“What did you end up writing about?” Casey asked as I handed her the rest of the papers from the people behind me. We had been reading Nathanial Hawthorne’s Young Goodman Brown. I’d really enjoyed it and I had gotten into my topic.
“I ended up writing about the role of Satan,” I told her quietly.
“Wow. That’s good! I just did a plot analysis. It totally sucked.” Casey made a face. I didn’t respond.
I was hesitantly pleased with my paper. I think I had done a good job, but considering the chaos of my evening I couldn’t be sure. I hated that I wanted to focus on this. That I really wanted to give it a shot, but it seemed like everything else in my life was determined to get in the way.
Dania had stuck around for another hour after her flip out. I had practically counted down the minutes until she left. By the time she went out the door she had somehow convinced me to go apartment hunting later in the week.
I didn’t want to live with her. I’d rather chew off my own arm. But somehow she made me feel that I owed it to her. Good to know her friendship was so conditional.
I had been more than eager to get to school the next day. Somehow, someway in the last month, Black River Community College had become my sanctuary. I was only there for four hours a week but it was enough to keep me going the rest of the time.
Being on campus, sitting in class, talking about things like symbolism and plot devices, I could put some distance between Ellie burgeoning college student and Ellie my life sucks and I’ll never get out of Wellsburg McCallum.
It had been almost two weeks since I had ended up at Flynn’s house. Two weeks and I watched and waited for him to pop back up at the most inconvenient moment.
Imagine my disappointment when it was almost as though he had vanished.
And that annoyed me. And it annoyed me that it annoyed me.
Sure, I could have gone to the art studio. Flynn had asked me to stop by after all. I could have appeased my potentially destructive Flynn Hendrick curiosity and gotten it out of my system by seeing him again.
But I just couldn’t.
I was more than embarrassed by my behavior the last time I had seen him. I had been weak. I had been vulnerable. I had been a big, whiny ass**le.
Flynn represented a life I had left behind me. A world I had severed ties to when I had gone to juvie.
A world I thought I’d never exist in again.
I had lost everything because of that unusual man and I was beginning to think he had no idea.
I had held onto my bitterness and anger for so long it had become a part of me. If I let it go I wasn’t sure what I’d be left with.
My anger had kept me strong. It kept me whole. It was part of the person I had become.
As I talked with Flynn in his moonlit yard, I felt the snarls of my rage loosen and fade away.
It had everything to do with the way he spoke to me. The way he had me reminiscing. The way he had reminded me of the girl I had been. One that wasn’t angry. That wasn’t bitter.
He made me remember a lonely girl who had been drawn to a sad boy and had found comfort in him.
I had to push him away. It’s what I did. It’s how I ensured my continued survival. It’s how I protected my heart. I had to destroy the renewed connection before it had a chance to destroy me.
Keeping my distance seemed the only real way to do that. But it also felt like a coward’s way out.
And if I knew anything, it was that Ellie McCallum was no coward.
After class, I gathered my things and walked with purposeful strides across the manicured lawns.
“I see you found your way to class.” I stopped and turned to see the sunburned girl walking in the same direction I was headed.
Her brown hair was now in matted dreads down her back and her sunburn had faded into a healthy, golden brown.
“Guess so,” I responded, not in the mood for superficial conversation. The girl was clearly not tuned into subtle cues because she fell into step beside me. I gave her the ubiquitous once over and rolled my eyes. She was obviously of the pseudo hippie persuasion with patched jeans and dirty toes peeping over the edges of her battered Birkenstocks. Just give the girl a second hand guitar and the look would be complete.
“Is this your first year?” she asked and I thought about ignoring her. I hadn’t come to school to make friends. Hell, I could barely tolerate the ones I had, so I wasn’t looking to acquire any new ones. And small talk would invariably lead to conversation, which would end up in invitations to hang out and expectations to develop a relationship I wasn’t interested in beginning.
But some strange compulsion had me answering her honestly. “Yeah. It is. You?” Shit, why had I asked her that? Now she would think I was interested in anything she had to say.
“Nope. I’m a second year. I plan to transfer out of here in the spring. Get my Bachelor’s. Do something with my life, ya know?”
No I didn’t know. But I didn’t tell her that. No sense in unloading my lack of forward planning with a girl who obviously hadn’t washed her hair in a while.
I didn’t respond and we fell into silence. Awkward for me, easy and comfortable for her.
“I’m Kara Baker,” she said, offering her name in the same tone you offer a cigarette. Unbothered. Noncommittal. Whatever.
I nodded and kept quiet. She laughed after a few minutes. “Am I supposed to guess yours? Because I’m really bad at that shit.” Her rich laugh had me smiling in spite of myself.
Whether I wanted to or not, I kind of liked this chick.
“Ellie McCallum,” I answered.
“Ellie. That’s a cool name. Is it short for something? Eleanor maybe? Elvira? I know it’s Elora!”
I smirked and shook my head.
“Nope, just plain ole Ellie.”
“Plain my ass. You’ve got the whole tortured lone wolf thing going on. There are probably all kinds of crazy shit going on with you.”
“Not exactly,” I mumbled, the momentary softening I had felt already freezing over. I was officially done playing let’s get to know each other.
“There’s a story there. I can feel it,” Kara teased but I wasn’t in the mood for teasing.
“Nope, no story. Look I’ve gotta go,” I said abruptly. Without waiting for her response, I picked up the speed and hurried ahead. I heard her call something after me but this time I went with my first instinct and ignored her.
I pushed through a door I had only been through one other time and silently moved down the almost empty corridor until I found myself standing outside the large windows looking into the art studio.