Page 61 of Nobody in Particular

“You really liked her, huh?”

I nod, like Rachel can hear me, and then let out a sob.

“Breakups are theworst. They’re horrible. I get it.”

“But we weren’t even together that long,” I say, pulling the blanket over my head.

“Sweetie, it doesn’t matter. I’ve had my heart broken by guys who never liked me back at all. The only thing that matters is how muchyouliked them, and that can grow fast.”

Oh, god. I screwed up, didn’t I? I thought if I ended things with Rose early enough, this wouldn’t happen. I thought I was saving us both a bucket of hurt. And now look.

“Tell me it’s gonna stop hurting soon,” I beg.

“I can’t. The timeline’s different for everyone. But it’ll stop eventually. One day, you’ll look back on this and wonder what you ever saw in her in the first place.”

I latch on to her words for reassurance. But, at the same time, I doubt them. Because I can’t imagine ever wondering that about Rose.

The answer’s too obvious.

TWENTY-SIXROSE

I am absolutely fine.

In the three weeks since Danni ended our relationship, I have adjusted to yet another new normal with relative ease. I wake, I attend class and language tutoring, I eat meals, and I go to bed. Easy, predictable, steady. The good thing about Molly, I suppose, is she taught me rather effectively not to trust in the stability of even the most wonderful relationships. A useful lesson in a world like this.

On the topic of Molly, I have been finding that I struggle to mind her absence, too, lately. So, when Florence finds me in the dining hall and invites me to smoke in the woods after curfew like we used to, I say yes without hesitation.

I can hardly remember why it meant so much to me to stop drinking and dabbling in drugs in the first place. Because Molly was hurt from it? Molly can’t be hurt by me anymore; she doesn’t care what I do. Because I don’t want to harm my reputation further? It’s not as though my friends and I have been caught doing this in the past. Because I wanted to be a better person? What does it even matter what kind of person I am? The country seems happy with me at the moment, now that I’m apparently dating Alfie. Much happier than they were with me last month, when I was doing everything “right.” So, why bother trying to improve myself?I may as well do what I want. And tonight, I want to continue to feel nothing.

It’s supposed to be five of us meeting by the stairs. Eleanor and Florence, myself, and—inexplicably—Danni and Molly, who I only just found out Florence invited at all. Six, if you count Theodore. Just as we’re about to leave, though, Harriet joins us at the last second.

“It’s fine,” she says when Florence gives her a confused look. “I have the RA phone with me. If anyone needs me, they can call me.”

“Playing with fire, girl,” Florence says, but Harriet simply winks at Danni and shrugs, and we head off together. It’s an excellent thing that I’m fine, or I might have the irrational urge to throw her phone in the lake for having the audacity to flirt with my ex-girlfriend right in front of me.

Not that Danni was ever technically my girlfriend. And not that Harriet would have a clue either way.

But as I said. I’m fine, so it’s no matter at all.

We trudge through the woods in a tight group, following the light of Molly’s and Eleanor’s phone flashlights. It’s freezing, and by the time I pull out the gloves I keep folded in my coat pocket my fingers are so numb I can barely don them. Christmas break starts next week, as the tree erected in the dining hall, and the tinsel wrapped around the staircase bannisters, and the wreath they’ve hung over the Dewitt entrance keep reminding us. Even though we rarely get a white Christmas in Henland, it seems this year may be one of those rare years.

“We won’t get in trouble for this, will we?” Danni asks in a whisper as we trudge.

“Not if we don’t get caught,” Florence says cheerfully, and Danni looks stricken.

“No,” Harriet assures her, shooting Florence a dirty look. “We did this all the time last year.”

“But isn’t there a zero-tolerance policy now?”

Harriet rolls her eyes. “They just say that to look like they’re taking drug use seriously if anyone asks. As long as we don’t make them look bad, they don’tactuallycare.”

Before long, we reach our spot: a clearing that was set up bystudents long before we arrived at school, presumably for similar purposes. Harriet and Florence kneel beside the fire pit and pull wooden blocks and towels from Harriet’s backpack while Eleanor, Molly, and I take our places on the logs we’ve always used as makeshift benches. Unlike other years, Molly and I do our best to sit as far apart as possible. And as though we’ve barely had a break in our longstanding routine, Eleanor opens the canvas bag she brought—and always did bring—with her and passes out cans of hard cider as though she’s Santa handing out toys from his sack.

Harriet and Florence bring the fire from a spark to a pleasant crackle, at which point they pass around their own toys for the boys and girls.

When I take a joint for myself, Molly’s eyes fix on me in an intense glare. Quite apparently, she cares about me doing this rather more than I expected, though I can’t understand why. Nor do I understand why she chose to come along tonight. She doesn’t drink, or smoke. Did Danni want to come?

Is it possible Danni wanted to see me?

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