"She's in a bad mood."
My lips thinned as my ears caught the subtle murmuring of Chen in front of me. It was just a whisper of words, a slight indent in the breeze, but it was enough for my head to shoot up and send a disgruntled glare the brunet's way.
"Do you mind?" I asked, voice a little harsher than I had intended. I lifted the book on Social Histories I had in front of me. "I'm trying to concentrate."
Chen raised his palms in a silent apology and turned back to his own study materials. Kvasir and Ambrose shared a quick glance before pretending to look busy. The smoothed, aged wood of the library table between us held an ocean of awkward space and the soft mumblings of studying students, usually an accompanying, soothing soundtrack, was grating on the ear.
I slammed the book shut and stood, digging the edges of my teeth into the torn skin of my bottom lip. A metallic taste instantly bloomed upon the tip of my tongue but I paid it no mind as I closed my eyes and inhaled.
When I reopened my eyes, Chen, Ambrose and Kvasir were staring at me in apprehension. It just sent blinding, burning fury from my feet to my mouth and the words burst forth before I could tame my sudden spiral of emotions;
"I'm not going to break!"
The soft murmuring of students silenced considerably and the weight of their gazes had my cheeks flushing pink. My three companions continued to stare in silence. Indeed, I was a hypocrite. I had proved my own words wrong.
"Yo..." Ambrose began uncomfortably. "Are you, like... good?"
"I'm fine," I managed to say brusquely before snagging my textbook and stepping from the bench. After a moments hesitation, the three clamoured to follow my irritated march from the study desks and out from the library.
"That wasss a lie," Kvasir hissed in scrutiny. His yellow eyes stared at me as if he could read my mind through the frustrated lines across my face. "What'sss wrong?"
"Nothing!" I shrilled as I tried to storm away faster in an attempt to leave them in the dust. Unfortunately, they were all substantially taller and had no trouble keeping up. "Absolutely nothing, I'm totally fine."
"She's in denial," Ambrose whispered. The retort made me spin around and set a furious scowl in the elemental master's direction. He wasn't phased and instead raised his shoulders in a defiant shrug. "I'm right!"
My dignified response was a dismissive snort and a toss of my hair as I stalked off. The boys continued to keep pace.
"What is it?" Ambrose pressed while Chen and Kvasir trotted behind him unsurely. "You've been pissy ever since you returned from visiting Lloyd. Is it something to do with him?"
"No," I said, like a liar. "I'm just stressed because of exams."
"Stress doesn't make you this shitty," Chen piped up, pulling a sneer his way from my end. Once again, ignored. "Stress makes you cry and procrastinate and eat ice cream in the middle of the night."
Well, they were right, but I didn't want to admit it.
"Leave me alone," I said, scrunching my eyes shut as I powered across the courtyard. "Please?"
Ambrose frowned. It was the kind of frown that would settle buzzing live wires over my scalp. The kind of frown that would slump my shoulders, weigh in my chest and drag my feet. It was one that made me feel guilt.
"You're worrying us," he said, and his words made the weight in my chest sink my feet through the earth. "We just want to help."
I stopped. The boys stopped. I closed my eyes and sighed through my nose and they watched in a somber kind of eagerness that in which I saw myself. Would I not be the same if one of them felt the way I did? Would I not want to help in any way that I could if one of them were acting out like how I had been?
"I just... miss Lloyd," I murmured. My hands gripped tightly over the strap of my bag and I felt vaguely like a broken record. "I feel useless."
"Studying to get a degree in something is far from being useless," Chen said. "Just because you're doing something for yourself doesn't mean you're useless. And it's not as if you're abandoning them, either. You're not part of the team."
You're not part of the team.
That hit me like a truck. I was aware of it - of course I was - but to hear somebody else say those same words I'd been telling myself was like driving a hammer into a nail, ramming a car into a post, shooting a cannonball into a wall. I felt briefly winded.
You're not part of the team.
Chen seemed to realise that I took his encouraging words the wrong way. His lips closed into a regretful line, twisted down at the corners.
You're not part of the team.
But I want to be. I need to be. I'm sick of staying on the sidelines.
