Page 17 of The Misfit

Noah:Want me to call with an emergency?

All I can do is shake my head.

Me:You’re supposed to encourage me, not enable me. I’m trying to be brave.

Bubbles appear on the screen while he’s responding.

Noah:You’re already brave, dumbass.

Noah:But seriously. One text and I’ll fake appendicitis.

A tap on my passenger window makes me jump so hard I bang my knee on the steering wheel.Motherfucker.I clutch at my leg and look up to find Bel standing there, concern etched into her features. How long has she been standing there?Oh god.I hope not long.

She points down, gesturing for me to lower the window. I lower it to exactly three inches. Not enough for anything to get in. Not enough for anyone to reach through.

“Sorry if I scared you. I have been watching for your car from upstairs. After a while, I got worried you wouldn’t come up since you’ve been parked here for a bit.” Her soft voice holds no hint of judgment.

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I’m being weird. I should just go?—”

“Salem.” She cuts me off gently. “No. Take your time. There is no rush. I know this is a lot for you. Just know that whenever you’re ready to come up, there’s a sealed bottle of water and a clean spot saved for you on the couch. Drew made sure everything was sanitized.”

The walls of anxiety that I’ve spent so long building up to protect myself crack at her confession. Her kindness is far more than I expected.

“Three more minutes,” I whisper.

She nods like this is completely normal. “Three more minutes. I’ll meet you at the door. Then we can walk up together, okay?”

I nod my head absently and watch as she walks back toward the building. I count her steps all the way to the door.

Twenty-seven.

The same number of therapy appointments I’ve had this year.

Maybe it’s a sign.

My phone buzzes again.

Noah:You got this, Sis.

I don’t know if that’s true, but I suck up his belief like a dry sponge. Then I take a deep breath, check my gloves, and count to three.

Time to be brave.

My limbs are numb, my stomach a trembling mess as I slip from the safety of my car. Bel smiles at me from the entrance, and I do my best to return the smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. Staring at the asphalt, I count each step I take until I reach her. She guides me through a clean, elegant entrance and directly to an elevator.

“You’re doing great,” Bel praises, her voice soft.

“Thank you. For saying that. And inviting me,” I reply with a smile.

She has no idea how much encouragement her words give me right now. I can do this.All I have to do is try.The elevator dings, and the doors open.

“Of course. Once a friend, always a friend.”

We step inside together, and a moment later, the doors slide closed. Bel types a code into the keypad, and we start moving. Silence surrounds us, minus the thundering beat of my heart, which I fear is so loud Bel can hear it.

I adjust my gloves, the latex squeaking. When the elevator stops, the doors open directly into Drew and Bel’s enclosed foyer. My breath catches in my throat as I take in all the gleaming marble and modern art. I step out of the elevator, and my boots make no sound as I walk across the polished floor. Bel waits by the sleek double doors, her smile warm and genuine.

“Ready?” she asks, and I appreciate that she doesn’t reach for me or try to hurry me along.

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