In Your Corner | ✓

Eleven

Josh doesn't call.

Not that I necessarily need him to, I just really want him to understand that he can.

So, despite fretting my way through the usual Sunday evening dinner at Dad's, not hearing a word from him, and waking up multiple times in the night, panicked that he's called and I've missed it – I realise that maybe he doesn't need me.

That doesn't mean that I feel good about it.

The images from Saturday night spin on a never-ending slideshow in my head: Josh crumpled against the wall; tears pouring down his face; shifting away from me when he thought I'd told the girls; but pulling me close in bed.

The fact I don't really know who I'm allowed to talk to about this doesn't really help. I haven't breathed a word to MJ or Anandi, despite wanting to spill my guts the minute that I saw them.

By the time I settle myself down in the library at nine o'clock on Monday morning to work on an assignment, I snap.

Pulling out my phone, I type without really thinking.

Nat: Hey. How are you getting on?

I don't really know what to say other than that, so I just put my phone back on the desk and load my laptop up.

I have some reading to do for a class I have this afternoon and I'm halfway through an article about the upkeep of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, when my phone buzzes on the table next to me.

Josh: I'm good, thanks. How are you?

My stomach sinks at Josh's flat, concise reply.

Clearly, he's not up for talking. But what else am I supposed to do? Saturday night was very traumatic for him. I only want to help.

I can't tell if I'm supposed to be offended or not that he was so closed-off, because I'm pretty sure I was there for him how he needed on Saturday night, so why wouldn't he trust me to do the same again?

Nat: Reading about the Golden Gate Bridge in the library

I'm about to type out another message, but my phone vibrates again before I can.

Josh: Need some company?

My face threatens to split in half because of my smile and the knot I've had in my chest all day lessens a little.

It doesn't bother me that the situation has almost flipped, as though it's me who needs the company, not the other way around. It's just good that he's reaching out.

Nat: Would love that. I'm on second floor, near the water fountain

I try to turn back to my work, but my knee starts bouncing and I find myself looking up every ten seconds to see if Josh has made his way here yet.

I spot his curls first. He's looking around, trying to locate me and when he does, a small smile slips onto his lips.

He wanders over, dressed in a black UBC soccer hoodie and matching track pants that cling to his legs. His thumbs are tucked under his backpack and my heart stutters a little at the sight of him, despite myself.

Taking his bag off his back, he slides into the seat opposite me. "Hey," he whispers, his foot reaching out and nudging mine.

"Hey," I murmur back, aware that we're not supposed to speak on the second floor.

Josh opens his backpack and pulls out his laptop, setting it in front of me. To my surprise, he also fishes a hardback book out and places it on the table.