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Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath, and walked towards where he was sitting.
"Hey," she said, nodding to Caleb's friends. She tried for a meek smile but only managed to lift half of her lips up, resulting in a strange and totally awkward grimace. "I um--"
"Wait a second," said Patrick, leaning back in the booth. He laced his arms behind his head and openly stared at her. "Weren't you the girl who passed out this morning? In Gov?"
Something inside her roared in protest at this, threatening to overtake her control and assume charge from there. The tips of Angela's fingers tingled and her hands twitched, as if itching to punch Patrick in the face. But she swallowed and forced the feeling down, pressing it as far back in her mind as possible.
"Listen," she said, making herself look at Caleb. He had his gaze lowered, pinpointed on the cup of coffee in front of him instead, but Angela stood her ground with a surprising firmness she had no idea she possessed. She pressed her lips together. "Can I talk to you? In private?"
And that was definitely stretching it a little. She'd barely known Caleb for a month, which meant she had no right to ask him to speak with her in a private area. She knew this just by the looks on his friends' faces and she mentally cringed at it. But she didn't have a choice. It seemed like there was something going on with Caleb, a connection between him and the violent feelings she has been experiencing...and, at least, it was something he understood better than her.
At that point Angela snuck a look to her side, her eyes searching for her friends. They were still grouped beside the counter, with Macy leaning across flirting shamelessly with the cashier, who must be at least a freshman in college. It surprised her that they were still there, but she was immensely grateful regardless. No matter what strange events happened to Angela, it was comforting (though surprising) to know that her friends would still be with her.
"Come on, man," said Patrick, shaking his head. "Don't go anywhere with her. Let's just get out of here."
She glanced at him and her teeth gnashed together. Honestly? She didn't understand why she had to put up with this, with any of this. If Caleb had wanted to help her--which he obviously did or else she would not be alive in the first place--then he would come to her. And so far, he hasn't. If anything, she should be the one waiting on him. It shouldn't be the other way around.
As if hearing these thoughts Caleb finally looked up, and when his gaze met Angela's, he smiled faintly.
"No, it's fine. I'll hear what she has to say."
Patrick seemed taken aback, a look on his face that matched the stupidity in his brain. Angela pressed a hand to her mouth, hiding her smile and feeling oddly triumphant. She watched as Caleb's friends got up, one by one approaching the door, each muttering excuses and disloyal comments that Angela was proud to realize her own friends have never uttered. When all of them had left she turned to face Caleb, suddenly unsure of herself again.
"Um," she began, but he only shook his head, gesturing to the small hallway next to the bathroom. "I thought we were going somewhere private?"
Angela exhaled. "Yeah," she said. "Right."