LAURA
My heart still hasn’t settled long after Olivia has moved onto the other girls. A part of me feels ashamed for keeping my head down like a fragile little flower, like some broken child. I am neither. I need to focus on the positive, ruminating won’t help. I smile. Tracey would be proud of me. She always told me not to dwell or ruminate. Here I am, not giving myself a minute to dwell on something that literally only just happened. Okay, for the positive, I am smart, and I understand what makes me tick.
“So for the next few weeks, you will work on an assignment in pairs,” Oliva’s words break through my thoughts.
I count to three.
“I want to be with Michelle.”
I don’t look up, but know it’s Maria who spoke. Her voice is distinctive; it has a high lilt on the end of it.
“Maria, you are with Michael.” Someone snorts. “Michelle will be with Ava.”
“Can’t wait.” I think it’s Michelle who speaks.
“Craig, you will be with Laura,” My stomach tightens. I don’t look up, but can feel Craig’s eyes on me. He assessed me on arrival into the room like I wasn’t worth his attention, and for that I was grateful. I know guys like him, and they are best kept at arm’s length-or a few countries’ lengths-away.
I glance up through my hair to see Craig staring at Olivia with his arms folded. His posture is stiff. She ignores him, smiling at the group. Her eyes meet mine and she nods. “So your assignment is to get to know the other person. I want you to learn five things about them that they haven’t shared with the group. So each day spend time together. Has anyone got any questions?”
“Yeah. I know everything about Maria. I wouldn’t mind being partnered with Laura.” I freeze, hating the new attention that has fallen on me from Michael’s words.
“I’m happy to swap,” Craig chimes in, and that stings. It shouldn’t have, but it does.
“That’s the challenge, Michael, get to really know her. Everyone will work with their assigned partners. No swapping.” Oliva speaks the last two words louder. “You can start now.”
Dread pools in my stomach. I still can’t find the courage to look up. Once again, the word ‘weak’ bounces around in my head.
“Can we leave the room?” Maria speaks now, pulling me out of my inner thoughts, and Oliva says we can go anywhere within the facility.
“Let’s take a walk.” His voice has my heart racing.
I focus on Craig’s denim jeans and count the tears along the thigh area. Five tears in total. He shifts his stance impatiently. I stand and count to three before pushing my hair out of my face. I don’t look at him, but wait all of ten uncomfortable seconds before he turns and I follow him fifteen steps from the room.
The click of the door behind me has me looking over my shoulder. It feels so final, but to what end, I don’t know.
“Look I’ll give you a list of shit about me. You write up one about you, and bingo. We passed the assignment.”
“Perfect,” I say without looking up at him. I sidestep, delighted for the freedom. His fingers curl around my forearm. My head whips up, meeting his green eyes. He releases me immediately.
“What’s your deal?” Craig asks, his voice full of suspicion.
My stomach gets all jumbly, confusing me. “I’ll write it down,” I tell him and walk away. He’s making me too aware of how odd I am. I hate how he is looking at me. Like I’m a freak. He doesn’t stop me this time, and for that I am grateful.
My arm seems to burn from where he touched me. I don’t return to my room, but go outside into the garden. The class is two hours long, so I know I have some time alone.
I count thirteen large rose beds before picking a spot under a huge oak tree. Resting my back against the bark, I close my eyes. Last night, I didn’t sleep well, and after the short meeting, I feel drained, like I’d had a long counselling session with Tracey. Right now, I want peace.
Light streams behind my eyes; the color changing. The need to count the colors has me opening my eyes. I wish I lived in a world with no numbers, no counting. Three birds land close by, pecking the damp ground that I sit on, but I don’t care that my black trousers are getting damp. I just want this – peace, this moment of freedom.
One of the birds spreads its wings and takes off. I wonder why God didn’t give us wings to spread and fly away when life got too tough. God. Each day that passes makes me question his existence even more. Yeah, people talk about free will, but if I were God, I would strike down the wicked and help the broken, the damaged, and the innocent.
I rip out the grass around me. “One, two, three,” I count out loud, stopping the tears. My vision blurs. I throw the grass in the direction of the taunting birds, with their stupid wings. Black crosses my vision as they take flight away from the stupid girl who throws grass at them because she’s jealous of their wings.