Page 9 of Collided

I’m alone but that doesn’t mean I like being lonely. Living with my thoughts all the time makes me go crazy, especially when they’re dark.

Sometimes I think I have no friends because I’m the problem. It makes me sad. Well, it’s not like I haven’t tried. In thepast, I’ve talked to my classmates—despite my social anxiety—but they seemed uninterested. I talked about novels, and they thought they were boring. I talked about music, and they commented on my music taste. Everything I like isn’t something they like.

I feel out of place here.

Miss Sheila elegantly saunters into the classroom and a hush falls over. She has a skinny figure and always ties her blonde hair in a tight bun, which makes her go hairless from the front of her hairline, but I don't think she cares about it.

Everyone is listening to her, but I’m drawing stick figures in my notebook. I never understand a word she teaches. She makes math complicated.

In the middle of the lecture, Heath comes in. Everyone stares at him, but he appears unbothered.

Miss Sheila glares at him. “So nice of you to join my class. Perhaps next time you can try to arrive ten minutes early.”

Instead of answering her, he searches the classroom. When his eyes meet mine, he starts walking in my direction.

Oh my God.

He’s coming my way.

Look away.

I sit straight and focus on my doodles, acting nonchalant. Of course, I’m not bothered by him—

The chair next to me screeches against the floor, and he plops down to my left, despite the fact there are many vacant seats.

I’m bothered.

A few heads turn to notice the scene, mostly girls. Under their sharp looks, I want to pull over the cloak of invisibility and sneak out of the classroom into the library. If only the Harry Potter universe was real. I’m pretty sure I’d be a muggle, but that’s beside the point. In my head on my eleventh birthday, I get theletter and go to Hogwarts. I became a wizard and have the most amazing friends.

Plucking courage from the depths of me, I sneak a glance at the guy who caused this commotion. He’s already watching me, with a pen dancing between his fingers as he plays with it.

‘I’m not sure if you noticed, but there are plenty of other seats.’If I were brave I’d say those words to him. But I’m not.

The class continues. I try to ignore him, that’s easier said than done.

His presence consumes the tiny space between us.

You can’t ignore a guy like him. Everything about him demands attention. I’m sure he’s used to it. It must be nice to not be invisible like me.

Maybe I do have the cloak of invisibility.

Lunch usually goes by with me reading in the library. Being surrounded by books makes me feel less lonely.

When there’s an emptiness inside of you, you try to fill it with other things. If it could be filled by you it wouldn’t be there in the first place.

My emptiness is loneliness. I fill it with books. The company of fictional characters, and the bonds that feel real. That explains why I’m always attached to a book. I don’t want to be alone or be empty.

I’m walking toward the library when Heath comes around the corner and I bump into him. My hand latches onto his T-shirt to not fall back, but he’s quick. Grabbing my arm, he steadies me.

Deja vu hits me.

I curse at myself and immediately let go of him.

“Do you have a habit of bumping into people?” he says in a rough voice that caresses my skin like gravel.

I meet his curious stare. “You came out of nowhere.”

From this close, I study his injuries. There’s a bruise on his cheek and a minor scratch near his hairline.

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