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“Hey, he’s still got to walk by,” I hiss, a hand on his chest even as butterflies take flight in my body. He makes me nervous, though not in a bad way. At least… I hope it’s not in a bad way.
Though, when I stop to think about it, and really examine things, my nerves feel different than just a crush. I feel—
Oliver sweeps in with a low snicker, pressing his lips to mine. He coaxes mine open, standing closer as he works his mouth down to the mark he’s left on my neck, and over his shoulder I see Professor Solomon pass without a look toward us, until he gets to the door of his office. Only then does he stop and turn, as if we’ve made some sound to alert him, and his eyes land directly on mine.
His gaze is unreadable, though I swear I see his eyes narrow just slightly. He hovers, standing there, when suddenly Oliver draws a gasp from me by biting down against my skin. Professor Solomon’s brows rise slightly; his mouth presses into a line as he watches me. WatchesOliverlick and nip at my skin while holding me against the wall.
I should stop him.Obviously we’re about to get into trouble, right? Professor Solomon is going to get us some kind of academic reprimand for inappropriate behavior in the near-empty arts building. And yet he just stands there, watching me, while Oliver’s hands slide up my sides as if somehow he, too, knows that we’re being watched. Heat climbs into my cheeks, surely staining my face brightly enough for him to see. Butterflies flutter against my ribs, their wings seeming to hammer against them as my fingers curl in Oliver’s hair.
I should stop him.
He looks toward the open doors of the visual arts department, blinking a few times as his lips turn down into a frown. Before I can say anything, even if I could say something, our professor disappears into his office and my hand grips Oliver’s hair tightly just as I see someone round the corner.
It’s Juniper.
She takes one look at my face, but she doesn’t just stand there and watch. She grimaces, a look of disappointment on her faceas she makes sure to shake her backpack to get our attention, as if she didn’t have mine already. “I got out of class early,” Jun says briskly. “I thought we’d go home together.”
Oliver sighs, resting his jaw against mine. His eyes flutter closed, and forjusta moment I see something that makes me nervous. He’s upset. Not at me, that much is clear. But when his eyes open, he’s looking back as well as he can without moving, and all of that frustration and dislike are directed at my roommate.
“O-okay,” I say, reaching out to grip his shirt. I’ve known for a little while now that he doesn’t like Jun, and that the feeling is mutual. But I’ve never seen him look at anyone like this, let alone my roommate.
It melts off of him a second later, however, and Oliver straightens with a light laugh as he runs his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, flashing her a bright smile. “I’m really sorry, Jun.”
“Juniper,” she corrects automatically, her dark stare fixed on his. “I don’t know why you’re sorry.” She tilts her head when she says it, like a question, even though it wasn’t phrased like one. With her thin lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed, it’s obvious to anyone in a ten mile radius that she’s not happy.
“Juniper…” I sigh, stepping around him even when his hand tightens on my arm like he doesn’t want to let me go. “It’s fine. We got carried away, but like I told you the other night, it’s really fine.” She doesn’t look like she believes me, and Oliver sighs again.
“It’s okay,” he says, in a voice that tells me it’snotokay that some girl four years younger than him is trying to boss him around. “I need to go talk to Professor Solomon about something, anyway.” He flashes me a quick smile and leans in to kiss me on the cheek, his gaze fixed on Jun the entire time. “Seeyou later today?” he asks quietly, and I give him a nod, hoping Jun hadn’t heard.
“Bye, Juniper,” he says, much too sharply, as he pushes past her to stride across the room. His shoulders are set, back straight, and by the time he’s closed our professor’s door behind him, it’s obvious how irritated he is.
But Juniper only rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest. “You’re getting a lecture,” she promises, as I fall into step with her towards the parking lot.
“You came here to make a scene,” I point out, some bit of frustration churning in my chest and pushing out the anxiety at Oliver’s reactions. I glance up through the small window of the office door, but I’m unable to see more than Oliver’s back as he sits down in a chair. “There’s nothing wrong with me liking him, Jun. Nothing wrong at all.”
“Yeah?” she asks quietly, reaching out and gripping my hand when we’re safely outside. “Then why did he look so upset?”
She’d noticed it too. I shake my head though, frowning. “He looked upset because you’re treating him like a child. He’s an adult, and so am I. He likes me, and I really like him.”
She searches my gaze, her shoulders falling. “Can you please just be safe?” she asks, squeezing my hand supportively. “I don’t want to upset you, and I don’t want to ruin something for you. But Blair…” she trails off, looking back at the door we’d just come out of.
“What?” I ask, somehow wanting her to say something that would confirm the way I feel about his reaction today.
“I don’t know. I guess just be careful. Don’t let him hurt you, or I’ll have to kill him.” She grins, breaking the tension, and I reach out to hug my best friend around her shoulders.
“God.” I sigh burying my face against her shoulder. “Our professor fuckingsaw us, Jun. He saw us making out in the hallway right before you came up.”
“Fuck.” She laughs, gripping my arms as the rest of the tension leaves her. “You must have been so embarrassed.”
“…Yeah,” I agree, belatedly realizing that I hadn’t felt any embarrassment at all. “Yeah, I was really embarrassed. I’m surprised he didn’t try to suspend me, or kick me out of college or something.”
It isn’t until later,when I’m sitting in bed on the phone with Oliver after his stream, that a news header flashes up on my laptop. With the show on silent while I’m having a conversation, it takes me a moment to read the words that pop up on screen.
College student found dead on Wicket University grounds.
“Oliver, hey. Hold on a second,” I interrupt, dragging my laptop into my lap. “This is wild. I don’t know…” I trail off, turning up the volume as the special report kicks in.
“What’s wrong?”Oliver asks, concern etched in his voice. “Are you okay?”
