Page 13 of Sinister

“No lesson, Petra. Just wanted to tell you that . . .” He struggles to find the right words, even though he doesn’t need to. “That I understand, somewhat. What it feels like to be set apart and laughed at, I guess. Of course, that’s nothing compared to falling in the pool.”

I take a deep breath, feeling more at ease. “Yeah, I suppose. But it’s not just tonight. People at school . . . they don’t like me. They think I’m a stuck-up bitch with my nose in the air.”

“That’s their problem, Petra,” Sin says in a firm tone as he changes his posture, unfolding and stretching out his legs before him. “I hope you don’t agree with them?”

I shrug, staring at the floor.

“I don’t know. Maybe I am too quiet and standoffish? You gotta admit I don’t really fit in with anyone; my people skills are almost nonexistent.”

“Sometimes people judge what they don’t understand,” Sin points out. “But that doesn’t mean you have to believe them.”

“I try not to,” I admit, my voice soft. “But it’s hard when you feel like an outsider. All. The. Time!”

He nods empathetically as his expression softens again. “I get how that could quickly become very tiring. But trust me, Petra, you’re not as predictable as that. You’re more than what they think. If only they could see the side of you that I have seen today, you know?”

“Thanks, Sin. That means a lot.” And it does, in ways I still fail to articulate properly. So I take a deep breath, deciding to share more. “It’s just . . . I’ve always felt different. Like there’s this wall between me and everyone else. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to break through.”

He nods. “Yeah, I get what you mean. I feel like I’m putting on an act most of the time. And you know what? I am pretending. How else are we supposed to survive high school? It’s downright brutal out here.”

“Yeah,” I say in a choked voice as a lump forms in my throat. “I see people with their tight-knit groups, their inside jokes, and I just . . . I don’t have that. I have Amelia, but that’s on the internet. Here, I’m always alone.” I give a defeated shrug.

“But you’re not alone right now,” Sin says softly when I stop speaking, too overcome with bitterness to continue. “And I think it’s brave of you to even be here tonight.”

“Brave?” I scoff lightly. “It doesn’t feel like it. You know what it does feel like? Like I’m constantly trying to prove myself. And failing!”

“Hey,” he says, leaning forward, his face furrowing with concern for me. He looks pained at the sight of my distress. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re amazing just as you are. And if they can’t see that, it’s because they are blind idiots.”

His words hit me hard, and I blink back tears.

“I wish I could believe that. It’s just so exhausting, trying to tailor myself to appeal to others and still not managing to forge genuine connections. It’s like, am I defective? Am I a psychopath or something?”

“Well, if you are, then maybe I like psychopaths more than normal people,” Sin says with a small chuckle.

“Ah, I wish I was truly abnormal,” I continue. “Then I couldn’t care less that everyone hates me.”

“Hey!” Sin protests. “I don’t hate you! In fact, I think you’re quite a badass.”

I blink, surprised by his words. “Really? A badass? What do you mean?”

Sin assumes a thoughtful expression. “I’ve noticed you before. You have this air about you, this . . . quiet strength. What you call ‘coldness’ I call ‘discernment.’ You can exist without needing others to validate your existence. That’s pretty badass.”

I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks, and I know I’m blushing again. “You really think so?”

Dammit. I sound like some breathless scullery maid from a Jane Austen novel.

“Absolutely,” he says in that signature earnest voice. “You don’t let people’s opinions define you. You walk through those halls like you own them, even if you don’t feel that way inside. That takes guts.”

I smile shyly, the compliment making my heart flutter. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“Well, you should!” Sin says with a grin. “It’s inspiring, honestly. Most people can’t handle being alone. They need constant validation. But you? You’re like . . . like a fortress!”

“A fortress.” I turn the word around in my mind like it’s a rare gem. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

Sin’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “See? Don’t sell yourself short, Petra. You’ve got more going for you than you realize.”

I look down, my heart pounding. “Thanks, Sin. That really means a lot.”

He shrugs and grins suddenly.