Kinsley

I make it through an hour of pointless topics and dealing with people I don't belong with.

When one hour hits, I leave. I do so in a sneaky way so no one notices. I wait until Noel has gone to the washroom. Until Cole, Tristan, and Mariana are playing a game of pool. Before exiting the pub, I pay my bill.

Outside, the air cools my heated cheeks. I take a deep breath.

Going out with them was a mistake. Why did I think I owed Noel anything? I'm his lab partner, for God's sake!

Being judgemental is wrong. But there's only so much I can handle. Tristan pissed me off tonight. She's dating Cole to get closer to Noel. I can tell by her flirting. No matter how many times Noel pushes her away, she rebounds. I wonder if Cole notices.

Having a man like Cole beside me... God. I'd do anything to have Aaron back. I glance at the empty air beside me. My gaze falls on the cement. I can't believe Tristan is imprudent enough to ignore Cole's kindness. She's pining over his best friend. Not him. It makes me sick.

Speaking of Cole... he's the only one I could handle spending time with. He's sweet and respectful. His British humour is quite entertaining. Even if some of the sayings he uses are strange to my ears. Mariana isn't bad, either. She's well-reserved and stays fairly quiet.

However... None of them are very aware. Noel shut down my opinion. He was ignorant, and no one stood up for me. It disappointed me. I thought Cole would. Or at least Mariana.

Noel and his passive-arrogance infuriates me. He's charming in one breath. In the next, he's self-absorbed. He's quick to input his opinion on everything, as if it overpowers anyone else's. We're all entitled to our own opinions... so long as we respect the other person's.

There was never a chance for me to back up my statement. I didn't elaborate on my views on the concept of pain. He skimmed over my opinion. His tone basically confirmed his opinion meant more. Disagreements are allowed. You still have to respect each other, though. My beliefs are from personal experience.

Sighing, I sling my purse over my shoulder and head down the sidewalk. The sidewalks are littered with decaying leaves, and the air is bitter. I wouldn't be surprised if it started to snow.

When I'm with the three of them, I feel even more dysfunctional than I already am. My mind can't handle the attention or the conversations and how quickly they change. It's overwhelming for me. Coming here was a mistake. I knew they weren't my people.

This mistake is all my fault. People say we attract people that are like ourselves. And God knows I'm a dysfunctional disaster.

Another thing I can't stand is that they waste their time on pointless topics. They discuss topics that have been generalized and embedded into our heads as conversation topics. When I talk to people, I want to know what keeps you up at night. I want to know your fears. Something that means the world to you. I want to know that person for who they really are.

Which is why my mind is fucked.

Theses are topics I never discuss anymore. Discussing them means becoming closer. Honestly, I'd prefer no conversations at all. I'd rather be a shadow.

I regret going out, but at least I have learned a valuable lesson. Never again will I assume pub nights and large groups are a good thing for me.

Feeling deflated, I limp across the crosswalk. Tonight, the ache in my knee is prominent. I'll have to ice it since I can't run a warm bath. My body strains for a private bathroom. I miss lighting scented candles, dimming the lights, running a warm bubble bath. Back then, I used to read until the bubbles were gone and the water was cold.

Halfway back, I hear Noel's voice.

"You know it's rude to leave without saying goodbye, right?"

Turning around, I see Noel standing there. He's dressed in his ripped jeans. The flannel is around his waist. His arms are bare, save for the silvery scars he has. I want to inspect these scars and find their origin. However, I keep my gaze locked with his. He's a fool. How is he not freezing cold?

Despite his idiocy, he's devilishly handsome beneath the streetlight.

My mouth pulls to one side.

"My anxiety was too much," I reply, crossing my arms. "Large groups aren't good for me. I made a mistake, Noel."

His gaze flicks down to my knee.

Fear fills my stomach. I hope he didn't notice how bad I was limping. Usually, I can hide my limp. Tonight, it's acting up. The ache is prominent. I hope he doesn't ask questions.

"That still ain't a good enough reason to leave without saying goodbye." He cocks an eyebrow.

I shake my head, biting back a smile. Why the hell do I want to smile? "You've got an opinion for everything."

His mouth curves as he shrugs and walks toward me, stopping when we're at arm's length apart. "Is that why you left? Because our opinions were different?"

"No," I reply. "I left because you don't have the common courtesy to acknowledge our opinions don't overpower each other. People believe in different religions, so having different opinions shouldn't be a problem. Yet you made it seem like my opinion was nothing."

A look of guilt crosses his face. I know I've caught him. Satisfied with my last words, I turn around and limp away.

Who cares if he sees me limp? It's part of who I am. I don't have to answer any of his questions.

"I'm sorry, Kinsley," he calls out.

I freeze, glancing over my shoulder. He looks strange, standing there alone beneath the streetlamp.

"About?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow. He needs to take accountability.

Noel sighs, running a hand through his dark blond hair. "I'm sorry," he says, closing the space between us. "For disregarding your opinion and inviting three other people. It should have just been the two of us. I invited others without your opinion. You're... You have anxiety, Kinsley. You've made that clear. I thought Tristan and Mariana would be good back up for you. I underestimated your independence. For that, I'm sorry. Next time it will be just the two of us."

I raise my eyebrows. "What makes you think there will be a next time?"

He grins. "You're stubborn. However, I have this odd feeling you're someone who will give a nervous, inexperienced person like me another chance."

I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "You? Nervous? I saw you perform on stage and you seemed fine."

His grin broadens. "Ha! So you stayed to listen to me."

A smile tugs at my lips.

It's alarming. He's making me smile with purpose. Ever since the accident, only my grandparents have been able to do so.

"I never said I hated country music. And I'm willing to admit you're one of the best cover-singers I have heard."

His brown eyes brighten with hope.

"So?" he asks. "Will you give me a chance to not act like a dick? I'm not that bad one-on-one."

I contemplate his offer. I'm wary about spending time alone with him. One-on-one is better than group outings, though.

Besides, it wouldn't hurt to get to know him a little more. So far, he's been a great lab partner. Every assignment we've completed together has come back in the high nineties. Honestly, I don't mind working with him until December.

"Fine," I say. "You have a deal."

"Great," Noel replies. His grin returns, showing off the dimples. I try not to stare at them. "And because I failed at the first attempt, how about you decide where we go? You are the one who doesn't like pubs."

I ponder his suggestion. It would be nice to go somewhere quiet and tame. I've been to three places on campus—the pub, the small café next to the dorm rooms, and the cafeteria. All have been loud. A subdued place with mellow tunes and good sushi would be perfect. I make a mental note to research sushi restaurants.

"You're on the right track," I nod, adjusting the strap of my bag. "I'll text you when I'm free."

"Great," he repeats.

Without another word, I turn around, limping back to the dorm rooms. I'm exhausted. Now, instead of dreaming about a nice hot bubble bath, I'm dreaming about finding a bed and falling fast asleep.

If I'd known living on campus was going to be so stressful, I might have sucked it up and stayed with my aunt and uncle.

If there's one thing I don't miss, it's those heart-wrenching looks of pity that make me feel like an outcast. While the pain I've faced has made me weak and broken, I do like the mirage of being normal.

If a busy lifestyle and forcing myself to be social is the price I have to pay, then so be it.