Chapter 13

Lista Playlist: ‘Like a fool’ - Kiera Knightley (Begin again) soundtrack

I’m not sure if it’s just my overthinking, but Quin seems off. His smile wasn’t right when I first walked into the lecture room, and he’s rarely looked over at me.

Not that I always expect his eyes on me, but it seems as though he’s actively avoiding me. Or it’s just me. I’m probably just reading him wrong after what happened between us. I need to stop assuming the worst. It’s often not the case. I won’t lie, whenever I watch him speak, I find myself lost to the sight of his lips moving, imagining them on mine like they were again this morning. He stutters a few times throughout the start of the lecture, but continues strong, as always. He seems tense. Like he’s got something weighing on his mind. I’m hoping it’s not me. He’s collared a few students who spoke over him, and he’s seemingly less forgiving than usual. He’s raised his voice and reminded everyone of his rules. I’ve never seen him like this.

He ends the lesson, and I’m looking forward to catching up. I need to plan my next session with him too, so I’m definitely using that as an excuse to speak to him, despite feeling like It’d be a better idea to leave him be.

“Quin, great session. Can I catch you quickly in a moment?” I ask as people are still getting up and leaving.

He looks strained. Tense. He clenches his fists slightly as he looks up at me briefly before speaking. “Oh, good afternoon Callista. I don’t have much time so could you email me” he says bluntly. I smile, but he just occupies his hands, and keeps his eyes on his laptop, avoiding making anymore eye contact with mine or me in general. He’s not joking or playing around, is he?

“Oh. Sure. It’s just about our next study session. Is everything ok? –.” he abruptly interrupts me.

“Yes, just email me I said, and we can sort it out. I’m just very busy right now, Callista”.

Message taken. And he’s far from joking around.

“Right…Ok Doctor Russell ” I say as I swiftly walk out with my head down, embarrassed. Cue self-doubt. He’s regretting it. He’s regretting kissing me. He’s realised there are far better choices than me out there. Why did I get my hopes up? I’ve done it again to myself. Thinking he could look past my issues. Fucking idiot. A tear comes to my eye as I speed walk to my car. I stumble a few times and the pain ebbs and flows in my residual limb. I find that trauma and stress mess with my body immensely. I use the breathing exercises I’ve learnt and safely make it to my car. As I’m getting in, I see Pierce on the walkway, looking over at me smiling. It’s not a genuine smile. It’s the possessive kind. I quickly lock my doors and drive away.

Did someone see what we did? Has someone said something to Quin? Or maybe he’s been asked out by someone, so needs to stop our little... whatever it was. Maybe he just didn’t want to speak to me in front of other students. My thought processes on the drive home are dangerous, and I do all I can to stop the tears from clouding my vision. It’s difficult. The dizziness comes in waves, and I’m terrified of crashing. Luckily I’m close to home and occupying my thoughts however I can. I try to drown out the voices in my head by listening to some Taylor Swift, but honestly, all of her songs are so relevant that they make me want to sing full blast and cry until there’s nothing left to release. The songs from Folklore keep me company, and now my life truly feels like a movie. Thanks TS.

In very true Taylor Swift fashion, I spend the rest of the night huddled up with Kitty Edith, every blanket I own, endless cups of decaf tea, my current Elsie Silver read, reruns of New Girl, and heaps of my favourite Chinese takeaway food. I deserve it. I go through everything that happened in my mind over and over, and realise I’m probably just overwhelmed and confused by the sudden change of Quins behaviour.

I do tend to be quite sensitive to other peoples energy. I put all this panic down to my struggles with regulating my emotions. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve taken something from a situation and massively blown it out of proportion. The nervous energy dissipates slightly at the thought of this whole thing just being in my mind. I hope it’s that anyway. I decide to try and put my mind at ease by reaching out to Quin. Coming to a logical mindset helps hugely when I’m spiralling. I’m also not at all passive aggressive. If there’s a problem, let’s talk and sort it out.

Lista: Hey, you seemed off during and after the lecture. I hope you’re ok. I’m here if you need me. Are you still on for our study session this week? x

It takes around 10 minutes for his reply. My stomach twists and turns as I open up the message, desperately hoping for an explanation that will help make sense of things.

Quin: I’m fine. Hope you’re ok. Friday should be ok for the session, after lectures. We’ll keep them at Cosy Corner Coffee. I shouldn’t have done what I did with you, so let’s just keep this formal and professional from now on. I’m sorry Lista, I really am.

Ok… So, maybe it’s not just my difficulties in regulating my emotions.. Has something happened? Does someone know about us?... Or it’s plainly obvious; He’s regretting what happened because it’s me . Silly silly me, thinking he was different. Guys always seem to change their mind when it’s to do with me.

