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Miles and Celeste chatted beside me, giving me space to just be in the moment. Miles probably thought I was meditating or something, but I didn’t care. It was hard work always being present. Always staying engaged and active. Sometimes it was like having a parasite living inside me, and at any moment, it could take my body hostage, forcing it with its will. Sometimes, like right now, that meant crashing, retreating into myself to the point of silence. Other times, it meant lashing out. Screaming and yelling and crying and destroying things. Hurting things.
Usually myself.
Although my medication controlled that side of things much more effectively than it did this side.
“Hey, Harleigh.” A hand touched my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin. “Shit, sorry,” Miles said.
“No, it’s okay. I was just…”
Celeste gave me a sympathetic smile. She was used to me checking out.
“It’s peaceful out here,” I added. “I like it.”
“That’s good, really good.” Miles rubbed his jaw. He looked so clean cut and well put together, so different to the boys I was used to. His smile was easy, warm and inviting.
I liked Miles, I did. But he also scared me. The way his eyes lingered a little too long, searching for my secrets. The things I didn’t want to share or confess.
“Have you thought about any extracurriculars this year?”
“Who, me?” I glanced at them both.
“Well, yeah. It’s senior year. College applications are looming.”
“Oh, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“But it’s college? Your future. Surely you have some plans for—”
“Miles.” Celeste shook her head again.
“Nope,” I said. “I’m taking each day as it comes. Focusing on the little things. The rest will be there when I’m ready to—”
Raucous laughter filled the air and we glanced over to find a group of kids from school goofing around with a football. One of the guys tackled one of the girls and she shrieked, trying to escape his clutches.
“I really hate those guys,” Miles muttered.
“Who are— Oh.” Marc Denby appeared, arm slung over a pretty blonde girl I’d seen around at school.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before they notice us.”
“Yeah, okay.” I didn’t want to deal with Marc again. Not here. Not with his friends in tow.
We slipped out of the park unnoticed. At least, I thought we had until a trickle of awareness went through me. Discreetly glancing back, I scanned the park, expecting Marc to be watching me. Glaring at me. But he wasn’t even looking this way, too busy feeling up the blonde.
My brows furrowed as I did another sweep of the surrounding areas. I’d felt it, a zap of trepidation that went through you when you knew you were being watched.
But there was nothing.
With a frustrated breath, I hurried after Miles and Celeste, shaking off the sensation.
Maybe you really are losing your mind, Harleigh.
After giving me a drive-by tour of the town, Celeste and Miles decided to introduce me to Strike One, Old Darling Hill’s bowling alley. Everything was bigger and better and sleeker than any bowling alley I’d ever seen. It was an old industrial unit that had been renovated and turned into a boutique establishment. Dark brown leather booths serviced each lane, giving an air of privacy. The balls weren’t the usual neon colors but muted tones of brown, black, gold, and gray. Even the pins didn’t have the usual twin rings of red around their necks but instead a thick gold and black band. A bar made from industrial grating and steel pipes lined the far wall, complete with brown leather stools that looked almost as comfortable as the Chesterfield sofas dotted around the place.
“Neat, huh?” Celeste said as I followed them toward the back of the room. Past the bowling lanes and the couches to an archway that led to another space that housed a number of retro video games, foosball, air hockey, and a couple of pool tables.
“Could be worse,” I said with a dismissive shrug.
The truth was, it was kind of cool, and maybe in another life, I would have appreciated its industrial, edgy appeal. But I was exhausted. Emotionally spent from my first day at school, of constantly keeping myself in check.
