Page 78 of The Truths We Burn

“That’s enough, guys. People are staring. We’re leaving.” Lizzy pulls harder on Mary, forcing her away from me and this heated situation.

They disappear to their side of the dining hall, and I’m left with this burning in my chest. This painful reminder that Rosie is gone, and everyone knows it. Everyone has accepted it except me.

I fall into the seat, dropping my head down and running my hands through my hair with aggravation.

What am I doing here?

I don’t belong here anymore, and that is very clear.There’s no way Silas or any of the other boys would hear me out long enough, let alone trust me.

My first day and this all feels pointless.It’s only showing me that the entire world had moved on while I’m stuck treading water.

“Well, that was fun.”

“Wonder when they’re going to get the memo that mean girls went out of style ten years ago.”

Briar—I think that’s her name—sits down across from me, and her dark-headed friend sits down next to her, both setting their food down in front of them as if they were invited.

One looks like a female version of a lumberjack in her plaid button-up and gray beanie covering her dirty-blonde hair while the other is giving me serious Coraline vibes. I’m not sure when wearing rain boots and bucket hats was a thing, but she’s killing it.

Both look like an odd pairing but so different in their own ways that they actually blend perfectly. They seem to balance each other out almost. The way good friends should.

I lift an eyebrow at them both. “Can I help you?” It comes off way harsher than I wanted, but a tiger can’t always change its stripes, and I’m even warier about people than I ever was before.

“Oh sorry, I’m Briar.” The lumberjack points at her chest. “The Hollow Boys’ whore.”

“And I’m Lyra, bug freak.” Her kinky curls bounce a little as she talks, and it makes me look at her face a little closer than before, now that the drama has calmed down.

“Wait, I know you. You’re Lyra Abbott, right? I think I had English with you junior year. You sat by the window?”

She nods. “You’ve actually had a lot of classes with me, but it’s fine. I’m surprised you remember that one. I don’t get noticed often.”

The way she says it isn’t sad; it’s just a fact. One that she has accepted.

I keep my words to myself, because the truth is, the only reason I noticed her in that English class was that I’d found out about what happened to her mother when she was a child.

My attention averts to Briar. “And you? Dating Alistair Caldwell? Are you incredibly brave or just naive?”

She isn’t from Ponderosa Springs. She’s probably aware of his history with his friends, but she wasn’t around while they were making it.

A part of her becomes defensive. I can see it in the way her shoulders tighten, and her jaw ticks a bit. The girl has fight, I can see it. She was unafraid to step in with Mary and Lizzy, their status not affecting her. And right now, she isn’t going to back down from defending her relationship.

Was that what made the infamous wrathful Alistair Caldwell fall? Or is there more to it?

She clicks her tongue, nodding a bit. “I’ve heard that a few times since moving here. The answer is neither. I just happened to find myself in his path and never left. Sometimes, you don’t know what you want until it’s right in front of you. He’s not like everyone says, not with me.”

“Yeah, that’s what—” I stop midsentence.

That’s what Rose tried to tell me about Silas. What I had learned about Rook.

If anyone understands what it’s like to fall for the things that linger in the dark, it’s me.

I look at them again as they start to eat their food, wondering just how much Briar knows about what Alistair is up to. If Lyra is involved at all. I’m so out of the loop that I have no way of knowing.

“Listen, I’m not really looking to make friends,” I say honestly, not needing to add friendship to my empty plate. I’d gotten used to how light it was without anything on it.

“We didn’t ask if you were looking,” Lyra speaks up. “You don’t fit into the spaces of Ponderosa Springs anymore. You fell from their standards, and now you’re one of the forgotten. But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. Loners need friends too.”

She’s right. I don’t fit anymore, and a piece of me hates to hear it out loud. But the other part of me knows I never belonged in the first place.