Page 10 of Back to You
But actually, it wasn’t very difficult.
I hated being alone, yet I was desperate to be alone. There was this resistance in me I couldn’t make sense of back then, still can’t fully make sense of now. During group discussions, I was almost stubbornly quiet; when I saw people from my class lingering outside the bookstore café, I would lower my head and walk past them; if they brought up a party happening that Friday, I automatically withdrew, assuming I wasn’t invited. Maybe I thought it hurt less if my aloneness felt like a choice.
Sometimes I could go an entire day without talking to another person. The only time my presence was noted was when the professors were taking attendance at the start of class, and even then, I said “Here” as quietly as possible. Like this, I’d effortlessly achieved near-perfect anonymity. By the time I walked home, I felt like only half a person, like there was a translucent but hard layer separating me from everyone else.
But my biggest fear wasn’t of remaining unseen, undetected; it was of being noticed. I was terrified of someone spotting me in the crowd and recognizing instantly that I was this freak of nature, cast out from the social world, the world of normal people and normal things.
And now I’ve been noticed, by the last person who’d understand how it feels to not fit in.
“Okay, how about this,” Luke says. He’s laughing a little, yet strangely, he doesn’t seem to be laughing at me. “I’ll pick a drink for you, and if you don’t like it, I’ll finish the rest. Deal?”
“Deal,” I say weakly.
As soon as he leaves, the panic sets in. There’s a couple making out right behind me, and some girl’s purse keeps whacking me in the ribs, and the crimson lights are flashing too fast. It’s too overwhelming. Desperate, I escape into the bathroom to breathe.
It’s complete chaos inside there as well. A girl is crouching down underneath the hand dryer, stretching out the front of her shirt, which is visibly soaked. “Some asshole spilled his drink on me,” she explains to nobody in particular. Someone else is FaceTiming a guy while she touches up her makeup; she redraws her eyeliner with a steady hand and says in a toneless voice, “Well, you never picked a place or confirmed the time, so, like, I don’t know what you were expecting. I’ve already told you ...” More girls wait around the sinks, editing photos, texting their friends, checking their hair in the mirror.
A slim blond girl in a white lace dress turns around to face me. “Would you like some?” she asks in a dreamy voice.
I frown, confused. “What?”
She inches closer and gestures to her pocket. I can’t see exactly what’s inside, but I doubt she’s offering me plain gum.
“Oh! No, thank you,” I say politely.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, very,” I say, taking this as my cue to slip out.
The music seems to have grown louder, and I have to shove through the crowd to find my way back to Luke.
When he catches sight of me, his face breaks into a relieved smile.
“Where did you go?” he calls over to me. “I was looking for you.”
It is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. But then, everything feels romantic with him. Even the lightest touch of his hand on my arm, guiding me toward the group on the dance floor. He hands me a pink cocktail and waits for my reaction.
I take a slow sip. It tastes like lychee, like summer. “It’s not bad,” I tell him, surprised.
He grins. “Only ‘not bad’?”
“Not as sweet as soda.”
“Okay, noted. I’ll get you a sweeter drink next time,” he promises.
I can’t believe there’s going to be a next time.
The song switches to something even more upbeat, and he moves his body effortlessly to the music, like he’s not even trying to dance, this is just his natural state. There’s no stiffness, no self-consciousness.
He notices me watching and takes my hand, helps me set the drink back down. “Come here,” he says. “Join me.”
“I don’t really know how to dance,” I say.
He flashes his dimples at me. “Yeah you do, everyone does, you just have to relax.”
“I don’t know how to do that either.”
“Why not? There’s nothing to be scared of.”
