Page 80 of Brutal
“Hi, Janine,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her. “How was your summer?”
She looks up from her laptop, her expression going from one of concentration to something more open, more friendly. “Amber! Hi! It was pretty good. Well.” She scrunches up her nose. “I took a few extra classes, so I don’t know how ‘good’ you’d say that is. What about yours?”
Terrible. I got raped nearly every day.
I shrug and rip off a piece of my muffin. “It was fine. Didn’t really get out much. Had to work a lot.”
“Sucks,” she says sympathetically, and I can feel her eyes boring into me, like she wants to ask more. She must have noticed I haven’t been taking any classes. “Your hair looks gorgeous,” she comments. “I like this shade of blue on you more than the lighter one.”
I automatically reach up to touch my hair. “Thanks. It was… Well, a lot of my summer wages went into it.”
Was it always this easy to lie? I’ve never been super expressive—no, that can’t be right. I’d mouthed off to Giulio Pavone, and he’d decided to make my torture worse.
I can’t drum up the energy for that kind of passion anymore.
I sip my coffee and point at her laptop. “Already hard at work? I think most people don’t start cramming until an exam is around the corner.”
She laughs. “Yeah, well. They must not be psych majors. There is so much fucking reading.” She shrugs, and for a moment, she looks self-conscious. Vulnerable.
I wonder if she’s ever been hurt by anything in her life.
“What about you? I haven’t seen you around.” Janine shuts her laptop lid and sighs. “Did you switch majors?”
I shake my head, although at this point I feel like my body is fighting its way through thick goo. “Nah. Family things came up. I had to take the semester off to deal with that.”
What am I doing here? Everything I say is a lie. There is no way Janine could respond that would make me feel like I still belonged here.
Do I need to give up on this dream? Am I too broken, too dead inside, to have a normal life anymore?
Maybe I really am just Drake’s toy.
Janine fidgets uncomfortably. “So… why are you here? If you aren’t taking classes.”
I laugh bitterly. “I don’t know. I got a bit nostalgic? I wanted to see what I was missing out on? I wanted to prove that I still exist, that I still have meaning and worth and?—”
Oh, there’s that passion, that energy. Hiding just behind this wall I’ve put up to seal away my emotions.
I stop myself before my voice gets any louder. “Sorry,” I say. “I think I might have a few issues.”
Janine looks at me, wide-eyed. “Amber… Do you need psych services? I’m sure if you explain things, the campus counselors will let you talk to them.”
As a psychology major, I know exactly how important mental health services are. I’m not immune to that need.
But I’m not ready to tell anyone about what’s going on in my life.
“I’m… not fine,” I answer steadily. “But I’ll deal with it.” I finish my coffee and stand. “Thanks for the chat, Janine. Maybe I’ll see you next semester, if I can get my shit sorted.”
She doesn’t stop me from leaving. Maybe if we were closer friends, if I thought I could trust her or anyone not to make a scene, I’d actually talk.
It would be worse if they didn’t believe me, though.
What would the university do, anyway? They’d probably tell me to keep my mouth shut because they don’t want negative press attention.
I head back to the subway, and I start my way back to Drake’s apartment. When I need to transfer stations, I end up walking out instead, finding myself in the heart of New Bristol’s luxury shopping street.
I reach into my pocket to feel the credit card Drake had given me.
I can at least buy things. I can get a brand-new wardrobe for myself, more than just the few sets of clothes we’d gotten yesterday.