The Boy with the Blind Eyes

THIRTY-TWO

'I knew you'd be out here.'

Tamsin froze, her breathing loud in the sudden silence. She was at her pond—the pond she came and cried at; the one she escaped to when she couldn't be anywhere else. And like before, he was here. Again. Oddly, it made her shiver.

'Angus?'

He smiled a little and shuffled towards her, sitting down on the other end of the seat. There was a good three metres of space between them. She relaxed. 'Yeah,' he said lazily, propping his leg on top of the other one, spreading his arm across the bench. 'I kind of figured out it was your...place.'

Sniffling unattractively, she asked, 'How? No. Wait. Why are you here?'

His face was blank for a moment, so expressionless that she wondered if he'd even heard her. 'Well,' he said, emptily, 'I don't know. I guess I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. So...are you? Okay?' He asked her stiffly. It was like he didn't know how to ask the question without being tender about it. Guys like Angus didn't know how to be gentle with things like that—especially not to girls they barely knew. But then again, she barely knew him, either.

'Um, I guess?'

'Sounds like you don't really know.'

She didn't reply. Instead, she stared out at the glistening water in front of them as a blanket of calm settled over here. Despite everything that was going on; all her unanswered questions, Trey's retrieval, she felt peaceful inside. That feeling of belonging hadn't faded ever since she'd set foot on campus.

'Gosh, it's so beautiful,' she breathed. A second later, a chill shot up her spine and guilt overwhelmed her as she remembered—yes, she'd actually forgotten—that Angus didn't know whether or not it was beautiful. He couldn't agree with her or confirm it. Because he couldn't see. 'Oh my God.' She whispered. 'Hey, I'm really sorry— '

To her surprise, he smiled lazily in response. 'Tamsin, stop. Don't...feel uncomfortable around me because of...this.' He gestured to his glasses, covering his eyes. 'When people start doing things like that, changing their behaviour whenever I'm in the room, that's what makes it feel painful.'

She swallowed. 'I can see how that would...affect you.'

'It's okay. I mean, it's not good, but it's okay. I know what I am. I've moved on. I just wish other people would, too. They walk on eggshells around me.' He cleared his throat a second later, evidently embarrassed. He tried to amend it. 'I mean, it's more annoying than anything.'

She smiled sadly to herself, but refused to pity him, now that she knew how he felt about it. She'd be the same way in his position. 'So, can I ask you something?'

'Just did,' he pointed out, a dimple surfacing in his right cheek.

She laughed a little. 'Right.'

'So?' He prompted.

'I just wanted to know...what is it like to play music when you can't see what you're doing?'

He pursed his lips. 'I could show you better than I could tell you.'

At this remark, her cheeks coloured and her mind instantly went somewhere else. She pushed the thought away, embarrassed. 'Uh—okay.'

He stood up and offered her his hand. 'Come on.'

Tamsin didn't know why she hesitated at the sight of his hand. If Brett saw...it would be sending the wrong message. Then again, she was furious at Brett. Shrugging, she took his hand gingerly, hoping Angus didn't notice the dampening on her palms. She'd never really held a guy's hand—other than Brett's, of course—so it was a little weird. She didn't know how hard to hold onto it, but he seemed not to notice her aversion. She walked beside him, comfortable once they were out of sight and out of the cafeteria. The only thing she didn't understand was why Angus was so comfortable. Tamsin had thought he was dating Johanna, and she certainly didn't want to hurt or give Johanna the wrong impression in any way.