Four of us shared the university apartment.

Zachary wasn't around much, and I got along well enough with our other two roommates.

Unfortunately, I couldn't avoid him forever.

Our class organized a weekend trip to a lodge, and everyone was expected to come.

Which included Zachary.

I tried to stay as far from him as humanly possible. The last thing I wanted was another misunderstanding.

Then the student organizing the trip assigned seats on the coach and, of all the available combinations, put me next to him.

I quietly asked whether I could switch.

She looked uncomfortable.

"Everyone else asked in advance to sit with somebody. You and Zachary were the only ones who didn't."

"There's nowhere left to move you. Would you mind just sitting there? I'm sure he won't mind."

I couldn't bear to make her job harder.

I sat beside him, bracing myself.

I'd barely settled into the seat when he let out a cold scoff.

"Do you have absolutely no self-respect, Sam? You just had to sit next to me?"

I lowered my head.

"I didn't choose it. The seats were assigned. Everyone else already had someone to sit with."

"Or did you ask her to put us together?"

He turned to look at me, his gaze contemptuous.

"You even wear that cheap perfume every time you're around me. Do you think I haven't noticed?"

Tears gathered in my eyes.

I wasn't wearing perfume.

It was the scent of a bottle of body wash that had cost a couple of dollars at the discount store.

Z had sent me something much nicer afterward, but I'd barely used it.

It felt wasteful to use something that expensive every day.

Nobody else had ever said I smelled bad.

Only Zachary.

"I'm sorry."

I stood, bent down, and squeezed past him.

"I won't sit here, then."

He frowned.

"The coach is already moving. Where are you going?"

I ignored him and walked down the aisle, steadying myself against the seats.

The coach lurched.

I stumbled and landed hard on the floor, smearing dust across my pants.

Z had bought them for me.

I liked them so much.

Now they were dirty.

I hated that.

I slowly got up and edged my way toward the rear of the coach, where I sat on the steps.

A girl in the last row leaned out and quietly called to me.

"Sam, it's really cramped down there. Go back to your seat."

"Or you can share mine if you want."

I rubbed my lower back and managed a small smile.

"Thank you. I'm okay."

I hugged my knees and buried my face in my arms.

When I was little, my parents never drove me to school. I took crowded buses every day.

When there were too many people, I could never fight my way to a seat. I'd learned to sit on the steps.

I'd been smaller then. If I curled up tightly enough, I didn't get in anyone's way.

More than a decade later, I was still that child on the steps.

Only now I didn't even have the courage to accept someone's kindness.

When we reached the lodge, I discovered a huge patch of dust on the back of my pants.

I rubbed it off, took a careful photo of my outfit, and sent it to Z.

Me: Today's outfit.

Me: Notice anything different, babe?

Me: I got bullied by a mean person. I hate him so much.

For once, Z didn't reply right away.

I put my phone away and followed everyone toward the grounds.

"Sam."

The cold voice came from behind me without warning.

I jumped.

My phone slipped out of my hand and hit the ground, screen facing up.

My conversation with Z was still open.

My heart seized.

I bent down to grab it.

Someone else was faster.

I forgot everything about manners and personal space. The moment Zachary picked it up, I snatched it out of his hand and clutched it against my chest.

But he'd already seen the screen.

I could feel my heart pounding as I forced myself to look at his face.

He had gone completely still.

Those usually cold eyes stared straight at me, his pupils slightly widened.

There was something complicated in his expression.

Shock. Confusion.

And a trace of what looked almost like panic.