#colinnash

Jules gasped, seeing a familiar shape in front of the couch. She tried to duck and hide, but it wasn’t very effective, since in her efforts to escape Jackie’s watchful eye she’d blended into a group of people. Figuring it was better to go and face it head-on, she popped up from her semi-crouching position abruptly. It was so quick she accidentally threw her balance off enough to lean heavily into the very person she was attempting to avoid, having to hang off of his collar to keep herself from toppling. “Whoops! Oh my god. Sorry, Colin. I promise, I’m more sober than I look.” Jules patted his chest before putting herself upright again. She hadn’t even been drinking since the dance, but she had way less of a tolerance for it than most people. “But you could change that with a party game. Wink wink, nudge nudge.”

“Okay, so --- the UK can take harvest exports from Finland in exchange for healthcare resources, jobs will be a fifty-fifty split on the new bullet train from France to Spain, and Italy will donate military aid to surrounding countries in exchange for commerce. Sound good?” She didn’t like it any more than he did, but they had to work together if they were ever going to break any ground on this project. They’d been putting it off for most of the semester (very, very unlike her -- in fact, she’d done most of the outline already separately) ever since being assigned as a pair, until a few weeks ago when things weren’t so awkward. They’d met up a few times to go over the presentation, but now, they were awkward again, and the deadline was alarmingly close. It simply couldn’t be put off any more.

Jules stood nervously at the door of the Nash residence, hoping it would be Colin answering and not his dad. Partly because that’s who she came to see, but also partly because Harold Nash was the worst. She’d already sent Colin a text, but if she waited there any longer she might actually have to knock. 

She hadn’t been out here very often much lately -- nighttime just didn’t feel as calming as it used to. Even in her safe space with the stables just beyond the pond, a large oak tree towering over her and her back to its trunk. It felt eerie. Wrong, somehow, like maybe she was witnessing it in a dream and the colors were off, reflections in the water distorted. The only giveaway to reality was her hands touching the pages of the book in front of her, fingers flipping the corners in time with her thoughts. Only for the sake of fidgeting, really. She’d already memorized this whole chapter, but it was better than hearing herself think.