I turned the page. “I’m sure.”
“Fine, be boring,” she snapped, disappearing into her room.
Her jab lingered, though I knew the last thing I needed was to squeeze into an overcrowded room and scan it constantly for a beautiful man with ice blue eyes. Even worse, the potential for drunk texts. I ignored the slew he sent the morning after our hookup, demanding to talk. Demanding answers. There were things I didn’t know. Things I should explain.
But that meant facing him.
I wasn’t ready.
Hannah stomped through the living room, phone pressed to her ear, talking in a baby voice.Eric. She pointedly ignored me as she blew out of the dorm.
Alone at last, I tossed the textbook aside, grabbing my laptop and opening the internet page I hadn’t wanted her to see. Ollie didn’t have social media, but his name was unique enough to narrow down his hometown and high school.
He grew up so close to me. How had I never run into him? I scrolled through classmates' pictures in search of his familiar face. The few I found showed him lingering in the background, always alone with downcast eyes, curled in on himself. I struggled to connect that solemn, broken boy with the confident, assertive man I met. Those pictures and internet searches felt more intrusive than seeing him in my visions. None of it was given to me of his own volition.
She can manipulate emotions.
If what he said was true, his reactions to Miranda were nothing more than what she made him feel. They weren't genuine. But I couldn’t wipe the image of them two days ago by the smoke-spot.
I asked to get high.
Maybe that’s all it was, a hit to smother the pain I’d seen in his eyes. That didn’t mean I had to like it.
A knock at the door made me jump, my laptop sliding off my lap, tenting on the carpet. Hannah must’ve forgotten her key. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I hauled off the couch, opening the door-
It wasn’t Hannah.
“Your roommate shouldn’t give up your location so easily,” Ollie said, leaning in the door frame with arms crossed.
Fucking Hannah.
I hung onto the door.
He stared at me expectantly.
I stayed silent, staring back.
He sighed in exasperation. “You’ve been ignoring my texts, so it was either call a hundred times and risk you hanging up, or show up and demand you to talk to me,” He said as if either of those insane options were justifiable.
It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest.
“How about, you respect my choice not to get involved with someone who runs right back to the girl who slapped him across the face?”
He winced, running a hand through his hair, gripping the roots. “It’s not like that- I ran out of-” He clamped his mouth shut and exhaled out his nose. “Is that what you saw?” I refused to answer, looking over his shoulder into the empty hall. He sighed again. “I’m sorry, I promise it wasn’t like that. She owed me for that bullshit stunt she pulled, but it won’t happen again.”
“What makes you think you deserve another chance?” I asked.
He muttered something under his breath, running a hand through his hair again. “Woman, I’m really trying here, but you’re making this difficult.”
“As I should. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who helped me out of a bad relationship, you should know better than to put me back into a shitty situation. I’m being perfectly reasonable,” I retorted, surprised by how easy it was to express myself to him. The old knee-jerk reaction to mindlessly agree deteriorated along with any expectations of guilt trips or gaslighting when genuine regret softened his sharp features.
He shook his head, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry, really,” he murmured. “I don’t want to do this out here. Can I come in?”
I glanced over my shoulder at my laptop. At least the screen was hidden, and no one was here. I chewed the inside of my cheek as I mulled it over.
“Say please.”
His lips parted, face scrunching. His sudden disbelief was kind of cute, damnit. I blinked up at him, a mirror of his expectant glare earlier. He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing.
