“So,” he says, with an expectant voice. “Tears. What for? Do I have to fight them?”
I shake my head and smile.
“No, sorry. Just… overwhelmed with class, I guess. I failed an anth test, which is kind of an issue, because…”
“Because that’s your major. Right. Well, did you study?”
I blush. We walk past a few of the buildings that I’ve never really seen before, then get close to the brand new dorm building. The fancy glittery one that was put in last year, the one that my parents demanded I live in. The one I refused to live in.
“I mean, yeah, a little. I just must not’ve studied hard enough. Sorry to be all mopey and crying,” I reply. The University Hall towers next to us, casting a presence over our walk, if not a shadow. He leads us in between some buildings at an angle towards the tower. I raise an eyebrow at him. This isn’t our normal route. He shrugs back at me.
“There are like, resources on campus and stuff to help out with studying, you know.” He observes me as we round the corner, making our way to the park section of campus. It’s pretty in the spring, boring in the summer, cute in the fall, and soggy in the winter. There isn’t much lighting here beyond what’s coming from the University Hall and the steady hum of streetlights on the other side of the empty buildings we just passed. “But, that’s not really why you were crying. You got a D on a test the other week and you went out and partied.”
“Uh, yeah, to soak up the pain. Duh.”
“Dude. Walks are sacred. We don’t lie to each other on walks.”
“Right. Sorry. I guess I kinda miss my family, too. You know, after they showed up a day late to New Year’s Eve. And then talked the whole time about business and how they really think I should consider working for them after I graduate because it would be good for me financially. And when I told them about how much I really want to do field work and help people, they reminded me of how bad my grades are. So…”
“Now, I’m not trying to be an ass--”
“Oh, boy, here it comes…”
“I’m not trying to be an ass, but if they’re so neglectful of you, why do you miss them?”
I can see our destination now: the awkward architecture of the “Rat Maze” as I call it. A bunch of lecture halls and labs all crammed up in the most confusing building I’ve ever been in.
“I think I miss the way things were when I was little, like when they’d bring me to work and stuff and I thought that it was fun, not just miserable. Like, you know, the feeling of Christmas?” I grasp at open air with my gloved hands.
“Oh. Yeah, I get that. It’s kinda funny you bring that up, ‘cause I’ve kinda been feeling like that recently. Like I just walked downstairs and found mom and dad and not Santa. Just, in life. Things don’t hit like they used to, I guess. Are you feeling the same way? I was wondering if it’s just me or not. Not to get all depressing.”
We climb up the stairs of the Rat Maze and reach the top a few moments later. I’m quiet the whole time, trying to contemplate what I’m going to say back to that fucking question. Is he depressed? Do I feel the same way? I guess? I miss Maggie. I miss Cal. I miss Rose. I even kinda miss Derek. I miss everyone else from high school, too. They were good friends. And I was thinking for a while that my friends here weren’t quite as good as the ones I had then, but… That’s not even true. Because I have Syd, and Mel, and Jayde, and Ali, and… Jax, and I have Noah. I sort of want to tell him that. No, I don’t feel like the world is sad and gray, mostly because I have you in it to make me look forward to things. But that isn’t… I mean… He’s upset.
“Liam?” he asks, sitting down on the concrete sculpture that rounds off this “roof.” There are doors to enter the building behind us; we aren’t doing anything bad or illegal. I sit down next to him, close enough that our knees brush. He pulls his away, though subtly. I still notice.
“Sorry. Uh, I guess I kinda felt that way for a little bit, but then you and I got closer, and I don’t know, you kinda make me feel like everything’s gonna be okay. Is that dumb?”
He smiles at me, and blood moves around my body.
“Well, thinking about it like that, I sort of feel similar. I’ve got all my boys, I’ve got so many friends, I’ve got Sofia… And I’ve got you. I miss my family. A lot. I miss my sister. But having a roommate this year, despite the fact that I was not supposed to have a damn roommate this year, has been one of the best parts of living in the dorms. It’s nice to have someone to come home to. Especially someone so…” He bumps my arm with his elbow and looks over at me. His eyes get caught on mine, then he turns away and clears his throat. “Uh, so rambunctious and annoying to keep me on my toes.” He bumps me again with just a little more force to emphasize the fact that it’s a bro-move. Right. “Anyways, I’m sorry. Back to unpacking your trauma.”
