Page 25 of His Secret Obsession

“Hell yeah, of course! I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

*

As my mid-term assignments pile up, Cleo and I see each other every day. Mostly we study together at the university or the state library, but we also go out to eat often and watch movies at my place, which results in making out on the couch.

Lucas has walked in on us kissing a few times. Cleo’s never looked embarrassed though — she keeps trying to be nice to Lucas even though he always ignores her.

I invite Cleo to Gilly’s party, and she accepts when she recognises the name of the restaurant where it will be hosted. I assure her that everyone else will be much nicer than Lucas, but she just laughs and says he doesn’t bother her.

While I spend a lot of time with Cleo, I don’t actually know much about her life. I’ve never met any of her friends, and there’s no hint of me on her social media, not that I expect there to be. It’s not like I want her to write “Charlie <3” in her bio like we’re thirteen years old.

I haven’t ever visited her home either. She said it’s because she lives with her parents in a faraway suburb and going over with her would be both a waste of time and awkward. Maybe later, she tells me.

It’s fine. I don’t mind, not really. There’s just something about the whole thing that picks at me when I’m lying in bed at night, trying to fall asleep.

Anyway, today, we’re sitting at a desk in the state library. The room has a high ceiling and is filled with white light, and we’re surrounded by several other young people working on their shiny silver laptops. Some of them murmur to each other, so I don’t feel bad about talking.

I lean over to look at her computer, where she’s researching the market share of different cosmetic brands. “What’s your assignment about?”

“I have to come up with a marketing plan for a brand of my choice. It’s two thousand words, and I’m still in the research stage.” She sighs.

“Damn,” I say.

“Yeah. Now, leave me alone, I have to focus.” She shoos me away, and I look at my computer screen.

I start reading a scientific paper explaining that lonely people are more likely to have a shorter life span, which is depressing as hell, when my phone buzzes with a text.

Lucas: Yo. You coming to volleyball today?

Oh shit. I forgot that was on today.

Charlie: Sorry, busy studying with Cleo.

Lucas: You’ve missed the past two weeks.

I look at my screen incredulously.

Charlie: Ok. It’s not like it makes a difference to you whether I’m there or not. We’re not even in the same groups.

I watch the text bubble that pops up as he writes a response. It disappears, then comes back again. What’s got him taking so long?

Finally, he texts back.

Lucas: I’m only pointing it out because you look so skinny. Better gain some muscle or Clarice is gonna dump your ass.

Asshole! I drop my phone on my desk. Cleo glances over before continuing her work.

That’s right. I should focus on studying, not Lucas. I stare at my laptop screen, but I’m not seeing any of the words. Instead, Lucas’s face floats into my mind. It’s high school Lucas — he’s wearing our high school uniform, and he’s laughing nastily at me.

I always ignored him. I thought that would make him leave me alone, but it did the opposite — he’d just keep taunting me until I lost it.

I snatch the phone up again.

Charlie: Why are you commenting on my body? Careful because otherwise you’ll sound weirdly fixated. And I know you know my girlfriend’s name. Have you resorted to searching up names on the internet to keep up your charade of ignorance? Because that’s pathetic.

Lucas: Lol.

Lucas: You’re so delusional, it’s actually embarrassing.

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