Page 152 of Composed
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I chew my lip, clenching my eyes shut as a gust of wind rattles the window. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, we don’t have to.” She presses her shoulder to mine for a beat, her warmth doing little to ease the ice slinking through my veins.
“Tell me a fun fact, Riles,” I say.
She hums, her fingers wiggling in her lap. “Did you know that giraffes are thirty times more likely to be fatally struck by lightning than humans.”
I shake my head.
“It’s because of their height,” she says. “It makes them natural lightning rods, and they tend to inhabit open savannas, which increases their risk during a storm.”
“How do you know this fact?”
Riley and I often play this game when things are too hard for one of us. I ask for the fact, she delivers. She asks for the fact, I Google. My brain doesn’t hold things the way hers does.
“I was terrified of storms when I was a kid,” she tells me. “The bright flashes, the thick air, the noises. I used to hide under my bed. I couldn’t talk back then, so I didn’t know how to communicate that fear. My dad figured it out after a couple years, and he spent days researching every fact about storms so he could assure me I’d be completely safe.”
I blink as tears caress my lashes. “You never told me that.”
“I was saving this fact for when we most needed it.”
“Why now?”
“Because I think you’re facing a storm that terrifies you.”
I look up at her, only to gasp when her eyes lock with mine.
Riley doesn’t do eye contact. It’s a sensory nightmare for her. But she’s looking at me right now, and I can’t tear away from her slate grey irises.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper. “And everyone keeps saying all these things to me. I feel like I’m being ripped in two. I don’t know how to make everyone happy without hurting somebody.”
“Why do you have to make everyone happy?” She places a trembling hand on top of mine. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to fit into a box for other people’s comfort. It’s fucking exhausting. And for years, I’ve watched you do the same thing. But when you came here, you expanded.”
My shoulders shake, a tear spilling down my cheek.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she says, her voice soft and warm. “Cole brings out this …sparklein you. You smile differently, you walk lighter, you breathe more.”
“What do I do, Riles?”
“You do what makesyouhappy, Hendrix.” Her fingers flex but she doesn’t pull them away. “And whatever that decision is, I’ll be right there by your side the whole time. You’re my favourite human. So, if that means we pick up sticks and I become a London gal, that’s what we’re gonna do.”
I sniff, brushing my sleeve under my nose. “I can’t ask you to give up your life for me, Riles.”
She scoffs, pulls her hand back, and looks away. She pulls in a deep breath as a perfect, beautiful smile splits her face. “As if you have any say in what I do with my life.”
My entire body warms. “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” She smiles. “Now go talk to him.”
Cole isn’t in his flat when I knock at the door.
I blow out a slow breath, before spinning on my heels.
My Vans click against steel as I jog up the stairs and onto Saint and Theo’s floor.
I rap my knuckles on their door. If there’s anyone else I can talk to about all this, it’s Saint.
