Page 12 of Chaining Daisy
Immediately, she rolls her eyes because it is totally something I would do. “Knew I should have gotten it in black instead of white.”
I have to swallow a sigh of relief as the topic goes back to the T.A. who just led our math class with his back to the room—facing the board the entire time as he muttered completely unintelligible shit. Higher education. What a joke.
That guy won’t be teaching us a thing. And math isn’t what I really need to learn anyway. I need to learn how to read a guy’s face and tell if he’s into me or not. Or—in the very likely scenario that he’s not—I need to learn how to turn off my idiotic heart and—
My thoughts trail off as a random guy strides right up to us. He’s lanky, with curly black hair that’s shorn on the sides and a cute disaster on top. He’s wearing a funny science shirt with an image of an atom and the phrase “You Matter.” I chuckle under my breath.
He stops at our table, right in between Rose and me. “Hey. I’m in Algebra with you. I’m Justin.” To my surprise, he doesn’t look at everyone else. Just at me.
“Oh. Hey.” I give him an awkward smile-nod combination, wondering what the hell is going on. When we’re in a group, it’salwaysLily who gets the attention. Not me. I’m the shy one. At least until I get to know you. Then I’m a font of sarcasm.
“Um …” he swipes awkwardly at his neck. “You probably don’t remember me, but we were at the Ronald McDonald house at the same time for a while. I was there for my brother. Remember?”
It would hurt less if he’d taken a bulldozer and scooped out the front half of my body. That was the worst of times. It was before Gunnar—when social workers had been coming to talk to me about where I might end up if I was a minor when Mom passed because treatment wasn’t going well.
I have absolutely zero recollection of this guy whatsoever. I’ve blanked out and erased those months and then scribbled over them in permanent marker. “Oh. Yeah.” My voice comes out thin and reedy.
“Anyway. It’s good to see you somewhere else,” he gives a shaky laugh that I don’t know how to interpret. “If you want to study together sometime, let me know.”
“Ok, sure.” I’m nodding and smiling, just hoping he’ll go away and let me get rid of the miserable slideshow that’s currently playing behind my eyes—other memories besides the house that I haven’t been able to block. Sad doctor’s faces. Test results. Before Gunnar got Mom into that experimental treatment, things had looked so bleak.
He swooped in like a guardian angel and gave us hope for a bit. And then … when all was hopeless, he was still there. Letting us cry on his shoulder. Forcing both of us to eat. Requiring family movie night ….
Fuck. If I don’t stop, I’m going to cry.I blink and smile harder up at the stranger.
“Great!” This guy is about as great at reading the room as I am. “How about Thursday night?”
“Sure. Yeah.”
“Library? Or we can go to my dorm if—”
“Library’s good. Great.” I try to signal Rose with my eyes, sending out an S.O.S. But my Latina friend simply blinks in amusement. Meanwhile, my palms are sweating and I’m not certain but I think my toenails might have dug holes right through the soles of my shoes because even my feet are tensed up and cringing. This is a disaster.
“Eight okay? Third floor?”
What is happening right now?
“Yup. Great. Good. See you then.” Social niceties spew from my mouth on autopilot, just like they did at Mom’s funeral. I want to gouge out my own eyes as he gives me a crooked smile.
“Awesome. Can I just get your number so I can text you?”
No.
But Justin whips out his phone and I don’t know how to refuse. I type in my number, trying not to let my fingers shake. Meanwhile, across the table, Lily is slurping her soda through a straw and her eyes are ping-ponging back and forth between us like this is a fucking TV show.
Finally, he leaves and I can exhale. Breathe normally. Glance around at the faces at the table. “Traitors! What the hell was that?”
Violet gives a shrug. “What was what?”
Some kind of spazzy, cartoonish pointing in the direction of Justin’s back happens—I’m not really in control of myself right now. I’m freaking out.
“Calm down, Daisy. It’s just a date.”
“Just a date! Just a date!” Easy for her to say. She’s been dating since she was sixteen. I was sixteen when Mom first got diagnosed. Then we moved for treatment for a bit, before it didn’t seem to matter, and we moved back. And then … well, I’ve had other priorities.
“Look, maybe it will be a good thing,” Rose’s tone is cautious. “You know, get the first one out of the way with a guy you don’t really like … that way you aren’t nervous when a guy you’re really interested asks.”
A little bit of panic breathing sets in, and I don’t know if I want to laugh or throw my fruit salad in her lap. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
