I chuckle lightly. “My name is Sebastian… but everyone calls me Bash.”
She’s walking backward, but her eyes are still locked on mine. “Oh…well, thanks, Bash. You know…for checking on me.”
She turns to walk off, clearly in a hurry. Without even thinking, I call after her, “Wait—what’s your name?”
But she’s too far away now, and we’re in a library. I can’t exactly yell any louder to her, and I’m not going to run after her like some weirdo, so I just stand there for a moment, staring as she walks out, still feeling such an odd pull to this girl.
Even though I don’t know who she is, there’s so much I strangelywantto know.
I shake my head, telling myself I’m just overthinking this, that it doesn’t mean anything. She’s just a pretty face I can’t ignore.
Right?
42
Lydia
I take each finger in my hand, twisting and pulling on each one until it feels right, stuck in the cycle of trying to ease the unsettled way my body feels.
“You’re fidgeting, Lydia.”
I glare at Atlas sitting across from me in the backyard of his off-campus house. “I can’t help it.”
And I really can’t. Trying not to drink or use anything stronger until after our final midterms tomorrow has my skin crawling. I know I’m not addicted to these things—not in the normal sense of how someone would be addicted to something. I don’t need anything specific in my system to get through the day. I just need a release, any release. Something to take the edge off. Otherwise, the anxiety starts to show up physically, like it is right now, and I hate it. Most of the time, I don’t even realize I’m doing these little things, but when Idonotice myself doing them, or when someone points them out, or when I’m having a more stressful day than normal…it becomes ten times worse. It triggers every inch of my body to feel off, and all my senses go into overdrive, driving me crazy and making meneedto find any way to make it stop.
I watch as Atlas lights ablunt and takes the first inhale of smoke. He holds it in as he speaks. “Here,” he says, holding it out for me to take. “You need to relax.”
He blows out the thick smoke, and I instantly start waving it away while laughing. “Gross!”
I go to take the blunt from him, and as we’re both still holding it, he blows the rest of his smoke right in my face.
“Asshole.”
I snatch the blunt and shove him as he laughs at me. We end up just passing the blunt back and forth and talking for a little bit, falling into the easy rhythm we have together before going back inside. His two roommates and some other people I’ve never seen before are all hanging out in the living room together, drinking beer and watching a basketball game. Atlas walks into the kitchen, and I follow him, hopping up and sitting on the counter.
“I need some Adderall for tomorrow,” I tell him, leaning back on my hands.
He walks over to me, putting his hands on top of my thighs. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, and I give you first dibs now, ‘cause I’m running low.”
“Let me guess. College midterm junkies?”
He smiles and rolls his eyes at me. “What does that make you?”
I shrug. “Just Lydia.”
“Touché.”
“So…” I start. “There’s this party tomorrow to celebrate midterms being over—”
“There’s a college party every time the wind blows, girl,” Atlas says flatly. He walks over to the other side of the kitchen and pulls out a bag filled with blue pills from his backpack, dumping three into his hand and then putting them into another tiny bag before walking back over and handing it to me. “What are you really asking?”
I take the bag and slide it into the pocket of my jeans. “I was wondering…if you had anything new I could try. I’m feeling…celebratory.”
“You’ve only done Molly before and taken a little Adderall. Slow your roll.”
I give him my best pout face. “Hey! I’ve technically done bars too.”
“Taking Xanax for a panic attack is notdoingXanax, baby. Just like you don’tdothose antidepressants you probably still need to be on, either.”
