Lilia:No.
Me:We’re going to be here all night.
Lilia:I said no. I’ll wait.
Me:You don’t have to babysit me.
Lilia:You’re not winning this.
We go back and forth for a good fifteen minutes until finally, mercifully, she gives in. But not without calling me three times in a row to make sure I’msurebefore she actually drove away.
Which left me here.
I’m beginning to deeply regret not taking Sterling up on his offer to drive us, thinkingthiswould do me good. Spoiler: it isn’t doing me good.
I am so unbelievablyoverthis walk.
We’ve been out here for what—twenty minutes? Thirty? And already my legs are aching, my lungs are burning, and my face hurts.
And the weather isn’t exactly ideal. In other words, English weather. In the winter. I have to say, I didn’t expect a trek like this, and I absolutely didn’t account for the snow.
Meanwhile, Kym walks beside me completely relaxed. Hands in her pockets, her expression calm, barely making a sound as her boots hit the pavement. She isn’t struggling. She isn’t out of breath. She isn’t evenremotelyphased by the fact that we’ve been walking forever.
It’s slightly annoying.
“You know,” I say, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder, “youdidn’thave to walk with me.”
Kym doesn’t answer right away. For a second, I think she might just ignore me entirely, so I quickly add, “But I sure am glad you did.”
Her lips twitch at that. Not a real smile, but something close. She lifts a hand, fixing her beret where the wind has tugged it slightly off-centre.
“It could be worse. We could be walking through the field.” She points out, and I let out a small groan in agreement. We passed a massive field not a few minutes ago, which according to Kym, is another way to get to Kai’s house.
She kicks at a loose rock on the sidewalk, sending it skipping forward. “How can you be so happy?” she asks, voice quiet but sharp. “Your house wasbroken into, Addie. Youhave a stalker.”
I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair, exhaling into the cool afternoon air.
For a long moment, neither of us says anything until finally, I shrug.
“What should I do instead?” I ask, glancing over at her. “Cry? Feel bad for myself?”
Her gaze flicks toward me, just for a second, then back to the pavement.
“I could do that. But then what? I’d still be here. I’d stillexist. Just sadder. And I don’t want to live like that.”
Why should I let some creep decide what my life looks like?
Kym lets out something that’salmosta laugh. I’ll take it.
“That’s… admirable,” she murmurs, kicking at another rock.
I grin, nudging her with my elbow. “I try.”
She shakes her head, staring down at the pavement, watching as her boots scuff against the ground. “You’re weird,” she says eventually.
“You’reweird,” I say and try to nick the rock she’s been kicking this entire time, but she does a cool trick with it.
I glance at her, then back at the rock. “Do you play football?”
