“A cappuccino, please,” I ordered quickly. The barista handed me my drink, and I pulled out the chair next to Nikki. She took a long sip of her coffee, sighed deeply, and turned to me.
“So...the whole social hermit thing. Is it just for a term or are you committed for life?”
I WAS SO GRATEFUL to have escaped my former life that living for three years without forming any attachments seemed like a small price to pay for my freedom. The reality was that I had escaped from hell, only to find that fear still incarcerated me in a prison from which there was no escape. I was afraid that the more memorable I became; the more likely it was that I would be found. However irrational that fear was, it made me close myself off from forming any kind of friendship. Until Nikki sat down next to me, it was the only way I knew. I’d been so caught up in surviving and staying free, that I’d forgotten that freedom was a state of mind. I might have escaped physically, but mentally, I was still giving the son of a bitch that power over me. Changing that cycle would need a conscious decision, and making a new friend seemed like a good place to start.
“Why would you think that I’m a social hermit?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I was curious, though, to find out how she saw me.
“Look, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve been sitting behind you in class since the start of term. Granted, most of the class seems fairly anti-social, but you don’t talk to anyone, and you seem to avoid catching people’s eye so they don’t initiate a conversation.”
“You’ve been in that class for a month?” I asked, slightly shocked.
“See, that’s what I mean. If you’d looked up from your notes occasionally, you’d have seen me.”
“Sorry,” I apologised. “I’m not much good at making new friends.”
“Neither am I,” she admitted, which surprised me. “Well, I’m not much good at making girlfriends, anyway. Most of my friends are guys. I guess my tendency to say things as they are, without filtering, puts girls off. If you ask me how you look, and I think your dress makes your arse look fat, I’ll tell you. If you ask me what I think of your boyfriend, and he’s a dick, I’ll tell you. I think that makes me a pretty awesome friend, but most girls don’t agree.” She shrugged, humorously, and I couldn’t help but like her.
“Anyway, I’m sick of not having anyone to talk to in class, so I thought I’d say hello. If you really don’t want to talk, though, I can go back to sitting behind you.”
“Like that wouldn’t be weird,” I replied. “I’m glad you sat next to me. It’s nice to make a new friend.”
“Well, don’t get too attached to me. I’m sure I’ll say something to piss you off by the weekend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t wear dresses, so we should be fine.”
She grinned at me, and her smile was infectious.
“Look, one of the guys on the rugby team is having a party in a couple of weeks. How about you come with me?” she asked.
I almost choked on my coffee at the thought of dancing around in a tiny skirt and chucking back the shots.
“Um, thanks Nikki, but I’m kind of working double shifts waitressing to pay for my course. If it’s on a weekend, chances are I’ll be working.”
“Well, just think on it. You can get ready at my place and borrow some of my clothes and stuff. We’d have a blast.”
I had no intention of going, but I was blown away that this girl, who hardly knew me at all, would be so generous. I wasn’t used to such random acts of kindness.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, knowing my answer wouldn’t change. “So, how come you’re going? Do you know some of the guys on the rugby team?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee and burning my tongue.
“I’m friends with a few of them, and there’s a few going who I wouldn’t mind being more than friendly with.”
I looked down and blushed as I thought about O’Connell, who was pretty much the only guy I’d thought about like that in a very long time. When I looked back up, Nikki was staring at me as though she was mentally sizing me up for a boyfriend.
“I’m not interested in meeting anyone, Nikki,” I warned. “I’ve got enough on my plate between my job and classes.”
“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “You can be my wingman when I’m wearing beer goggles. I have terrible taste in men when I’m drunk. Just pull me away from the ones I’d chew my arm off to get away from in the morning.”
I burst out laughing at the image, and it was the first time that I could remember laughing in a very long time.
I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING shaking with fear. It had been a while since I’d dreamt at all, and I’d forgotten just how bad they were. I had no doubt that my conversation with Nikki yesterday had triggered it. New things always did. The nightmare was one of a hundred memories that I’d never be free of.
I had been about fifteen at the time and taking out the rubbish when Noah Rawlinson, a guy from my class, strolled by my house, walking his dog.
“Hey, Em, how are you?”
“Good, thanks. He’s gorgeous, what’s his name?” I asked, as I bent down to rub the coat of the overenthusiastic golden retriever licking at my hand.
“Umm... Barbie,” he mumbled, his face colouring with embarrassment.
“Seriously,” I replied.
“I know, I know,” he laughed, rubbing Barbie’s coat along with me.
“I wanted a dog when I was a kid and Mum let me choose the dog, but my little sister got to pick the name.”
I tried not smile but couldn’t help it.
“That’s pretty tragic. Poor dog.”
“Poor dog! You should try yelling after this crazy animal in a park full of people. I’m sure he’s disobedient just to make me look stupid.”
Noah and I had caught each other’s eye a couple of times in class, and I’d been hoping he’d ask me out. He pushed his floppy blond hair out of his eyes and shifted from foot to foot, obviously building up to something. I bit my lip with nervous anticipation.
“So, were you planning on going to the end of year dance?” he asked. I carried on patting Barbie’s coat. The poor dog would be bald by the time we made a date.
“I hadn’t really thought about it yet,” I lied. Hello! What girl in my year hadn’t thought about the dance?