It took forever for me to fall asleep, but after spilling my guts to Cara last night, somehow it wasn't so difficult anymore. Sleeping had apparently been so simple that I'd somehow become a master at it overnight, seeing how I'd managed to sleep through my first alarm so easily.
Cara's gone already by the time I wake up for class but I don't have time to think about that. Instead, my entire morning is taken up by me rushing to get ready for my class which I'll be late to if I don't hurry. So I throw my braids into the messiest low bun and drown myself in some baggy jeans and a t-shirt two sizes too big before grabbing my laptop off the charger and shoving it into my tote bag. I almost leave my water bottle on my desk as I'm heading out but I grab it at the last second, making it out the door with just enough time to make it to my class—if I walk super quickly.
Everything goes according to plan for the first five minutes until I bump into Phoebe, whose name I miraculously remember despite us only really meeting once before. I smile at her but instead of giving me a quick smile back, she greets me with my name.
"Aspen!" she says softly, but confidently—nothing like the image I got from her during the floor meeting at the beginning of the year. "Hey, how are you?"
"Oh, hey," I say awkwardly, stopping for just a split second as my mind struggles to decide between walking away or being late to class. "I'm good, how are you?"
Phoebe seems to notice the tension in my feet as they shuffle on the floor. "Oh, sorry, I don't know if I've officially introduced myself to you personally yet. I'm Phoebe, your RA!"
I nod. "Yeah, no, I know who you are." It comes out so bitchy and I cringe at myself for it.
"Can I walk with you for a minute?" she asks and I practically run out the door the second she finishes her question. She follows beside me, keeping pace with my frantic steps while my mind races about what she could possibly want to talk to me about.
"Sorry if I'm interrupting you," she immediately tells me, "I just wanted to let you know that your transfer request has finally been approved so you just need to sign the new agreement, which is sent by email, and then we can work on getting you to a different room."
"Oh," I say as my face falls. I almost forgot about that.
"Unless you don't want to move rooms anymore?" Phoebe asks with an odd sort of excitement in her tone. It's vague but noticeable and I glance over at her in curiosity. Why would she say it like that?
"I mean, things haven't completely shifted with my roommate," I tell her honestly, "but they have definitely gotten better. Do I have a time limit to sign the agreement?"
"We ask that you sign it within a week of receiving the email, so just keep that in mind. But you can just reply with a no thank you if you change your mind."
I nod my head as we reach the crosswalk and Phoebe takes a step back, as if she refuses to walk any further. "Got it, thank you. Sorry for being so intense right now, I'm kind of running late for my class."
"What class is it?"
"Environmental Sciences," I respond casually when I realize this crosswalk light is going to take years to turn green. "It's my only class on Fridays; thank God."
"Oh, is that with Longmore?"
"Nadine Longmore? Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I took that class my freshman year! I loved it—she's such a good professor. How are you liking it so far?"
"It's nice! Easy to follow along with and I love the environment, so, you know."
Phoebe nods. "Well, I'll let you get to class now. Just don't forget about that transfer agreement, okay?" She starts to walk away before I can respond but then the crosswalk light finally comes on and I continue the rush to class. I make it right before eleven A.M., taking my seat with six seconds to spare.
Everything is fine until the guy next to me mumbles under his breath, "Not this girl again."
"Excuse me?" I ask, turning to recognize that one dickhead with the shaggy dark hair and a weirdly well-manicured middle finger. "Oh, God."
"Can't you find somewhere else to sit?" he asks me, quite audaciously, and I scowl at him.
"Can't you find a better barber?"
He stares blankly at me. Did I go too far?
"Good one. Where'd you hear that? Instagram? Under #howtoroast?"
Before I can say anything back, Dr. Longmore begins taking attendance like she does every week. She gets past the last names starting with the first three letters of the alphabet and then shouts, "Darling? Anthony Darling?"
The asshole beside me raises his hand and I can't help but snicker. That man is anything but a darling.
Not long after calling his name, she calls mine out and I raise my hand with a, "Here!"
"What kind of name is Aspen Greenwood?" Anthony Disgusting whispers to me, clearly trying to pick a fight. But I choose to ignore it today. Next week? He might not be so lucky.
Class could not possibly feel any longer, but as soon as it gets out, I'm finally freed from Anthony's emotionally draining aura and ready to get back to the dorm and do my homework.
I'm waiting outside the building for a few minutes, just setting up a to-do list to look at when I get to my room, when I suddenly spot a horrifyingly familiar face a few feet across from me. It's jarring—borderline petrifying—to see him. Why is he in Colorado? Why here, now, of all places?
"Woah, Aspen, is that you?" he asks out loud before I have time to run away. I can't even muster up some kind of polite greeting back before he makes his way over to me with an ignorant grin.
It's Tristan, my cousin. On my mother's side, no less. That can never mean good news.
"How've you been, dude?" he asks, reaching over to hug me but my planted feet and frozen body prevent me from hugging him back. That, and the acid bubbling its way up my throat at the mere idea of being around him.
"Good," I respond quietly, feeling the smallest I've felt in years. That's what Tristan does, isn't it? He makes you feel so tiny in comparison to him in every way imaginable. Physically, it's easy to feel overpowered by him; he's six feet tall with the build of a professional athlete and a glare that could kill millions. Mentally, he's a whole other kind of evil.
"I didn't know you go to school here!"
"Do you?" I ask immediately, praying to a god I don't believe in that he says anything but yes.
"What? No. I finished my grad program at Harvard, remember?" You don't exactly let anyone forget. "I just live up here with my girlfriend now. She's a student here."
He's living in Colorado? Full time? With connections to the college I chose to go to specifically to escape all that destroyed me in Vermont?
