When I stop, I stare at what I’ve created, my chest tightening. A monstrous figure stares back at me, its form twisted and shadowed, its limbs bound in chains. And yet, unmistakably, it wears Mason’s face.I miss you.
TWELVE
Rule Number Nine ofAdeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness:Adeline, you are worthy. Loneliness isn’t who you are, it’swhereyou are. No more “I’m alone because I’m unlovable” or “No one wants to be around me.” This phase is simply a chapter, not the whole book.
“Hey!” I say with a wide smile, watching her rush to the back. “We… We met at the café. I’m Adeline Ross!”
Kym’s gaze lingers on me, unreadable. It’s like staring at a blank wall and expecting it to move. After what feels like an eternity, she gives an almost imperceptible nod and moves to the seat next to mine. She doesn’t look interested—doesn’t sound it either—but everyone needs a friend. Especially on their first day.
“So… you’re new here?” I ask, my voice shrinking with every word.
“Yes. I just transferred,” she mutters, pulling a notebook and pens from her bag.
There’s a guardedness about her that puts me a bit on edge. A sadness in her expression, touched by a torment that makes her seem less human.
More like a dream fading into the night.
And there’s something else I notice, a striking detail I, surprisingly, haven’t noticed before—a single white streak in her otherwise dark brown hair.
It’s random, sure, but for some reason it doesn’t feel out of place. It’s so bright I’m shocked.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as she begins to write, her pen moving furiously across the page. The sheer speed and precision of it is startling, almost mechanical. I mean honestly, she’s going abnormally fast.
Like a human typewriter or something.
I bet she could write an entire novel before I even finished my name.
But just as I’m about to take my notebook and pencil case out, my eyes fall upon the necklace she wears, a delicate chain with a ring dangling from it. A spark of recognition flashes through me, a faint echo of familiarity tugging at the edges of my memory. Where have I seen that before?
“Is that… a ring on your necklace?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Her fingers lift to the pendant almost instinctively, brushing against the ring. Her gaze hardens. “Yes,” she replies curtly, offering nothing more. For a moment, her mask slips. There’s something in her eyes—pain, sharp and raw—but it vanishes so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.
“You seem like you talk a lot,” she adds, her voice sharp. “Could you stop?”
My stomach twists. Oh my god, I’m doing it again.
“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks burning. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll stop now. Really, I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t respond. Just turns back to her notebook and resumes her furious notetaking. I slouch in my seat, mortified. I’ve definitely ruined any chance of her liking me. Clearly, I’m making a horrible second impression. Not that I didn’t already make a horrible first one.
It’s better if I just keep my mouth shut from now on.
The whispers start to creep in again, and I take out my pen and start taking notes for the rest of the lesson. I keep my head down, pretending not to notice the stares, the murmured insults.
I pretend not to notice. The teacher does the same.
But I did.
And I’m pretty sure Kym did too.
***
When the bell rings, I linger in my seat, watching Kym out of the corner of my eye.
I can’t help but feel bad. Kym probably doesn’t have anyone to sit with for lunch. She’ll be alone, just like I have been countless times before. But she packs up so quickly to leave it makes me think that maybe she doesn’t mind being alone. Maybe she prefers it that way. She’s also made it pretty clear she doesn’t want my help. And honestly, maybe my help would only make things worse.
With that in mind, I watch her leave the class.
