Returning To You

I half-laugh at the thought, because the universe has made its opinion of me quite clear in the past year. But the strangled laugh actually manages to calm me somewhat. I grab my water bottle from the table and take a long gulp before beginning my counting exercises.

It’s one thing to want to be strong, to want to move on and just get back to normal. But to actually do it is a different thing entirely. The truth is, I’m not normal. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding myself of this, not after everything that has happened. The fact that I’m sitting here, alone, in an empty apartment without a single friend to my name should be all the proof that I need. I am broken, and I’m not going to be fixed any time in the near future.

The sooner I finally accept that, the better off I’ll be.

***

I don’t expect to see Paige again until our next class, so I’m surprised to find her sitting in my usual seat in my twentieth-century lit lecture the next day.

She, however, doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “I thought it was you,” she says, smiling broadly. “I usually sit back there”—she points across the room—”and I remembered seeing someone in this row with hair like yours. After we met yesterday, I wondered if maybe it was you. And it was!”
I smile, feeling nervous. I had planned to hide away in the back row of econ next week, hopefully avoiding her for the rest of the semester. No such luck.

“Sit down,” she says, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.
Not seeing much choice in the matter, I do as she asks, pulling my sweatshirt sleeves over my palms as I do. Instinctively, I hunch into my hoodie, wishing she would stop looking at me.
“So you’re pretty shy, huh?”
I gape at her, momentarily forgetting how uncomfortable I am. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as bold as this chick is.

“Sorry.” She gives me a rueful smile. “Karen is always telling me I need a filter between my brain and mouth.”
“It’s okay.” I stare at the space just below her chin. I’m really bad at eye contact, which I guess kind of proves her point. “Yeah, I’m pretty shy.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I should probably work on being more shy, you know?”
"No, it's better to be confident. Believe me."

She sighs. “There is a such thing as too confident. Sometimes I fall into that category. It’s gets me into all kinds of trouble.”
I think about the history class I’m failing. “Shy gets me into trouble too.”
I stopped going to class midway through the term when I found out I would be required to work in a group and give a twenty-minute presentation in front of the whole class. I just couldn’t do it. My father had been furious when I finally admitted it to him. If I would have called him when I found out, he could have talked to someone in the counseling office and gotten me excused from the assignment. I knew that, but I was just so sick of him making “arrangements” for me. I wanted to show him that this whole college thing was out of my league.

The professor starts her lecture far below us in the hall, and I’m relieved to have an excuse to stop talking to Paige, but I really hate this class. Professor Davis is an ancient-looking, soft-spoken woman who spends the entire lecture hunched over the podium in the center of the room. I can barely hear her half the time, and the murmuring of classmates who know they can get away with goofing off is very distracting.

“So,” Paige whispers, “have you thought at all about coming with us? I think you’d have fun.”
“I don’t know. I’m probably taking classes this summer.”
Her look of horror almost makes me laugh out loud.
“Classes in the summer? Are you insane?”
I don’t answer, keeping my eyes firmly on the professor. Maybe Paige will get the hint.
She doesn’t. “You have to have a summer. It’s like, human rights or something. Taking classes would be way too depressing.”

I make a noncommittal noise. The lease on my apartment is for a full twelve months. I’m not exactly looking forward to summer school, but if I stay here and take classes, I won’t have to go back to my dad’s place. And missing the first semester already has me behind the rest of the freshman class.
“That’s all the more reason for you to come with us,” she says, her voice firm. “I’m not going to take no for an answer, Daisy.”

I have a sinking feeling she isn’t joking. How am I going to get out of this mess? “I… um… I really can’t. I’ve got some other—”
“Have you ever been on a road trip before? With your friends, I mean? ’Cause it’s like, my very favorite kind of trip. Seriously, Daisy…”
I know that she’s still talking, but in my head, I’m hundreds of miles away. I’m in the back of a van, smushed between Andy and Jinxx' amplifier, while Jake tries in vain to navigate the unfamiliar streets of Pittsburg. Andy calls out a steady stream of abuse, making me laugh, while Ashley moans from the front passenger seat. He always got the worst motion sickness. I wonder how he’s doing now, since their road trip has morphed into a full-out cross-country tour.
“Daisy?” Paige whispers, nudging my arm. “You okay?”
I shake my head, dispelling the memory. “Yeah.” I hunch over my notebook, scrawling down every word I can make out from the professor’s lecture.

From the corner of my eye, I see Paige lean back in her chair, her eyes still on me. But she doesn’t press and, eventually, her attention falls to her own notebook. I release a relieved breath. It’s been a long time since I let myself wallow in those memories. Seeing all those pictures yesterday really sent me for a loop.
When the professor finally releases the class, I’m hopeful that Paige will leave without talking to me. Surely she can see that there’s something not quite right about me. It usually takes most people much less time than this.
Apparently, Paige is not most people. “Look,” she says, standing and throwing her bag over her shoulder. “You should come have dinner with us tonight in the dorm. We’ll order takeout or something, and Karen and I can talk you into coming with us.”

I can’t figure out why she’s trying so hard. Though I’ve made an effort not to be rude, I’m clearly not reciprocating her friendliness. I’m just too awkward, too damaged to be of interest to her. So what’s going on? A shiver runs through me. Could this be part of some kind of joke? Does she know?
My curiosity is strong enough to risk making eye contact. I look up at her, searching her face for any sign of malice or judgment. “Why are you trying to convince me? I’m obviously not… not the most social person you’ve met this week. If you guys need someone to split costs, I bet there are a hundred girls on campus more… that you’d have more fun with.”
She watches me for what feels like minutes. Just as my panic is about to get the best of me, she smiles. “I don’t know, Daisy. I just get the feeling you could use a little fun in your life. And maybe some people who are nice.”
I’m so floored by that comment that I can’t even formulate a response. Before I manage to close my gaping mouth, she pats me softly on the shoulder.
“See you tonight? 306 Hale. Say, seven?” She grins. “Karen gets cranky if she doesn’t eat on time, so don’t be late.”
Then she turns on her heel and heads to the door, leaving me to sit and stare after her, wondering what in the hell just happened.

Notes

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