Patch Up by Stephanie Witter

attacks, but it’s been harder somehow. Everything felt ten times more difficult to take. I knew trusting Duke would be a huge mistake, but I thought I could handle the inevitable downfall. Apparently not.
     
    I don’t know how many times I’ve read this page already. It’s some kind of romance between a rocker and his ex-girlfriend who cross paths again several years later. Kate loaned it to me after she read it, forcing me to read it because apparently it’s hot and I need some hotness in my life since Duke is not around anymore. It’s sweet of her to think of me, and I might even enjoy her book if I were in a better mood, but all I can think about is how my roommate can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Unfortunately, she’s growing on me and I can’t find it in me to drive her away.
     
    “Stop pretending you’re reading. It’s been half an hour since you turned a page.” Kate sighs dramatically. She puts her shiny blonde hair in a messy bun, places her hands on her hips, and glares at me.
     
    I close the book and sit up, groaning inside. She’s about to launch herself into a monologue which is going to be the fourth of the week and each one being about Duke and why I should contact him. Dutifully, I cross my legs, lean against the wall, and put my pillow across my knees. I know that I have to be sat comfortably when she’s in this mood.
     
    “You know you’re driving me crazy?” I don’t nod, nor do I blink. It’s a rhetorical question, but it makes me uneasy. I know I’m not a typical student and it’s probably annoying her to have to put up with someone who obviously has issues and yet, she has never forced me to tell her why I am the way I am. “You’re a sullen girl, I get it, but since your fight with Duke it’s like ten times worse. Or maybe it’s because of your ex-boyfriend, but the point is if you don’t want to talk about it I can accept that, but what I won’t accept is seeing you even more closed up than you were before you met your TA,” she says all this with a deep frown, pacing our little room. “You don’t trust me enough to tell me your story, and that’s okay even if it kind of hurts, but I won’t tolerate the one word answers and you avoiding any kind of eye contact or seeing you letting those idiots bully you without a smart answer. It’s not you.”
     
    I grit my teeth. For the first time since Monday and my confrontation with Duke, I feel a wave of anger. It warms me, which is a little weird, but I find it comforting, too. “You don’t know me, Kate. Don’t say my current behavior is not like me because you don’t know what kind of person I am.”
     
    I can’t stand it when someone thinks they know what kind of person I am. Let’s face it; nobody would imagine that I am in fact a coward who can’t even defend herself in her private life. Nobody would think something like that about anyone. You can’t say you know someone even if that person is in your life for years. Just like, I didn’t imagine Sean capable of hurting me again and again. Just like, I couldn’t imagine myself being a silent victim of an abusive relationship.
     
    I don’t know what she sees on my face or in my eyes, but she comes to sit beside me and puts a tentative hand on my clenched fist. Her skin is soft, softer than mine, and the heat of her touch frightens me. I can just about take her touching me, but it’s still hard. I still hate physical contact. However, I try to remain calm.
     
    “I’m sorry, Skye,” she says, her frown slowly disappearing, easing the smooth lines of her heart-shaped face. “I feel bad when I see you so sad. And it’s hard not to ask you what’s wrong.”
     
    I relax my hand and let her pat it lightly. “You don’t think I’m still into Sean?” I ask in a squeak, realizing that she’s closer to the truth than I thought she was. After all, I shouldn’t be surprised; she’s not dumb, not even close.
     
    “Please,” she answers, pursing her