Page 31 of The Misfit

It would be better if I focused on physics.

Better to count equations instead of heartbeats.

Better to pretend yesterday never happened.

Even if guilt sits heavy in my chest with each deleted text.

One minute, I’m sitting there, and the world around me is quiet and safe. Then it all comes crashing down. The books scatter across the table without warning, several falling to the floor with thuds that echo through the quiet library. My careful arrangement shatters, pages bending, corners creasing, order dissolving into a mess.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” I stammer automatically, surging to my feet even though I know my books weren’t hanging over the edge. I always check three times to ensure everything is properly placed. In the back of my mind, I latch onto the knowledge that this was deliberate. An attack on me.

Looking up, I find two guys standing far too close to my table—I recognize them. I’ve even seen them around campus a time or two. The taller one smirks at me and doesn’t even try to pretend it was an accident.

His friend moves to my other side, boxing me in against the wall.

“Nice gloves,” Tall Guy mocks, reaching for one of my fallen books. His boot deliberately steps on a page of another, creasing it. “Germaphobe or just crazy?”

Don’t engage. Don’t react.Don’t let them see how my hands shake with everything out of order more than their hulking presence.

“Please.” My voice comes out small and pathetic. “Stop. You can sit here. Just let me pack these up properly.”

“Properly?” The friend laughs, knocking another book off the table. “What’s proper about wearing gloves in eighty-degree weather? And did I hear you counting the fucking shelves?”

They’ve been watching me.

“Please … just leave me alone.” I hate how my voice trembles. Their bodies press in closer. My throat tightens. I can’t even grab my things and run because everything needs to be packed in the right order, the right way, the right pattern.

“Alone?” Tall Guy leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “You mean how alone you already are in this secluded corner? I doubt anyone would hear your screams this far back. Probably wouldn’t even notice if something happened to the crazy girl with the gloves.”

Terror claws up my throat as they press closer, my brain finally reacting to them instead of the mess of my system.

Tendrils of fear wrap around my limbs. I need to run. I need to escape. I need to get away.

Please, someone notice. Make them stop.

“Get the fuck away from my girlfriend.”

A voice cuts through my panic like a blade, steady and dangerous.

That voice. I know it.Lee.I didn’t even hear him approach, but suddenly, he’s there, all controlled fury and protective stance.

“Girlfriend?” Tall Guy backs up immediately, recognition flashing in his eyes.

Everyone knows Lee Sterling. Everyone knows not to cross him. “We were just?—”

“Just leaving.” Lee steps between them and me, creating a barrier with his body. “Get the fuck out of here before I toss you out.”

They retreat quickly, too quickly, but I’m too overwhelmed to question it. My hands shake as I stoop to try to gather my scattered belongings, nitrile squeaking against paper as I attempt to restore order.

“Hey.” Lee’s voice gentles as he turns to me, all traces of threat gone. “Let me help. Tell me how you need things packed.”

The offer startles me enough to pause my frantic organizing. He’s not trying to do it for me, not trying to rush me, not trying to tell me it doesn’t matter. No. He’s asking how he can help me do it right.

“Textbooks first,” I manage to say, my throat tight and my eyes filled with tears I hadn’t realized were falling until just now. “Largest to smallest. Then notebooks by subject. Then?—”

“Then pens by length?” he finishes, already reaching for the correct book. “It fits the pattern.”

His careful movements are precise, following my patterns without my prompting. He maintains careful distance while still somehow making me feel protected. Slowly, order returns. Chaos recedes. My breathing steadies.

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