Page 48 of Endless Anger
I’ve never wanted people to feel like theyhadto be my friendor else.
Avernia was supposed to be different from Aplana, yet I’m no less of an outcast. Their involvement would make that worse.
“Poor Lucy,” Yuri mocks around bites of pastry, which are sticking to her flushed beige cheeks. “‘I have loving and supportive parents, boo-hoo. My life is so hard.’”
Without looking up, I give her the finger, and she howls with laughter.Jeez, is everyone here drunk?I take another sip of my beer, trying to catch up.
Aurora chucks a Ping-Pong ball away from herself. “Why are they even spending so much time harassing you when it’s obvious to anyone with a brain that you had nothing to do with the refectory fire?”
I track the ball’s movement as it bounces once and then sails right past the back row of red plastic cups. “Who knows? I made it onto the dean’s hit list, and that’s what matters, I guess.”
It’s easiest to punish the pariah, because no one gives a rat’s asswhether they live or die. Even at Avernia, a universitysupposedlyrevered for championing the underdog, there’s a social hierarchy that must be adhered to. It wouldn’t make a difference if I had an iron-clad alibi placing me in another state when the refectory fire broke out last week—since it was during a small demonstration I organized to protest drilling in the quarry.
The faculty want me to be guilty, so I am. They just can’t pin anything directly on me, so they’re trying to make me uncomfortable in the hope I’ll withdraw voluntarily.
But I don’t say that to Aurora. She wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment—or understand it. Most people around here love her because she’s outgoing and fun, so this isn’t an area she’s experienced in.
I can handle the heat. It’s not like I came here hoping to make nice with the administration.
The small crowd we’ve amassed—and bywe, I mean the three of them—erupts in a fit of cheers as someone makes a point. A field hockey player named Donovan or Kerrington orsomethingequally douchey shoves the offending beer in Aurora’s direction.
My knee still won’t stop bouncing.
“Drink up, PW,” the guy tells her, grinning wide like a literal wolf lying in wait to attack its prey.
She bats her long, thick eyelashes and lifts the cup to her lips. Severalwhoopsof excitement echo around us, and she guzzles it down in seconds before tossing it to the opposite end of the table.
“Boys’ turn,” she announces, swiveling her attention back to me. I roll my eyes, and she giggles. “Oh, lighten up, Luce. It’s a party. We’re supposed to be havingfun.”
“I hate fun.” I don’t—not really. I don’t even particularly hate parties or half the students that attend them.
Interacting with them is just not something I know how to do. It always feels like I’m trying too hard or not hard enough, and I’ve never been able to strike a balance. I’ve spent my entire life watching, absorbing, and mimicking, only to feel like a total fraud anyway.
Even now, as I drink my beer and stare at those dancing around us or reciting their top ten composers and forcing one another to strip for each incorrectly placed answer, I’m only doing so in the hopes of seeming like the rest of them.
Instead of blending, I end up on either extreme end of the spectrum and have nothing to show for it except people who are my friends because we’re related or we were forced into proximity.
If not for my room assignment with Celeste or the dates I went on last semester with Yuri, I doubt either of them would be hanging out right now.
Angry brown eyes flash in my vision for a millisecond, making my heart ache inside my chest, like a gaping wound that no one ever bothered stitching up. My mood plummets, and I shrink into myself more.
Bounce, bounce, bounce.
“Yeah, I know, but can’t you pretend?” Aurora pouts, handing me a second Ping-Pong ball. “Wanna play?”
“Not even a little bit.” I let the white sphere fall while my foot continues its assault on the ground.
“I bet you’d feel better.”
“The only reason I’m here at all is because you said you’d let me bitch about my morning.”
“And that was only if you came to lunch with me, but instead you spent the day in the library. Your punishment is unfolding, dude.”
“Ugh.” Celeste groans, pushing to her feet and downing the rest of her drink. She doesn’t toss the cup aside though, at least. “You guys are harshing my buzz.”
“Drink more,” Yuri suggests, then points to the bong. “Or try something new?”
Celeste shakes her head. “I didn’t spend all summer at the Ren faire with my family to come back to school and not have at least one full-moon rendezvous. I’m going to get another beer and try to find someone’s mouth to ride.”
