The Odds in Our Favor (WLW)

THIRTEEN

♥ Lucille ♥

I don't know why seeing Kiara with her friend bothered me. Her friend seems nice and like they mean well, but they seemed so close.

They were so close, physically. When Dakota and I first walked in, they were practically cuddling.

I don't know what's going on with Kiara. She's been distant. I'm assuming it's got to do with her mom still, which makes me even more worried.

I'm going to be honest, I'm beginning to see Kiara in a better light now. Obviously, she was kind to me a few weeks ago when I was struggling. And since then she really doesn't seem to have had any ill intent.

I like solving problems. I like patching things up. I like everything to be perfect and happy. So I want to help Kiara, but I don't think she wants that.

A few weeks ago, I genuinely believe I would've been fine not speaking to her for a while. But right now? I want to talk to her.

I want her to talk to me.

She's annoying as shit, but she's funny in the most irritating but best way.

She's dork—like me—but in an admirable way.

I listened to that song she mentioned on Sunday. It was really good but depressing. She had pointed out how deep the lyrics are. It worries me a bit. I worry she might relate to the lyrics. I hope she doesn't. And if she does, is there anything I can do?

God, I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't stop worrying about this. I need to talk to her upfront.

I check the time. 4:56 PM. I'm supposed to be doing homework. We're in Dakota's dorm. She's working on an essay and I'm supposed to be doing my work as well, but I can't focus.

I should go home. I need to speak my mind before I explode.

♥♥♥

When I get back to the dorm, It's just Kiara. Perfect. Time to force a conversation.

"Hey," I greet.

Kiara nods stiffly. "Hi..."

She's standing in the kitchen, as am I now as well. "I want to talk to you..."

I don't give her an opportunity to respond. I need to get this off my chest or I'm going to end up taking it back and giving up. "Listen, I am... worried about you, I guess. I don't know what's going on with your mom but it seems to me that you're pretty messed up about it. For some stupid reason, I have developed a small liking towards you, and my hatred has shrunk. So, naturally, as your roommate and friend/acquaintance, I am concerned. And I... I want you to be able to talk to me."

Her face reads surprise. And she's quiet for a bit, debriefing my words. She sighs. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you... I haven't really been trying to, I've just had... other things on my mind..."

She walks past me to sit down at the dining table. I follow, and then take my seat across from her.

She places her chin on her interlocked hands, her elbows bent up against the table, taking another breath. "My mother's a bitch. Like, emotionally abusive, I guess. She's coming to visit on the 27th, which is going to suck. I'm stressed about seeing her again and because she can be really shitty. That's really all there is to tell."