We Are Tidal

Chapter Seven - Highs and Lows

Chapter Seven

Highs and Lows

Surprisingly, my head doesn't ache all that terribly the morning following the party. And my stomach doesn't flip and flop dangerously when I stand to go to the bathroom, knocking my clock off of my nightstand when as it blares Britney as my preferred morning alarm for college.  

Careering into the bathroom to wash my face and throw myself in the shower before I can convince myself to through myself back into the comfort of my bed, I wince at the bright light.

I groan with envy at the sight of Arya and Sansa, slumbering comfortably on my duvet. They're so lucky they don't have grades to keep up. After my tragic academic performance last year, I have a lot to make up for. But that doesn't mean I have to be dressed up to do it. Instead, I drive to campus in a well-worn striped crew neck and loose grey trousers. I double back for a half-moon necklace, tiny and made of fine gold. It was a gift from my father to my mother on the day I was born and is easily my favorite piece of jewelry.

I don't have time for breakfast - I barely make it to the biology building before my lecture starts. Offering my lecturer an unapologetic shrug, I scan the hall.

Willow gives me a disparaging look as I march down the steps, headphones around my neck and a coffee in hand. An oat milk latte. My absolute favorite.

She raises a well-kept eyebrow in question - as if asking; you made time for coffee?

I shoot her a grin in return as I slide into the chair beside her. This is reproductive biology and its one of the only classes Willow and I share. While she majors in chemistry, I chose performing arts. Thankfully, this three-hour lecture is my only class of the day.

Willow is religious in her note-taking, and I am religious in my coffee-sipping. Nowadays, I listen but rely on online notes. Willow surprises me about halfway through the lecture and taps her pen in the direction of the top right-hand corner of her yellow paged notebook. The side closest to me. I read her slanted scrawl quickly.

Did you go home with Art last night?

Quickly, my heart begins to race and I have to work hard to keep my face passive as she watches me out of the corner of her eye. When I pick up my pen to respond, she looks finally looks away. When I drop my pen and Willow reads my response, she scowls.

Did you "bond " with Kit?

It shuts up her questions at least until class ends.

"Are you going to answer me?" She demands, tugging on my silver hair, tied down my back in a flopping, still damp braid.

I sigh as dramatically as possible.

"Yes, Will, he drove me home and that is it."

When she grins slightly, I have to resist the urge to trip her down the lecture hall stairs. Outside the biology building, just as I am about to ask her about my question, someone tackles me into a bush with a forceful shove against my shoulder. 

"Fucking hell!" I yelp, extracting myself from the rosebush to see Willow, doubled over with laughter as Gabe rubs his face in horror.

"Sorry Dyl, but you were never this fragile!" He extends a huge hand and tugs me upright, brushing leaves off of my shoulders.

I turn to face him and give him a withering look.

"This, Gabriel, is precisely why I didn't miss you." Despite my inevitable bruises, I have to fight a small smile.

All intentions of smiling die away when Gabriel flips back his hair and pats the handbag he carries on his arm.

"This was cramping was style all morning, but I admit, it's growing on me."

He hands it to me, noting my hesitation.

"Art got it from Damien." Gab supplies.

Willow fidgets, looking between us. There is no denying the ire in my eyes at Gabriel's cool tone. He has no right to have an opinion on my past or current relationships. Not when he effectively ended our friendship when we both needed each other.

"Thanks," I spit out, pushing past him. "I'll see you at dance."

I feel a sudden rush of love for Willow when she links arms with me and pulls me towards our favorite campus restaurant, The Locker.  Gabriel watches us leave and I don't miss the hurt on his face.

Over fries, Ava and Nicole recount the previous night and I am forced to explain that Art dropped me home.

"Well I guess Damien was simply too high to drive you home," Ava says, her tone clipped.

I fiddle with a piercing high up on my left ear, my stomach sinking. Usually, I wouldn't argue. Truthfully, usually I am too numb to argue. But the echo of last night with Arthur Heaver still sticks in my brain and a flash of anger crosses my chest.

"You were also high, Av," I snap. Nicole raises her brows and grits her teeth.

Ava rolls her crystal blue eyes and flicks her blonde hair over a shoulder. Before she can retort, Willow gives her small shake of her head. Not again, she is likely thinking. Not another fight with Dylan about her boyfriend's recreational drugs use.

I squeeze her hand under the table in gratitude and she squeezes back.

"So, who did you disappear with Nic?" I ask, feigning complete interest, though my thoughts have already begun to sink and the usual drag has begun on my brain. I can feel my ability to function slip away with whatever surface emotions I had gathered for the day. Or whatever surface emotions telling Art the truth last night had swelled within me.

As I drive home, I wrap my fingers on the wheel impatiently, full of frustration. Frustration at myself, at my depression, at the grief that still clouds every movement and thought like an ever-present shadow. Invisible to all but me.

That's not true, though. I have my friends. I have dance. Even if I am bad at managing both. That reassurance doesn't stop me texting Damien the second I get home.

Need you. Bad mental health day. Can you come over?

I curl up on the couch with while the dogs run wild outside and wait for Damien to text me back, to distract me from the deep and familiar weight that is beginning to settle into my bones again. When an hour passes and my phone doesn't make a sound, I drag my duvet to the couch and settle in to ignore the hollow ache in my stomach, not wanting to make dinner.

I cocoon myself in the living room as the evening light dims to darkness, watching the shadows lengthen on the walls, over our family pictures. As I watch them disappear from sight, my eyelids begin to droop.

A/N

Hello everyone,

I hope you like this chapter - I'm aware not too much is happening in this one, but it was necessary to get a sense of Dyl's regular schedule during the college year. See you soon!

Love to you all,

Jen xx