Born Wrong

11. a girl who got a ride

Kala Roshan

Halfway through the week, I decided to take my life into my own hands.

I know this routine. This spiral of self-pity, guilt, and depression. This lackluster for the little things in life, surviving on the bare minimum. I treat myself this way because I feel that's what I deserve after an argument with Rihaan—that if I cause a problem, I deserve its punishment.

It's not fair to me.

I've been forgetting about why I'm alive. I've been depriving myself from the little joys I appreciate in the world—the sand between my toes, the flowers blooming through sidewalk cracks, and the sun against my skin. I don't like that. One of the main reasons I'm alive now is because of my appreciation for the world. It's not going to classes, not going to work, and not just going home. Those are an endless cycle of repetition and my brain is dulling out.

So, around fourth period, I decided I was going to skip.

I just don't know how.

After the bell rang, I snuck up to the second-floor bathroom. It was a way to make sure all the students would be secure in their classes and I wouldn't be caught in the crowd, ushered to my next period. That was one reason. The other was I hoped to see Bright. I haven't seen him this entire week and I haven't been able to return his jacket.

Nothing more.

As I wait for the transition period to end, I sit by the windowsill and look out through the glass. The school's greenhouse sits in view of the bathroom, located at the corner of the school yard, brimming in its circular architecture and sprouts of bright colors under the kaleidoscopic dome. I haven't had the chance to visit this year's season, but I'm hoping to soon. The mere anticipation of it brought a flutter of excitement in my chest, for a chance to see flowers growing—despite the fact that I'm allergic to them.

I didn't get the chance to admire for long before the second bell rings and I head out. I waited a couple of minutes just to be safe, before I descended down the steps of the stairs and into the open corridor. It is completely vacant, with closed classroom doors and no faculty strolling through the halls. I glance both ways, checking for any presences, before making a break for the parking lot.

It's freeing. For a moment, I feel like I am a main character in a nostalgic contemporary film. I feel like a rebellious teenager. Someone who skips classes, runs in empty hallways, and goes on adventures to live for herself. It makes me happy, and as I glance over my shoulders to check for anyone—I run into a body.

It hits me in full force. I thought I was going to fall backwards and land on my ass but the person quickly wraps an arm around my waist to keep me from falling. I shift my gaze, meeting Ford.

"Knight." He greets, pulling me to my feet and releasing his grip around my waist. I feel the sudden urge to brush away any lingering touches, but I ignore it, under the assurance that I was wearing a jacket that covers most of me. Instead, I square my shoulders, straightening my posture. "Where are you running off to?"

I don't answer him, choosing to glance down at my shirt to check if anything is noticeable, before confirming that most of it is covered by Bright's jacket.

I haven't been confident with my wardrobe since that day and I've been using Bright's jacket to cover most of my outfits since then. I know, I could've used any other outerwear, but there's a comfort in knowing why I have it. That I shouldn't make choices based on other people's opinions about me. It acts as a shield to remind me of that sentiment.

"Earth to Knight?" Ford waves a hand in front of me, drawing me away from my thoughts. I look up to meet his expectant eyes. "Where are you heading off to in a hurry?"