Bulletproof

N O V E M B E R · high and sick

I got in Riley's car as soon as I spotted him parked before my building, immediately greeting the heater against the freezing November air outside.

"Hey." I leaned over the gear stick for a quick kiss and not even that rush managed to unsettle the shitty day I was having so far.

"Good morning." he grinned, pulling away and towards the campus as I dropped my bag on the back seat and buckled myself. "What's got you all moody so early?"

"I'm not moody."

"Sure you're not." he chuckled and I folded my arms. "You're upset."

"I'm not."

"You are." his eyes scanned my face as he took everything in. Then that easy-going smirk appeared. "You're cute when you're mad." my insides clenched and I pursed my brows even harder together. "Now you're even cuter... so I guess this is a bad sign?"

Cute? I've been told I was pretty before, fierce, smoldering, beautiful... I put a lot of effort in being beautiful. But cute?

Ewww...

"I'm not cute." I grumbled, but it didn't stop his good mood, instead he smoothed mine by taking my hand over my thigh as he drove us closer to the campus.

"Yes, you are, but what about the other part, uh?" his finger tightened around mine and I brushed them with my thumb.

How did he calmed me like that?

Like there was a button and he just pushed it, making it hard for me to keep up the bitch front... and it was a front I'd grown quite fond to. But he saw right past it and effortlessly melt it down. I wouldn't even recognize myself if I was met with my past version.

There still was a long path ahead, but I felt more confident and open. Relatively, people still sickened me, but I was learning not to expect the worst from everyone, and turned out there were several decent ones around. 

The first step was the constant pushing of Hailey, annoying but cute pushing my boundries from inside out; then Riley, who's constant pushing  were from the outside in this time. And now? Now was my struggling to find a balance that didn't make me uncomfortable, but that made me more approachable.

"My parents are already planning Thanksgiving." I explained at last.

"Oh."

I nodded, getting more irritated the more I think about the stupid voicemail. "And by 'planning' I mean that they had compromised to serve me a dinner. Last year my father didn't even stay enough for the appetizer." I put the stupid same French accent my mother does when she tries to be funny. "I won't be surprised if it's just me and Naomi this year."

The housekeeper had been there for me more than my own family, but what could I say? They were busy people. And I'd taken benefit of their high level of life so far, so I guess I couldn't actually complain. But inside I did.

I wished for a common family, maybe more struggling with bills but tight. I knew they loved me, I felt it in their worry and they're hurt when I pay with them the resentment of their abandonments, but it was like a vicious cycle.

"Whatever." I shook my head, getting rid of this childish wishes. I had what I had and I'd learned to deal with it. I shifted sideways, resting my head against the seat and watching him drive. "What about you? Has mommy called to know how would you want your turkey?"

"Well," he cleared his throat with a sad smile. "Actually, in Canada Thanksgiving is earlier, In fact, it was last Monday."

"What?" I blinked. I remembered last Monday pretty well, we stayed in my condo, studying for a test and... well entertained. But no thanksgiving. "Why didn't you tell me?"