Returning To You

That was pretty brutal in there,” she says. “I would have freaked out if it was me.”
I shrug again, wishing she would head in the other direction once we reach the hall. No such luck.

“He’s such an ass,” she goes on, her voice lower. “I mean, why can’t he just call on the people who volunteer? If someone’s hand isn’t up, they clearly don’t feel like sharing, you know? And who the hell gives a shit about Keyes, or whatever the dude’s name is?”
I smile in spite of myself. “I sure don’t.”
She stops and holds out her hand. “I’m Paige.”

I look at her for the first time. She’s taller than I am, which isn’t saying much, and decked out in tight, hot-pink skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair is a mess of ebony curls that brush against her eyebrows, ears, and nose.

“Daisy.” I shake her hand, feeling shy. Will she be able to tell that she’s the first person I’ve introduced myself to the entire semester?

“Nice to meet you, Daisy. Hey, you going to lunch now?”
A shot of panic rushes through me. She seems nice enough, but I don’t think I can handle eating with her. Before I can come up with an excuse, her purse starts ringing.
She pulls out her phone and answers it. “Hey. Yeah, I just got out. Meet you at Subway? Come on, Karen, I can’t eat that crap. No. No. Fine. I’m bringing a friend.” She winks at me. “Yeah. Okay. See you.” She slips her phone back into her bag. “That was my friend Karen. She’ll meet us outside the food court.”

I shift my backpack to my other shoulder. I hadn’t agreed to join her, but what could I say? Paige was already off on a tangent, something about the offerings at the food court and how hard it is to find decent, nontoxic food anywhere on campus.
“At least it’s better than the dorms, I’ll give them that,” she says, brushing her hair behind her ear.

I’m starting to get a headache. Paige talks fast, throwing her hands around as she does so, and this is the first time I’ve tried to hold an actual conversation with a peer in months. Had talking to strangers always been this exhausting?
“We live in Hale,” she says. “What about you?”
“Uh, I’m not in the dorms.”

Her face clouds a little. “Really? Are you in a sorority?”
I nearly choke, the laughter hits me so hard. “No,” I say as she thumps me on the back. The very thought is absurd. How would I get into a sorority? “I have an apartment off campus.”
“Wow!” Her eyes flick across my face. “Are you an upperclassman?”
Shit. I should have just lied. Eastern Tennessee University has a strict policy about freshman living in dorms. I do not want to have to explain my situation to her. I realize I’m playing with the straps of my bag and lower my hands. “No, I’m a freshman. I… uh, got permission to be off campus. It’s a long story.” I mentally cross my fingers that she doesn’t ask to hear it. There’s no way I’m getting into that with a stranger. She watches me for a moment, and I feel the heat start to inch its way up my neck again.

“You’re lucky,” she finally says, looking away. “The dorms are hella lame.”
We continue toward the food court, and I feel increasingly awkward. I should have made up an excuse, any excuse, to get out of this.
“So what’s your major?” Paige asks.

I feel a fresh wave of embarrassment. She must feel the awkwardness as well, to resort to such lame small talk.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I say, fiddling with my bag strap again. “My dad is making me take a bunch of business classes. He wants me to be a business major.”
Paige makes a face. “That sounds painfully boring.”
“What about you?”

“I’m into drawing, so I might try graphic design. Or advertising. Definitely something creative.”
I rack my brain for possible follow-up questions. I know the polite thing, the normal thing, is to ask her about her classes, or why she’s interested in graphic design, or… something. But my tongue seems to stumble over the words. I can feel another flush coming to my face, and shame wells inside me. I’m completely hopeless. Pathetic.
I thank my lucky stars when we reach the Student Center. Paige’s friend will be here, and I’ll be off the hook conversation-wise. Sure enough, Paige waves to a tall blonde waiting by the entrance.

When we reach the girl, Paige gives her a quick, one-armed hug. “Hey, Karen.” She gestures at me. “This is Daisy. She suffers through the hell of Bartlet’s class with me.”
Karen smiles. “Hey, Daisy, nice to meet you.”
I give Karen a quick wave, hating the way her eyes flick up and down my figure. I had expected her to be a clone of Paige with her bold clothes and curly hair, so I’m surprised by her relatively unobtrusive flowery sundress. Her hair is straight and falls halfway down her back, and her teeth are so perfectly white and even that she could be in toothpaste commercials.
“Let’s get in line,” she says, turning away to enter the building. “We decided on Panda Express, right?”
“No, we did not,” Paige says firmly. “I said I wanted Subway. And it’s my turn to pick.”
“I’m tired of Subway. It’s all you eat. I need some fucking grease, okay, Paige?”
I wasn’t expecting Karen to have such a mouth. Do beauty queens talk that way?
But Paige laughs, clearly used to this kind of language from her friend. “Let’s just get pizza.”
“Score,” Karen says happily, leading the way to the pizza line. “I can get sausage and pepperoni, and you can get whatever green healthy shit you want.”
“You know, you’ll eventually gain weight, eating the way you do,” Paige says. “Then you’ll be begging me for my healthy tips.”
“Keep dreaming.”
I follow them over to the line. It’s hard keeping up with their flurry of conversation, but I would rather listen than join in. And if I can manage to shovel down my pizza fast enough, I should be able to get out of here in ten minutes. My good luck lasts about as long as it takes to get our pizza and find a seat in the busy food court.
Paige says, “Daisy and I bonded over your favorite thing on earth, Karen.”
“Yeah?” Karen asks, turning her brown eyes to me. “What would that be?”
I look at Paige, at a loss, and she grins. “The hottie.”
Karen’s face lights up. “Might this have something to do with my favorite rocker?”
Oh. That.
“It does indeed.” Paige closes her eyes, a dreamy expression on her face. “The one and only Andy Biersack.”

Notes