Despite my internal defiance, my fingertips begin to shake. I can feel electricity shooting through my veins, stabbing at my heart in a dangerous Vivaldi type of rhythm. My breath quickens without me realizing it and I can see Tristan's mouth moving but I can't hear a single word he's saying. This feeling, although having not disturbed me in months, is all too familiar.
I leave immediately, without even trying to explain myself. He'll probably text me about it later and I'll definitely ignore the message like I always do, and everything will be back to normal. For now, I just need to get out of his sight and find a place to calm down. Then it will all be okay. It'll all be just fine.
Except a couple of minutes pass and it's not just fine. And then ten more minutes pass and I'm sobbing in a stall of a random women's bathroom somewhere on campus—I can't even recognize the buildings around me. Why am I like this? Why can't I deal with trauma in a normal way?
I take a step outside, hoping fresh air will help me feel better, but then I see Theo, who is almost the worst person to see at this moment.
"Aspen?" he asks through those stupidly perfect circle glasses, genuinely concerned. I contemplate running away, like I've been doing the past week, but my legs start moving in his direction instead. Before I know it, I throw myself into his arms like an idiot.
But he doesn't pull away. It's like he instinctively wraps his arms around me, as if we've known each other for years and he knows this is exactly what I need from him right now. How? After only a few weeks after meeting, how is he so good with me? Why did I have to be weird and ruin our friendship with a stupid date that I didn't really even want in the first place?
"What's wrong?" Theo asks, genuinely worried. No awkwardness in his voice, no tension. Just sincere concern.
I pause, wondering if I'm making the right decision, but the words come spilling out of my mouth before I even get a chance to think it through.
"I— I saw my cousin and he's living in Colorado now? The one place I went so that I didn't have to be reminded of my family and what they've put me through. I sacrificed my relationship and time with my dad and my siblings to be here, just to run into the biggest villain in my story. What am I supposed to do?"
"Woah, woah, slow down," Theo says, still holding on to me. I haven't tried to let go either. "What did he do, your cousin? Can I ask you that?"
I can feel myself start to calm down in his arms, but my heart rate is still skyrocketing. "Well, he—" I try to get the words out but I simply can't. I feel stupid for not being able to talk about it; I guarantee it's nowhere near as bad as Theo might think it is, but Tristan is the cause of many of my deeply-rooted issues, and seeing him after so long is driving me crazy.
Theo doesn't continue pushing me, thankfully. Instead, he insists I should go home and talk to Cara despite my endless reluctance. He seems to think she and I are best friends and that she can help me more than he can but what he doesn't know is that my relationship with him is probably equal to my relationship with Cara Jasper, wherein we're merely one step up from acquaintances. And even that is generously speaking, considering how we've only just now started to be nice to each other after years of resentment.
Nonetheless, somehow I end up back at my dorm with Theo by my side, who escorts me the entire way there. He gives my arm a small squeeze when we get to the front door and my heart is finally starting to beat at a normal pace again.
"Hey, I'm sorry for being so overwhelming," I tell him as I reach into my tote bag to grab my keys. "And for... well, blatantly ignoring you."
Theo's face remains genuine and kind. "Don't you dare apologize for anything. You're not overwhelming—you're human."
"But after I tried to—"
"It's okay, I get it." He shrugs and there's not an ounce of malice in his expression. "We just miscommunicated and read the signs wrong. I like you, Aspen, but I don't think there's chemistry between us, and I'm sorry if I ended up leading you on—"
"Oh, god, no!" I wave my hands at him frantically. "No, that's not what happened at all. I—" I take a deep breath to collect my thoughts for a moment. I know it's probably too early in our friendship to be getting so transparent with Theo, but the dude's already experienced me having a panic attack, so really how much worse can it be?
"Truthfully," I tell him softly, "I was feeling lonely since Cara had her date with Sasha, and my ex keeps texting me, flirting with me, and the mixed signals are just so confusing, you know? So I thought that if I could find someone to hook up with, all of that would just go away. So I'm sorry for trying to use you as a tool for my own selfishness. You didn't deserve that."
Theo smiles at me ever so slightly before pulling me into another tight hug. It shocks me for a moment since I'm not sure I've ever met a straight dude who likes hugging others as much as Theo seems to, but I smile into his chest anyway because it truly is the pinnacle of comfort.
"Thank you for apologizing," he says, stroking my hair. "I forgive you, but don't ever apologize again for being 'overwhelming'. Got it?"
I pull away and salute him as tears brim my eyes. How long has it been since I felt the physical comfort of someone else? "Got it, boss."
Theo chuckles and makes sure I get into the dorm unit before he waves goodbye through the window and walks off. I make my way to my bedroom, where Cara is typing away on her laptop at her desk. At first, she doesn't notice me, and I pray it stays that way because I'd hate to distract her from her homework, but when I set my bag down on my desk chair, she turns to face me.
"Hey, you're home late," she says. The tears at the edge of my eyes start to drip down and I turn away to make sure she doesn't see me cry, but it's no use.
"Is everything okay?" she asks, turning her chair around completely to face me fully. I wipe at my eyes and try my best to brush it all off.
"Yeah, just had a long day," I tell her. Not a complete lie.
"Yeah, right." She sees right through me. How? "That looks like more than just a long day."
I shrug, scared to speak in case my voice breaks.
"Do you... wanna talk about it?"
There's something about hearing those words from the one person everyone expects you to hate that just... hits you.
I take a deep breath, allowing the final tear to fall before I wipe my eyes again. "Not now," I tell her. "Not yet."
Somehow, she nods like she understands—like she gets it. Does she?
"Whenever you're ready," she says. And I believe her.