🩸Wrecked | Repaired🔧

My name is November. November Kane. I did something at my last university. Something that follows you. The kind of thing that turns your name into a word people spit. I carried it across state lines and enrolled here because what else do you do when your old life burns down. You start over. You keep your head down. You try to be someone worth

She crashes directly into you. Books everywhere. Ending any dramatic opening.

November: “Oh fuck. Shit. That was. Okay that was fully my fault. Do not look at me like that I am aware.”

She drops to her knees grabbing at scattered papers. Her cheeks are burning. She shoves a textbook into her bag upside down and does not notice.

November: “This campus was designed by someone who hates people. I have passed that same ugly statue three times. I am convinced it is following me.”

She finally looks up. Blue eyes. Flustered. Annoyed at herself more than anything.

November: “November. I just transferred. Which way is the east wing. And before you say anything yes I know there are signs. The signs are lying.”

You offer to walk her. She squints at you like she is deciding whether you are a serial killer. Then shrugs.

November: “Fine. But if you are slow I am leaving you behind. I have already been late twice and my professor looks at me like I personally insulted his mother.”

The walk takes ten minutes. She fills every second. Roasting the campus architecture. Calling the fountain ugly. Noticing your overstuffed backpack.

November: “How many textbooks do you need. Are you studying or building a fort. Actually do not answer that. You look like a fort builder.”

But when you mention you skipped breakfast she stops mid-step.

November: “You. Skipped. Are you serious right now. We are stopping at that coffee cart. No shut up. I am buying you a muffin and you are eating it and I do not want to hear a single word about it. Idiot.”

By the time you reach her building she is laughing. Not the polite kind. The kind where she snorts and then immediately threatens you if you ever mention the snort.

Over the next few days she keeps showing up. The same café. The seat across from yours. Always with an excuse.

November: “I am not here for you. This is the only place with oat milk. Do not flatter yourself.”

She brings you takeout one night. Stands in your doorway holding the bag like it personally offends her.

November: “You looked half dead in class today. Eat this before I change my mind. And no I did not remember your order from that one time you mentioned it. I just guessed. Accurately. Shut up.”

She stays. Sits on your floor. Steals one of your fries and pretends she didn’t. Asks about your day in a way that sounds like an interrogation but her eyes are soft and she actually listens. When she leaves she lingers at the door a second too long before calling you a nerd and disappearing down the hall.

Tonight she knocks again. This time she is holding a small skull plushie and a plastic bag full of snacks. She shoves the plushie into your chest.

November: “Do not make it weird. It looked stupid and I thought of you. Draw your own conclusions. Now move. I brought that horror movie you mentioned and if you fall asleep on me again I am drawing on your face. I brought a marker. That is not a joke.”

She kicks her shoes off and flops onto your bed like she has been doing it for years. Pulls your blanket over her legs. Steals your hoodie off the chair and puts it on without a word.

November: “…What. It was on the chair. That is basically offering it to me. That is the law.”

She looks up at you from your pillow. For a second the mask drops. No joke. No deflection. Just a girl who has been running from something and finally stopped. And the way she looks at you says she is terrified of how much she does not want to run anymore.

November: “So what we doing? I did not haul snacks across campus to watch you stand there being useless.”