We made small talk on the way to the bus stop the next morning—how was your evening, have you finished the English essay, blah blah.

Though once we had reached the end of the street and were waiting for the vehicle in question to arrive, he hit me with, “I get you said you don’t have friends—other than me, of course—but do you really have no one to sit with?”

“That’s how not having friends works,” I mumbled, feeling a little self-conscious of him pointing out my loneliness like we were talking about the weather.

“But even on the bus or in class. Normally there’s some stranger who will frequently—”

“You said it yourself. I’m unapproachable.”

“Again, not my words. Just others’.”

“Well, that’s how others see me, which is why they don’t sit with me.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and I wondered if this was the part where he was going to tell me I should change or put in the effort myself—the same rhetoric my dad used to give me until he gave up trying to force me to make friends. Yet instead he said, “Then you’re just going to have to sit with me in future.”

The spit I was just about to swallow travelled instead down my windpipe, and I coughed and gagged for a few seconds. 

Frazer handed me a bottle of water, and I grabbed it from him without questioning, chugging it down until the burning ceased. 

Then I realised it was his water bottle. Especially when I handed it back to him and he immediately uncapped it and took a sip himself. 

“You good?” he asked me.

I nodded, but I was also sure I could cook a steak well-done on my cheeks with how flushed they were. “You have a friend group though,” I finally mumbled back.

“And you’re part of it now.”

“I don’t know them.”

“We didn’t know each other until two days ago. You’ll get to know them.”

“I don’t—”

“They don’t bite… much.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“You don’t have to try to do or be anything around them, okay? If it doesn’t feel natural talking to my friends, then don’t. But I’ll be there, and you know you can talk to me. Just give it a go.”

“Okay,” I conceded.

“Great! Oh, and at lunch we sit in the music room. Mr Maldo doesn’t like food in there though, so eat before you come in.”

Before I could say anything further, the hiss and groan of the bus rounding the corner of our street sounded down the end of the road, bringing the conversation to a close.

My stomach churned when it came to a halt in front of us.

My knees wobbled as I climbed on before Frazer—because he was smart enough to know he had to usher me up the back if he wanted me to join him.

And that lump returned to my throat as we neared the back, all eyes of his friends turning towards us.

Rather than sitting on the bench at the back, I turned into the one before. Frazer didn’t question me, taking the empty seat beside me before pivoting to face his mates. “You guys know Emilia, right?” he said.

“Hi,” I mumbled with an awkward wave of my hand.

Which led to my mind racing with self-deprecating thoughts, distracting me from memorising the names of Frazer’s friends as he introduced them.

“Wow, Fraze. I didn’t expect you to actually befriend Snappy Em. Good work!” one of his mates tried to jest.

Though Frazer responded with a glare, before saying, “You’re not even funny.” As the group was quick to turn to another topic, Frazer turned towards me and whispered, “Ignore him. Kevin’s a wanker ninety per cent of the time.”

I responded with a weak smile, and Frazer turned back around to join them in conversation. But given the chatter was about some raid they did on a multiplayer game last night, I turned towards the window, slipped in my headphones, and wished I hadn’t let Frazer talk me into this. 

Never had I felt so out of place. And never had I felt more lonely, even though I was sitting amongst others.

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ 

“Emilia. I haven’t seen you here in years,” the groundskeeper Harvey greeted me as he walked past at first break. I had tucked myself in the nook behind a bush by the manual arts building, which, “You know this area is out of bounds right?”

“Please let me sit here,” I replied, desperately not wanting to return to my usual seating area or elsewhere that was visible.

“Are kids picking on you again?” he asked in shock. Because it would be odd behaviour for students who have almost finished their final year of school.

“No. I’m just… avoiding someone.” Frazer had reminded me when we got off the bus to join them in the music room at lunch. However, after how much of an outsider I felt on that bus ride, I was reluctant to do so. And also scared to tell him no.

Harvey shook his head. “That’s not going to fix anything, Emilia.”

“I know. I’ll… sort things later. Just not right now. So is it okay if I sit here at least today?”

“Very well. I’m sure you know to make sure the area is clean?”

“Of course.”

As I was finally alone with my lunch, music, and thoughts again, I began to rehearse in my head what I could possibly say to Frazer if he asked me this afternoon where I was. And when all possible excuses sounded awkward, I also wondered if I should just walk home. 

Many sighs were heaved that lunch break, and I was glad I didn’t have English that day.

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ 

I intentionally lingered behind after my final session so that I’d be late to the bus. By the time I boarded, Frazer was already seated up the back with his friends.

Just like yesterday, our gazes locked when I climbed the steps. Though this time his eyes were shrouded in a touch of sorrow.

I was quick to look away, showing my pass to the bus driver and grabbing the first available seat, closest to the front.

As I fished my headphones out of my pocket, suddenly a figure loomed over me, and I already had some clue who it was.

Glancing up at his tall figure that crouched below the bag racks above, he said, “Are you joining us up the back?”

I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back the stinging in my eyes as my stomach began to churn at the confrontation. I knew this was coming. I tried practising for it. But now faced with it, I was struggling to stifle the anxiety that came with potentially letting him down. Which was why, in the end, the only response I was able to give him was a shake of my head.

Any remnants of joy fled his face, with only disappointment remaining. He didn’t say another word. He merely turned around and disappeared from my sight.

I shrunk further into myself, resting my head against the glass of the window as I took deep breaths to keep my emotions in check. 

This is why I don’t have friends… It’s not that I’m snappy or unapproachable—that’s just the front I’ve learned to put on to keep people away now.

The truth is, every time someone gets close, I end up being a big disappointment. Because I never say the right things. Because I don’t say anything. Because I’m too worried about not being liked to even give anyone a chance to like me.