My chest constricts and I type out my reply through clouded vision from the tears in my eyes.

Lista: Oh. Ok. Thanks. That’s fine. I get it. I won’t bother you now. I know you’re busy. Sorry for taking up your time.

I’m feeling fucking petty. And I’m not fucking sorry about it. The lump in my throat is enough to make me feel choked. I’m angry. I’m fucking angry! I’ve led myself right into another trap. And now here I am. I’ve been lifted into bliss, just to be dropped into the shit. Again. I thought this was going to be something real. I was feeling full of hope, safety, sexual tension, happiness and pure balance. Now I’m in a deep pit. No lights on. No one to wrap their arms around me. Just me. Alone with my most depressing thoughts about how unlovable I am, again. No mum to call. No dad to threaten to beat up the guy who hurt me. No little brother to annoy the shit out of me and make me forget all about things. Just me. Alone. I can’t believe I’ve been this stupid again to think that someone was genuinely interested in me. Fool. I hit myself in the head, pull intensely at my hair, throw my phone and then realise I can’t go back to old ways. My realisation cuts through my cries. My body does not deserve the harm I could cause myself. I know that when I feel like this, like there’s no hope, I fall into dangerous thought patterns, so I reach for my crisis kit. I spend the evening crying, but not hurting myself, which is a huge thing for me. I struggled with trichotillomania after the accident. I pulled my hair so much that I ended up with bald patches, which in turn lowered my self-esteem and mood even more. With professional help, I recovered, but I still have tendencies which can be triggered by extreme emotional states, like right now. So I created a crisis kit, with the help of my therapist to prevent self-injury and find more productive ways to get through a bad time. I play my crisis playlist, which consists of mindfulness exercises, vestibular exercises, calming music and walk through therapeutic meditations. I use my elastic bands to fidget with and lightly flick on my wrist when I need it. I also use my tweezers to pluck at my leg hairs. These things help to ground me and help me feel something whilst I struggle to cope with the negative thoughts. I discovered these techniques during my teen years when I struggled with self-harm. In this moment, I realise how much I’ve grown and how far I’ve come. I smile and wrap my arms around myself, because fuck, I deserve it right now.

I don’t attend sessions for the next two days. I can’t face it right now, and the amount I’ve cried has made me feel drained and unwell. Despite my exercises, my balance is off, and I can’t work like this. I’ve told Drew and Professor Peters about my absence and that I’d be taking a few days to recover. I have however kept the reason to myself. Otherwise, I’ll be seen as the whiny girl who needs days off when she’s sad. And fuck that. Mental health and wellbeing come before all else, so everyone else can deal with it or swivel. Drew demands that he and the guys should come over, but I lie and tell him I don’t want them all to catch anything. Si and his annoying chemistry knowledge keep worming their way into my inbox, asking what kind of ‘ill’ I am and recommending different medications and remedies. They’d all disown me if they knew I was lying. Hell, I’d do the same if they were in this position and didn’t tell me. Drew still doesn’t know about what happened with Pierce either. I’m just terrified that I’d be blamed if I told anyone about how Pierce is with me. Speak of the devil . I get a text pop up on my phone. It is certainly not welcomed.

Pierce: Hey babe. Nice to bump into you earlier this week. Haven’t seen you much since the social, and you rudely left without giving me a kiss goodbye ;) I’m still picturing you in that outfit. I need to fulfil my promise and get my hands on you some more. Maybe I can come over later this week x

Who the fuck does he think he is? And what planet does he live on. I’ve made it clear that I’m not ok with these advances, but he thinks I’m just being shy.

I reply instantly.

Lista: Pierce, again, I’d really rather you didn’t message me things like this. I don’t need you to come over so please don’t. I’m unwell, but I’m fine. I walked out of the social because I was struggling. I felt uncomfortable.

Pierce: Was it Quin who made you feel uncomfortable? I saw him follow you outside x

Lista: No. He was helping me.

I don’t know why I’m defending Quin after what’s happened. But here we are.

Pierce: Well, I’m here to help you babe. You know that x

I don’t reply. How is he so blind to his own harassment against me? He seems to think it’s all some sort of flirtatious joke. And yet he’s the only one in on it, but it is not a fucking joke to me.

After some well-deserved time spent where it’s safest; with myself and Edith, I decide to take the rest of the week off. I email Professor Peters again and then decide I need to let Quin know about our session on Friday too. Not that he’ll be bothered. I just know I can’t be dealing with him right now with how I’m feeling. And I need to keep as far away from Pierce as possible until I feel stronger.

Am I isolating myself? Yes, I am.

Is it necessary? In my opinion, yes. I don’t feel equipped enough to deal with social interactions other than with my cat right now, and my mental, emotional and physical wellbeing come before all else, so I’m doing what is best by me. Thanks. Bye.