Page 468 of Lessons in Cruelty

Out here, surrounded by nothing but dripping trees and wet darkness, I feel it more than ever.

Even at the party tonight, with giggling sorority girls all around, I felt it. When I couldn’t join in the conversation because I had no clue what they were talking about. Couldn’t share, because I hadn’t experienced the same things they had.

I don’t know if there’s a way to purge the poison. I tried going to the train station in Ashwood Crossing during rush hour, standing in the middle of the hustle and bustle, surrounded by commuters.

Sometimes it worked, especially if someone looked at me. Hell, it made my day if someone said, “Hi,” and I got to greet them back.

But on the days I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact, no one would say a word. And I’d leave emptier than before.

I need to get back to civilization.

Need to find life.

Movement.

Noise, and voices, and energy. Even the clusterfuck of the GAZ foyer is better than this…if I can avoid Thatcher. I’m starting a new job tomorrow, but at this rate it’s like I’m actively trying to sabotage my first day. First the drinking, now this?

Even so, the stubborn part of me, the desperate part of me, the Riversider in me, wants to stay out here. She wants to—needs to—find Kai.

She always thought of him as the antidote.

I thought he’d be in the woods beside the campus. Guess a lot has changed in the past few years. Maybe nature isn’t his go-to safe place anymore. He could be at a friend’s house.

He’s got tons of them these days.

I should turn back.

But then I’d be letting Kai win.

Fuck that.

I’ve always been a sore loser. Mostly because Kai was a bad winner, always rubbing it in. Gloating.

Fuck him.

“I know you’re here, Kai! Show yourself!”

Bluffing’s all I got right now. Might as well lean into it.

But hearing my voice out here just makes me feel colder, wetter, lonelier than before.

What’s the plan anyway, Haven? What are you going to do if you find him out here? Comfort him? Crap him out? Kiss him?

Wait—why the fuck would I want to kiss him?

Because he’s such a good fucking kisser. That’s one of my few happy memories since I started college.

Kai kissing me.

Kai telling me he loved me.

I know he didn’t mean it. It was the drugs. But I pretended he was sober. That we both were. That what we had was pure and romantic and not at all fucked up to the nth degree.

I’m soaked through. My teeth are starting to chatter. And my bare feet are so cold that all I feel is a faint stinging in my toes. The icy rain feels like needles on my exposed skin, my lips and face numb.

Five more minutes. If I don’t find him, then I’m getting the hell out of here.

There has to be another antidote out there. One that won’t have worse side effects than what I’m trying to cure.