But Marc was in love with her, yadda yadda yadda."

Damn. Of all the people that didn't deserve this, Marc was at the top of the list. Because of his friendship with Cat, all of us at the house knew him, of course. He was a hell of a nice guy.

It was a couple days later that I finally got to talk to him. He came around looking for Cat, but Cat could sometimes be hard to find in the fall. Fall was field hockey season, and Cat was on the team. She was one of the captains, in fact, and as a junior. Cat could really play. So, when Marc came looking for her, she was off doing something field hockey related. Marc looked dismayed.

"Look, she told me a little bit what happened. I saw you guys in the yard the other day, so I knew something was wrong." He nodded. I smiled at him. "If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm available."

He returned a weak smile. "Wouldn't want to bring you down."

"Ah, fuck that." I led him to my room. "Wendy's not around." Wendy was my roommate. "Talk."

He let out a deep, long sigh. "I just feel like such a damn loser."

I had to laugh. "You're no loser, Marc."

"I lost Candy, didn't I? And nobody knows, you know. Just Cat—and now, you. I keep putting on the happy face. I'm so ashamed to tell anyone."

"Why?"

"Getting cuckolded is pretty embarrassing. And, all of a sudden, the love of my life is gone? I can't take it."

I took a deep breath and thought about what I wanted to say. "Marc, listen. I know it hurts, but you might end up better off in the long run. I mean, at least you found out now."

He looked at me suspiciously. "You never liked Candy."

"No, I didn't," I admitted. "But, look, Marc, there's reasons for that. I always found her selfish and self-centered. Everything was All About Candy. I think even you'd have to agree with that now, just a little bit."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Do you know, she didn't want to break up with me? Oh, she still loves me, she just wants other guys on the side, because she needs 'variety'."

I let out a hiss. "Jesus. But that's what I said, Marc. Selfish. Fuck anyone else's feelings, even if it's your boyfriend's, just do whatever makes Candy happy."

"I know, but it doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Of course it doesn't. Last time I checked, you were human," I grinned at him. I got a weak little grin in return, at least. "You invested a lot of time and emotional energy in the relationship."

"Thank you, Doctor O'Brien," he laughed.

"Well, I am a psychology major," I laughed back.

"Oh, good," he laughed, "psychoanalysis for free."

"And worth every penny," I joked back. "Marc? I'm sorry. I really am. I know this must hurt. I could give you all the cliches. You know, there's fish in the sea, you'll find someone better, yadda yadda yadda. But I know it hurts."

"You sound like you've been there."

I sighed. "Yeah. Some time ago, mind you, in high school. But we went out from midway through freshman year until the end of junior. And it was a very similar situation." He looked at me. I took a deep breath, and told him. "He went to bed with my best friend the night of our junior prom."

"Oh Jesus."

"Yeah. So, I know what you're going through, believe me. And, though I know now that I am better off without him, that I was deluding myself—at the time, it hurt like hell."

"Does it still?"

"Nah. I'm over it."

"Then why don't you date?" he asked suddenly.

Oh SHIT. Where did that come from? "What are you talking about? I date."

"Coll, you haven't had a boyfriend in the more-than-two-years I've known you. Hell, I once asked Cat if you were gay."

I broke up laughing. "That's a good one. Nope, girls don't do a thing for me. And I do date, Marc. It's just casual. I guess I'm a little gun-shy about relationships. Too many guys are assholes."

He laughed. "I could turn that one around on you right about now."

"Yeah, you could, couldn't you?" I laughed. "Not all girls are Candy. I'm not."

"Well, not all guys are your high school guy. I'm not."

"Good point," I agreed. "Anyhow, look, Marc. If you need a friend, you know where I am, OK?"

He smiled, and leaned over and gave me a little hug. "Thanks, Coll. It means a whole lot.

--The End--

This is the second story in this story arc. The next one is Not A Second Time. The first one was No Reply.