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“So . . .” He rocked a bit, still sitting on the ground and looking up at her. “What have you been up to?”

Nell blinked, staring at him.

Was he mocking her? It wouldn’t be the first time someone approached with that question just to turn it on her and bring up painful memories.

Every time someone asked her that, she wanted to get up and walk out of the room, but Barrett didn’t look vicious.

He leaned leisurely against the couch cushions, with one knee bent up so his hand could rest on it.

That hand tapped ringed fingers on his kneecap, and he bit his lip as he waited for an answer.

He wasn’t mocking her. He was just filling the silence.

Amused, she bit the inside of her cheek. “You don’t need to force yourself to make small talk.”

His head fell back against the cushion, and he released a long exhale. “Thank god. I hate doing that shit.” He chuckled, with his head back, and ran a hand through his long, wavy hair.

Nell’s eyes widened in surprise. That was not the response she’d expected. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not. “I thought you liked talking to people.”

“Oh, I do. But I hate small talk.” He shivered like the thought of small talk was reaching out and running its claws over his skin. “Talk to me about Judas Priest or Slayer, and I’ve got the conversation covered, but try to bring up the weather or my plans for the day, and I’d rather choke.”

His manner of speaking took her aback. It was so abrupt and unfiltered—a contrast to the soft evasions and gentle corrections her parents used to handle her like a delicate piece of expensive china. Yet it was sweeter than the occasional words thrown from the corners of strangers’ mouths.

Just right . Like Goldilocks in the house of the three bears. Nell’s own happy medium.

Her lips itched, then rose to show her teeth in a grin and a soft laugh. She took another drag for the joint, and it joined Barrett’s demeanor on the list of things that wrapped her veins in a warm blanket and made her ease into the feeling.

Through her hazy exhale, he startled at the sound of her laugh, his mouth sat agape. And his eyes …

She wasn’t sure how to describe it, but they sparkled . Wide and expressive, the chocolate brown glimmered like the flicking of a coin in the sun.

Instead of asking him why he looked at her like that, she asked, “What is Slayer anyway? Sounds scary.”

He blinked, and his expression changed—still excited but different.

He jolted at the mention of it like he’d been struck by lightning and leaned forward.

“Are you telling me I’m about the introduce you to the musical genius that is Slayer?

” He jumped to his feet and left her alone in the living room.

Few minutes later, he was back with vinyls and tapes delicately balanced in his arms. “You have so much to learn. But don’t worry, I’ve got the time. ”

Nell spread her legs onto the couch, feeling more at home than she had in a long while, and let Barrett take the lead.

* * *

“How long has it been?” Nell asked, searching the room for a clock. There was one on the wall, but she couldn’t even remember what time she’d gotten to Barrett’s place.

She was sitting on the ground too now, looking over the different vinyl covers and posters Barrett had gathered to share with her.

They were nearly shoulder to shoulder, and she turned over Iron Maiden’s Somewhere in Time album to take in the extensive and impressive art on the cover.

Admittedly, the music wasn’t her style, which she’d told him.

He hadn’t taken offense to it, though. He’d told her there was bound to be something she would like and he’d just make her sit here until they found it.

“About thirty minutes,” he said, and got up to turn over the record that had played to the end.

It’d felt longer or maybe shorter; she wasn’t sure which. She frowned and pouted at the back of Barrett’s messy hair. “Are you sure you gave me weed? I barely feel any different.”

He looked at her over his shoulder, a dopey smile on his face. He’d only stolen a huff or two from her joint, claiming that he had to keep an eye on her so he needed to stay mostly sober. She’d thought that was sweet.

“Are you sure about that?”

For some reason, she could just tell he didn’t believe her. “Yes. What? You think I’m lying about it?” She giggled. She wasn’t much of a liar. Plus, why would she lie about it? She just wanted to get her money’s worth.

“I dunno.” He sat back down as another song started.

She bobbed her head along with it, even though its harsh, upbeat drums weren’t her favorite.

“You sure are acting different than when you first got here.”

The head bobbing stopped, and she pondered his words. She did feel lighter, she guessed. Though she attributed that to the angry music and crazy man. “Am I?”

“You’re talking your jaw off, you’re relaxed, and you’ve eaten an entire bag of Doritos on your own.” He gestured to an empty bag. “Plus, you’ve been laughing. Do you do that a lot?”

She sucked in a harsh breath and studied him. So unsuspecting, this guy. How could he tell she didn’t laugh anymore?

But now that he’d pointed it out, he was right. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time.

She felt like herself.

Like the old her. The one she missed. The one she thought she’d lost.

Her response was an elated, clear-as-a-summer-morning laugh into the air above her. This was the best thing she’d done in ages. The drugs had snuck their way into her and brought back a fleck of life, wrapping her in unfamiliar but welcoming arms that hid her from the truth outside.

“You’re right.” She grinned at him and took brief note of his glittering-coin eyes once again. “I feel so much better.”