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@mythicwitch

(Oh God, that sounds really break-uppy, doesn’t it? I promise it’s not)

@mythicwitch

I know you’ve given me a lot of chances already, and I’m sorry I’ve squandered them, but it’s because I didn’t realize it was you I was talking to. Please, please give me one last chance

@mythicwitch

Well, I’ll be at the cafe til closing, if you can make it, if you want to talk. Until the end x

@mythicwitch

(*Until eight o’clock – I don’t want to miss the last train home. Bloody Sunday schedules)

CHAPTER 34

Anissa was right to make me come back in; even with no reply from @runicrascal akaMax, I’m suitably distracted by all the rules that come with playing Catan, trying my best to keep up with Anissa, Andreas, Jake and Heather in this nerdier, more strategic version of Monopoly. Luckily, not too many people overheard the details of my entire heartfelt confession to Jake, but they caught enough so that now everybody knows I have, essentially,You’ve Got Mail-ed myself.

‘Classic miscommunication trope,’ Heather trills. ‘I love it.’

‘Yeah, I’d love it a lot more if I hadn’t made such an idiot of myself. You don’t see them confessing all to the wrong man in the movies, do you? Meg Ryan never had to go through this.’

From the next table over, Sam tells me, ‘Meg Ryanpicked the guy who put her mum’s bookstore out of business, kid, let’s not pretend she made only good decisions in that movie.’

Heather and I burst out laughing, while Jake asks Anissa what we’re talking about and who Meg Ryan is; she shrugs, none the wiser.

For the next hour, I manage to – if notforgetabout Max, at least not let him occupy my every thought. I throw myself into the meet-up, getting to know my Discord friends better, and even when I give up on Catan and swap to an even more complicated game about birdwatching, I’m having a great time.

Heartfelt confessions and world-changing realizations aside, itisa perfect day. It’s low-stakes, no-pressure, just as much in person as it always has been online, and it’s a refreshing change to not feel like I have to do or say the right thing, wear the right outfit, or play a part. I’ve been doing that less at college around the girls, but with them it’s more like unlearning a habit, disentangling myself from it; here, it’s something I relax into right from the off. I don’t worry about who they expect me to be, who I’m supposed to be.

I’m just … myself.

Wholly, unashamedly.

I play a blue counter, and pick up a new card, punchingthe air with a whoop. I slap it down on the board. ‘Yes! Take that Theresa, look who’s in the lead now!’

‘You can’t play that!’

‘She can,’ Fiona says, picking up the rulebook. ‘Look, if you …’

She trails off though, and while Theresa starts badgering her for an answer, Fiona nudges me, and I realize half the room has gone quiet – that someone’s just come in.

I stand, disrupting the gameboard. ‘Max.’

‘What’s she waiting for?’ Heather hisses from across the room, a bit too loudly.

Fiona scoots her chair out of my way as I scramble from my seat in the corner, and there arewaytoo many eyes on us. Max looks at them, then at me, and says, ‘Shall we …?’ while jerking his head over his shoulder. I nod, and follow him outside.

I’m not running away this time, though.

The drizzle has finally let up. The pavement shines with puddles and the sky is a dreary, grubby shade of grey overhead. It’s hardly the picture-perfect scene, but I think I’m starting to finally accept that real life doesn’t always work out that way.

For a moment, we face each other in silence, and it’s as tense and difficult as ever to find something, anything, to talk about.

But I have so much to say now, I’m not floundering about for something to break the silence; it’s onlyhowto say it, what to say first, and I draw a breath –

Max beats me to it.