Page 49 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
Nick.
Yesterday, he told me his name is Nick, but I still don’t think it suits him. It’s just so normal when he’s anything but. His name is so average that learning it was almost anticlimactic. I liked it better when he was a nameless entity in my head.
I mentally force out those thoughts that have been taking so reality in my head. He shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence as the word “like,” unless I’m talking about how much I dislike him. Even if he is doing me a solid by letting me stay with him.
Though to be fair, I kind of backed him into a wall in that regard.
“Do you want to go to my wedding?” Lucy asks, interrupting my thoughts and taking me completely by surprise.
“What?” I parrot idiotically.
Because, really…
What?
Has she forgotten what I did to her? That I tormented her for months when she hadn’t even done anything other than befriend someone I was threatened by. I avert my eyes guiltily, remembering how, despite the way I had treated her, she saved me from being drugged and date raped by one of my marks.
Lucy is a good person. That’s something I’m not and will never be. It’s too late for me, but I’m glad I’m still able to recognize her goodness. That it’s at least not so foreign of a concept that I can’t see it for what it is.
“My wedding,” she repeats slowly, and I get the feeling that she’s laughing at me in her head.
Because as good of a person as Lucy is, she’s also weird.
And maybe even crazy.
One time, I was about to exit my dorm room when I caught sight of her beside her bodyguard, the on
e with her now. She was staring at a few of the girls in our hall and mouthing some pretty bizarre things, possibly something about Switzerland. Maybe even cheese.
As soon as I saw her, I pivoted and returned to my room, not down to deal with her craziness that day.
Staring hard at her now, I let out a pent up breath. “No, I heard you. I just don’t know why you’re inviting me.” I fidget from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is heading.
“Because you helped me out.”
And there it is. I knew she would bring it up, but I’m still not prepared to hear it. Because if I’m being honest, I helped her out of guilt. She helped me out, and even I knew that it was messed up not to do the same. But also, I thought that maybe if I helped her out I would find some sort of redemption. A way to end the guilt and the cycle of lashing out in anger.
I didn’t. Her presence annoyed me every second she stayed in my dorm room. So much so that Nella and I crashed at Lauren’s dorm room. And when it was over, I still didn’t feel like a better person.
Baby steps.
I cross my arms over my chest, as if the barrier will protect me from how uncomfortable this conversation is making me. “You helped me out first.”
She sighs. “Is that really how you want to live your life? An eye for an eye? Expecting everything to be reciprocated?”
I shrug, the movement awkward on my crossed arms. “Why not?”
It’s only fair.
“Because expecting something in return for everything you do is calculated, and that’s a shitty way to live life.”
I sigh, wincing automatically at the s-h-i-t word. “Why are we even having this conversation? Shouldn’t you be mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because I was mean to you.”
“You’re right. You were mean to me, but you’re not anymore.”
