rage • l.h

7. case study

Whoever said that proximity breeds familiarity hit the nail right on the fucking head.

I wasn't used to having someone so familiar with me. Someone who not only anticipated my reactions but liked me despite them. Someone who genuinely enjoyed spending time with me, who didn't pity me for my shortcomings or run away with their tail between their legs when I lost it.

Evie wasn't perfect. She had plenty of annoying habits, sure. But as we spent more time chatting, truly getting to know each other, I found that her annoying habits didn't make me as angry as they should. Sure, I'd only lived with her less than a week, and sure, she pushed me in ways that made me uncomfortable sometimes. But what she didn't do was judge me.

The last thing I needed was someone new judging me.

I might have regretted the PDA with Mr. Knockoff Luke, but I didn't regret the pride Evie expressed. She made me feel normal, like a normal girl in her freshmen year of college. She was my key to normalcy, and I wasn't about to let that slip through my fingers.

I told all of this to Dr. Philips over our weekly video call. She said she was proud of me, not only for being a good friend but for accepting friendship. It was hard for me to see the good, to understand the fact that not everyone has ulterior motives. Sometimes, it's okay to just exist together.

Dr. Philips also reminded me of boundaries. She reminded me that without autonomy, I could potentially spiral. And that was the last thing I needed.

There was, however, one thing I just couldn't talk about with Evie.

You see, when I was isolated and left alone, I didn't have to worry about potential interactions. I didn't grow anxious at the thought of having certain conversations or seeing certain people.

I kind of missed it.

I couldn't tell Evie about the pit in my stomach as I got ready for class. I had skipped last Thursday, too afraid to see him. I had no excuse now, I needed to actually attend Psych in order to pass. And I'll be damned if I let a boy stop me from my education. Fuck that.

Although a tiny part of me considered curling up with a blanket and my HBO Max subscription instead of trekking to psychology 100.

"I actually am a little bit excited for class. Can you believe it? I'm one of those people that likes learning now. Did you know our ancient human ancestors used to fuck the monkey ancestors?" Evie chattered away as she rolled on mascara. I picked at the dry skin on my cheek.

"I thought we had the same ancestors." I offered.

"Well, we do. But when it was, like, a little differentiated, we still fucked the monkeys. Isn't that insane?" She went on about different anthropological theories despite having only attended a combined three hours of class.

I tried to listen, I really did, but as the clock ticked closer to 9:30, my stomach dropped. What were the chances he said fuck it and left me alone? After all, isn't that what I begged him for? Why did I feel a twang of disappointment at the thought of him moving seats?

I groaned, loudly enough to startle Evie, before slipping on the nearest hoodie. She quirked an eyebrow as she read the words scrawled across my chest.

"Do you skateboard?" she inquired, lips popping loudly post-lip gloss application.

"Not at all. It's my brothers." I scanned the words 'skate or die' in the mirror before adjusting my converse, fluffing my hair, and ignoring the pang in my chest when I thought about how much I missed my brother.

"Why didn't you tell me your brother was hot?" Evie shoved her phone in my face, a photo from my high school graduation pulled up. I hadn't even posted it on Instagram, let alone tagged him. How did she find it?