Running In Circles || Nicholas Ruffilo

three

Cassidy

I stood there for a while, just staring at the spot where Nick just stood. He was right. Is there any part of me that's sincere? Am I that big of a cunt?

I heard the door open and leaned against the wall, making it look like I had been relaxing here the whole time. I glanced over, watching Davis match my posture against the wall.

"So. Bad day?" he posed.

I looked anywhere but him, not knowing where this was going. I guess he's technically the head honcho here, which means he's probably about to give me a boss speech. "You could say that," I responded simply.

He hummed out a noise of acknowledgement. "Look, I totally get that, and I totally get the connotation of being in this field, but you're going to burn a lot of bridges quickly if you keep acting the way that you are," he said, straight to the point.

I raised my eyebrows up and straightened myself to where I was no longer against the wall. "What does that mean?"

He straightened himself out just like I did. "You may not think so, but you need all the help you can get when you get started. Getting started on a bad foot with someone just because you think you need to be tough and have your day ruined over some coffee is not going to go well for you." I felt my ears ringing, I was so pissed. "Go home for the day, come back tomorrow with new perspective. You'll be with Vincent because you need to branch out. See you then."

"Are you firing me?" I challenged.

"Definitely not. You'd have to fuck up really, really bad. But it won't be fun for you if you don't know how to work with anyone here healthily," he pointed out, heading inside and letting the door close loudly behind him.

I sat down on the ground, the pebbles of loose gravel digging into my ass unkindly. I have always known that I'm hard to love and hard to get to know, but I never knew that I was so instantly explosive that it makes people not want to be near me. Then again, I have never worked in a context of people that want to get to know each other well instead of just getting paid and going home. I felt an unfamiliar wetness on my cheek, making me wipe it away instinctually. I cursed under my breath and went to stand up, flinching when the door opened again.

"Hey," Tyler said quickly, investigating me as I dusted off my clothes, clearly taking in the fact that I had been crying. "Do you..." he trailed off, thinking to himself. "What food do you like?"

"What?" I asked, confused by the question.

"What's your favorite food?" he rephrased, handing me my purse that I just realized was in his hand.

"Oh, uh..." my mind went dizzy with anxiety, not wanting to deal with anything else right now. "Tyler, I've had a really bad day, and I just-"

"And I want to help make it better," he interrupted me. "Plus everyone in there is way too hungover for me to deal with right now." That makes way more sense, as far as why they're all so irritable.

"I really like Mexican food, but like, real Mexican food," I finally answered.

"Perfect, let's go," he waved me along, starting to walk away. I thought about giving him shit for basically being a stranger still, but I was too excited for the prospect of friendship and food to turn anything down. He led me to a blue Honda Civic, which actually fits his personality perfectly, and it was pristine in his car. I felt like I was doing it a disservice by sitting in the passenger seat. Modern Baseball started on the radio and I relaxed into the seat more as we rode quietly to a food truck that looked barely operable, but had a couple of picnic tables to sit at.