Page 2 of Fallen Thorns
We caught up for nearly two hours and our drinks grew cold. So we queued up for another and then another, laughing about our student loan going down the drain. I completely forgot about how miserable I’d been earlier that day. I never thought about university, or how I regretted starting this course, or how desperately I wanted to go home to see my dog. Nor did I worry about signing up for groups to make temporary friends or going out and getting drunk with strangers to meet someone and lose my virginity, or the fear of pulling all-nighters to study for a degree that was destined to land me in a financially unstable, dead-end job, as I would never find success in the publishing industry and —breathe.
All things terrified me, and if I was left alone long enough (which I often was) the doubts invaded my mind and gnawed away at me, piece by piece, until I’d either cry myself to sleep or infrequently but regrettably, do something worse.
But for those blissful two hours, I was free.
“Oh gosh, is that the time?” Rani stood, raking her jet-black curls into a low ponytail. I hurtled back to the present.
“I said I’d meet with Mila and Ava and some of the other girls to discuss some things. Wanna come with?”
Did I? Not particularly. I’d only met Mila and Ava once before; it had been an awkward introduction and I felt bad imposing on a group of close friends who probably didn’t want me around. So, like I always did when I felt a rising sense of social panic, I respectfully declined the offer. Rani insisted she’d stay by my side the whole time, but I offered her a grateful smile and assured her I’d be fine. I made up something about finishing the work I had planned. She left me and said she’d message me later, thanking me — as she always did — for a lovely catch up. While I watched Rani hastily charge out the door, I forced down the cold dregs of my third pot of tea. I intended to remain seated and continue reading, but that part of my brain had long since shut down. Instead, I zoned out, staring out the windows across the room: mostly daydreaming, with a bit of people watching, until the thoughts started.
"Excuse me, sir, are you using this chair?” An elderly woman broke me out of another daze. A tray with a pot of tea and a slice of carrot cake trembled in her hands. I shook my head and smiled, instinctively standing up to take the tray from her once I noticed the bag slowly slipping from her shoulder. She commended me with words of gratitude and told me what a gentleman I was as she made herself comfortable opposite me. “Men like you are few and far between these days,” she said. “It was so different back in my day. Now all you young’ns are so engrossed in your tiny devices and those ear buds, you forget how to communicate!”
The Arlo in my head rolled his eyes but on the surface, I laughed in agreement, to prove I was one of the good ones. Normally I was opposed to small talk, but as she nattered away, I figured she lived alone. Perhaps this was a regular thing she did for some company, so I welcomed her discussions and added to her points where I could, and when she was close to finishing her drink, I bid her farewell and left the coffee shop with a smile on my face.
Life wasn’t so bad sometimes.
Four thirty.I checked my watch as I ambled back to my room. The sky was a mixture of pink and orange clouds post rain; the Victorian street lamps flickered on in sequence up the bank, and an amber glow lit the sodden path below. Stores pulled their shutters while restaurants filled up, and as much as I told myself I preferred my village back in the west, I picked one hell of a city to move to. It reminded me of Keswick or Ambleside: painted, stony edifices in all shapes and sizes, packed together up and down narrow, paved hills. And of course, there was the cathedral (a place I was shamefully yet to visit despite living so close), which stood proudly at the height of the town, protecting the city from centuries of harm.
As someone with an appreciation for history, I respected the effort that had been put into maintaining such a quaint ‘frozen in time’ city-centre. Sure, there were plenty of modern additions as well, despite some of the questionable works ongoing slightly outside the centre, yet nothing could mask the beauty of the bridges and the river walks. Degree aside, there were far worse places to live.
I’d taken my wandering observations a little too far when I reached the top of the hill, barging straight into to someone. I stepped back to find a young woman with bold green hair, dressed in a studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. She hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking either; while I was looking up, she was looking down.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, “did I hurt you?” I raised my hands in an embarrassed panic.
“No, no,” she replied, “I’m fine! It was my fault.” She offered me a sweet, dimpled smile, then continued on her way.
I hoped she’d forget our brief interaction by the time she reached her destination, but my mind feared she’d go home thinking about the rude man she bumped into.I need to be more careful, I thought, and mentally apologised to her the rest of my way home.
Home was not quitehome,but it was the closest thing I had to it, and was conveniently based in the centre of town, surrounded by quaint 19th-century terraced houses. The building was a little dated, as were the furnishings but I was blessed with a somewhat decent view of greenery. My neighbours were not perhaps the sweetest, having travelled from Oxford with the belief that the university was built for only people like them, but I kept quiet enough to not have to engage with them. They were too engaged in each other — evenings beside my thin walls would kindly remind me — but the little I let them know about me, the safer I felt.
I threw my bag down and sat at my desk in the middle of my room, opposite the window. Though I had ample time to complete my coursework, I sat and twisted a pen between my fingers as darkness consumed the room. I didn’t bother checking the time, but judging by the growls in my stomach, I needed to make something to eat. But I didn’t. I often didn’t, in fact, as I could not be bothered engaging in small talk with the other residents. Despite my mind insisting that Ishouldeat — even if that meant ordering a takeaway — my body refused to move. So, I sat staring out of the window, watching as the branches bent and curled over the mock gas lamps while browning leaves swirled across the path. I was glued to the chair, my breaths thickening as the pounding of my heartbeat sounded in my ears. Sweat beaded my brow, despite the freezing temperatures both outside and in. I wasawareI needed to move and occupy my brain, and perhaps a change of scenery would have helped, but I justcouldn’t. Suppressed doubts from the day broke the dam in my mind, waves of anxiety flooding through. Why didn’t I go with Rani? It might have been nice; I might have enjoyed myself and proved my overthinking was baseless. I needed to stop avoiding people in fear of awkwardness. What about that poor young woman I bumped into? Was she thinking about our unfortunate encounter like I still was?Why can’t I just be normal?I chewed my gums to oblivion.
Two heavy knocks pounded against the door, powerful enough to stop me spiralling. I stood and fanned my face, steadying my breathing as I invited reality back in. I took off my thick, knitted vest and ruffled my hair.Why are you like this, Arlo?
“Arlo, it’s me. Rani. Are you in there? Can I come in?”
I glanced at my bedside clock; it was almost seven-thirty.
“Yeah. Hang on.” I shook my head and turned on the light. I quickly neatened up my bed, and though Rani wouldn’t mind the mess,Iwould mind knowing she’d see it.
I unlocked the door for her and welcomed her in. She’d changed outfits since I last saw her, or was she wearing that cream jumper earlier?
“Cold night?” I asked. That was usually how I started conversations, commenting on the weather. I really needed to work on icebreakers.
Rani made herself comfortable on the edge of my bed, clutching onto her coat, so I casually rested against my desk, thanking some higher power for my long legs that spared me from yet another awkward moment of ‘where do I sit?’ Sitting at my desk would have seemed too informal, the wall too unnatural, and the bed… well, I was a nineteen-year-old virgin with a pretty girl in my room; my mental timer was set to self-destruct for even considering the thought.
Rani didn’t react to my statement. I must have misread the reason for her visit. This was not a happy meeting.
She lowered her head and sighed. “Arlo, I came to apologise.”
That was unexpected.What did she have to apologise for?
“I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I really do believe we’ve become good friends, especially since we started here. I really appreciate your company, and I just wanted to apologise for leaving you today; that was a really shitty thing for a friend to do.”
I was in shock and had absolutely no idea how to respond. In my eyes, she had done nothing wrong. She invited me to go with her friends and I said no. If anything, it wasIwho had to apologise. I looked at her, my heart full and confused.
“Rani, you have no reason to apologise,” I said, brows furrowed.
