Page 8 of The Misfit

I answer her as I adjust everything. “I’m … okay. Better than I have been in a long time. I’m happy to be back, to return to regular life.”

The silence settles and stretches between us. All the things we’re not saying and all the history we’re pretending doesn’t exist fill the crevices. I know she has questions; everyone does.

Is she going to ask them?I wonder if I even have answers to give her.I peek up at her. She’s watching me straighten the textbooks. Seconds tick by in suspense. Then the silence shatters.

“That’s good. I’m happy to hear you’re doing better, and I’m even happier to see you again.”

“Things are different, that’s for sure.”Different, but the same.Although sometimes I feel like the only thing that’s different is me. Like I’m a triangle trying to fit into a circle spot.

“So,” Bel starts, then stops, picking at a loose thread on her cardigan sleeve. “I heard you were at The Millparty last night.”

My hands freeze mid-adjustment of my pencil case.Oh god.I can only imagine the things being said about me. Actually, it doesn’t matter. I’m no longer surprised by the hateful things people say. Everyone in attendance noticed me.

In their defense, it’s hard to miss the weird girl who is constantly counting, refuses to talk to anyone, and has to wear gloves to function. I’m sure hiding in the pantry like a social reject was icing on the cake. Like, yeah, Lee was there for five seconds, but he’s popular and normal by society’s standards. I doubt anyone batted an eye at him.

“I was there briefly. It became overwhelming pretty fast, so I bowed out early.”

Bel leans forward, her expression brightening. “But you came. That’s something, right? I mean, I know parties aren’t really your thing, but—” She catches her implication too late. I swallow hard, focusing on the exact angle of my calculator against the desk edge.

My thoughts drift, and this is usually when I spiral, everything going back to that terrible fucking night, but that’s not what happens. Instead of going down a dark hole, I’m taken back to the memory of last night. A place I have zero business being.

Nope, do not think about it.

Too late. All I do is blink, and I can feel his warm hand against my skin, his sweet bourbon breath fanning against my lips and that soft, understanding look that appeared in his eyes when I told him I have OCD.

He’s out of your league, Salem. More, he’s out of your universe.

“Drew told me he found you and Lee in the pantry together.”

“Yeah, we were both hiding … nothing happened. I mean, if that’s what you were hinting at.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could swallow them. “I’m sorry. That was … stupid. I didn’t mean to imply that you were thinking we did something. Parties aren’t really my scene, you are correct. In fact, this whole thing is new to me. I should’ve prepared myself better, but I didn’t. Lee was …”

What was he?Interesting at best. Intense, yes. Terrifying. Also yes. The opposite of myself in every single way, one million times yes, yet being in his presence made me feel …normal.Protected?

“Intense?” she offers with a small smile. “Inappropriate? Both?”

Heat crawls up my cheeks. “I don’t really know. He’s just different.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely different …” She pauses like she’s choosing her words. “And complicated. Far more than people realize, but if you like him, don’t let that scare you away. He’s one of the good ones, even if he tries really hard to convince everyone he isn’t.”

“Oh no, it’s not like that,” I correct her, wanting to make certain she knows nothing is going on between us.

“Hey, that’s fine. I get it. I just wanted you to know, on the off chance you were, that not all the rumors are true. Lee’s a real good guy. He’s just rough around the edges.” The way she talks about him, like she feels the need to defend him. A light goes off in my head, and after his comments last night, I have to wonder how long he’s been pretending to be something he’s not. How long has he been wearing a mask and faking it until he can’t anymore?

I bet Lee has a pile of secrets he’s keeping.

“Hey, look, freak show’s back for summer school.”

The comment slides through the study space like a poison-filled mist. I don’t give it any acknowledgment. I know that voice, know who it belongs to without turning around.

Marcus Chen and his cronies—the same guys who were there that night, who watched it all happen, who watched me break apart like entertainment. Their taunting and hateful words are meant to elicit a reaction.

I’m sure I look weak in the eyes of my peers since I don’t bother to defend myself, but there’s no reason. Anyone who believes their lies isn’t someone I would ever associate with anyway.

My hands start to shake, and I clench them into fists, feeling the nitrile stretch across my knuckles.Focus on the smooth texture. Count the bookshelves.

“Guess they let anyone attend these days, huh?” another voice adds, just loud enough to reach my ears. “Even the ones who should be locked up.”

Bel’s entire body stiffens, her usual gentle expression hardening into something fierce.

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