Page 5 of The Misfit

“I have every right to be here. I was invited.”

“Right …” I self-consciously wipe my sticky hand against my jeans. “Everyone was invited. And my hand was wet because I had to stop some idiot from bathing me with the punch bowl.”

Her beautiful features pinch with disgust. “That’s terrible.”

I pause, knowing this interaction is different, and this girl, whoever she is, is unique. Something is real and raw about her, a stark change to most of the women I encounter. The longer I look at her, the more I want to peel back her layers and see what’s hiding beneath. Which is insane because I’ve never felt that way about anyone, male or female.

“I think we started off on the wrong foot,” I say.

“It’s fine.” Her dismissal is jarring.

“Did I miss something? Is this the new hangout spot? Why’re you in here?”

She sighs. “Just like you, I guess I needed a minute.”

I nod. “Well, it looks like there’s enough room for both of us.”

She shrugs, and I watch as she carefully wraps her arms around herself. “It’s really okay. I planned on leaving as soon as I got the courage to walk back out there. I thought I was ready for this, but I don’t think I am.”

Ready for this?What does that mean? Her lips move subtly, and it looks like she’s counting under her breath. It’s strange but kind of comforting at the same time.

“Are you okay?”

She lets out a huff. “Am I okay?”

The way she repeats my question makes me thinkprobably not, but I push for clarity, anyway.

“Yeah, are you okay?” I ask again.

She shakes her head and looks at me, and I meanlooks at mein a way no one else ever has, like she’s reaching into the depths of my soul and unearthing all my secrets.

“I guess I’m fine. I don’t know why I came, why I’m even trying. This is supposed to be my fresh start. I’m finally finishing my degree, even if it means taking summer classes.”

I blink at her a few times. “Who attends classes in the summer?”

She clears her throat and tucks her chin against her chest, and for some reason, I hate it, so I reach out to tip it back up.

She ducks out of range, avoiding my touch.I don’t like that, not at all.“Lots of people, but mostly the ones who have missed classes and want to catch up as fast as they can.”

“Sounds like a waste of a summer to me.” I scoff. “Is it really worth it?”

The tiniest flicker of a smile tugs at her lips, then disappears. “Depends on the price you’re willing to pay. For me, it’s worth it. I want to get back on track. I want to … benormal, whatever that looks like in this day and age.”

“Normal is overrated.”

“Says the guy with all the friends, who isn’t wearing gloves or being stared at like he has two heads every time he enters a room.”

“Touché.” I smile, but it dawns on me that she’s talking about herself. Who is this girl? What’s her name? Why is she wearing gloves? I want to know all the fucking things so I can…can what?We don’t know each other, and I doubt she’ll tell me the answer to any of those questions.

“Exactly, but that doesn’t tell me why you’re hiding. I recognize your voice. Weren’t you yelling about shots to the crowd a minute ago?”

I’m thankful she can’t see the hot embarrassment creep into my cheeks. “Sure was. Goes to show that even the most put-together people on the outside can be crumbling beneath the surface. Fake it until you can’t, right?”

I know I shouldn’t, but I step a little closer, wanting a better look at her in the low light.

She doesn’t retreat this time, and our gazes collide, her warm brown eyes bleeding into mine.Damn.Just one look, one tiny glimpse into her eyes, and her sadness and empathy make it hard for me to breathe. She understands. She knows what it’s like. I want to keep looking at her and try to figure her out.

“Until you can’t,” she echoes. Her breath brushes my chin, and the scent of cherry alcohol and lime tickles my nostrils. “I know all aboutcan’t.”

---