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Just as I turn the corner, and the stairs are in sight, something catches the corner of my eyes, slowing my steps.
A warning voice in my head urges me to keep moving.
But I can’t.
The doors open to outside as someone enters, and it just so happens to be the door I ran out of my first day here. The one that faces the pathway leading to the hidden cove.
Jaw quivering, I shake my head. Tap my fingers together. Count to five.
Go upstairs. Don’t go out there. He’s probably not even there anyway. And even if he was…now is definitely not the time to talk. Not when you’re like this.
I squeeze my eyes shut, bite my lip.
Here’s the thing about these meltdowns—what makes them potentially so dangerous… what’s gotten me into trouble every time I thought I finally got a handle on it—it takes what little impulse control I have on a good day, obliterating it into nothing.
A roar fills my ears, muffling the voice of reason I try so desperately to latch on to.
I want to listen—I do—I don’t want to be a prisoner to these…compulsions, or whatever they are that overcome me when I get like this. I don’t want to mess shit up more than I already did, but I don’t know how else to get rid of it.
Blowing my way outside, I squint, adjusting to the blinding light. I dart my gaze around, and before I can think better of it,I find myself heading down to the cove.
Somehow, I just know he’ll be there.
And he is.
Nolan’s sitting with his back to me, silhouetted by the high, afternoon sun. The teal-hued ocean spread out before him as wide and far as the eye can see ripples and glitters.
Storming down there, my jaw clenches, my nostrils flare.
I notice he stiffens the faintest bit, so I know he hears me.
Rounding him, I glare down at him and open my mouth to say something, when his expression gives me pause.
He looks exhausted and wary, but not at all shocked by the sight of me. In fact, I have the sudden suspicion he’s been expecting me.
And that just pisses me off more.
“You weren’t in group,” I say stiffly.
He stares at me for a long beat. Then, “I went yesterday.”
“Why?”
This time, I get nothing.
“You’re avoiding me.”
He scoffs quietly and looks down at his lap. Like every time I’ve seen him, he’s in ripped, light wash jeans that are scuffed with dirt, like maybe he works outside a lot. “There’s nothing to avoid. I don’t owe you anything.”
My eyes bug out at him, and something just sort of…cracks inside me. Scowling, I bite back a scream, and I just–
I kick sand at him.
“Hey!” he barks, shooting to a stand. “Seriously?”
My fingers tap together. “You’re being a dick,” I utter in a small voice.
He wipes off his face then his shirt. “Yeah, what else is new?”