“Oh, I mean, that’s really it. I just was kind of laying there and wallowing. I wasn’t expecting you to get back when you did.”
“Do you ever talk to them about the way they make you feel?”
“I have, yeah. They tell me they’ll change, but they don’t. They usually just offer to buy me a car and I turn them down and they act like it’s my fault that I feel neglected because I don’t take them up on buying my love.”
“A car, huh? That kinda sounds like an all-day experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, like, a day out with your parents to pick out a car.”
“Nah, they’d just mail me a Bugatti or something and pretend like that would replace years of not spending any time with me.”
“Are you sure? Maybe they really just-”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
He lays back on the concrete, looking up at the blank sky. There aren’t any stars up there, just a few passing clouds and the blurry glow of the moon. I pat his knee and stand up, ready to go. I don’t think I have much more to say tonight. I anticipate a walk home in silence.
But then he doesn’t move. I give him a second to get up, but he stays there.
I resign myself to sitting back down next to him, then wait another moment, watching him expectantly to get up. But he’s comfortable and content here, and eventually, I lay down next to him to look up at the frankly boring air above us. He turns to face me.
“Hi.”
“‘Sup,” I reply.
“It’s nice to be outside of the room to talk for once. Feels private here.”
“Our dorm doesn’t feel private?” I don’t let him know what his desire to have a private space with me does to my insides. Nor what I want him to do to my insides.
“I mean, it does. But it’s like, every five minutes, someone comes to knock. It’s fine but also kind of annoying. I like just getting to talk to you privately like this. I feel like it’s the only time that you really open up to me. You know? I like when you open up to me. You’re… You make it look like you’re open and free and stuff, but the truth is you’re actually really reserved. And you’re vulnerable with me, and it’s just… the best feeling in the world, I think. Is that weird? Your trust makes me feel good. Damn, words don’t exist out of my mouth right now, huh?”
“You’re a poet, Noey.”
“That!” he shouts, bolting upright. “When you call Noey! You don’t have a nickname for anyone else. No one else calls me Noey. I don’t know. It’s just like, really nice. So, open up to me, dammit! Tell me your secrets.” He laughs and pokes me in the arm and lays back down next to me.
“I don’t have anything to open up about,” I tell him, feeling way more defensive than I mean to. I mean, I am sort of lying. But still.
“Sure you do. What’s going on with that guy in your anth class? Maybe he could--” He pokes me to emphasize each of his following syllables. “--help. You. Study?”
“He’s just a friend.”
“That I caught you fucking.”
“Well, that was just because… Uh…”
“Because what?”
“It wasn’t good. We’re just friends.”
“Aww, but he’s cute. I think maybe you’re just in denial.”
“Dude. Noah. I’m not into him.”
He turns to face me again and gives me a pouty lip. I turn to look at him and raise an eyebrow.
“Call me Noey?”
I roll my eyes and face the sky again, because I don’t trust myself to not lean in and kiss him.
“Fine. Noey. I’m not into him.”
“Are you into somebody?”
“Yeah…”
“Whooooo? Tell me. Tell me. I’m your best friend, right?”
“Yeah. You kind of are my best friend.”
“Just kind of? I’ll tell you who I like if you tell me who you like.”
“You’re in a relationship, Noey. I know who you like.”
“Yeah. Well. Uh. I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“I’m not telling you who I have feelings for.”
“Come on. What could it harm?”
“I’m not telling you anything. Sorry, Noey.”
He shakes his head, his hair scratching against the concrete, and the wind whistles above us. It’s kinda chilly now. Or, maybe I just feel it again. The sky is nice above us. I can see just the slightest hint of stars twinkling. We lay there for a few more minutes and neither of us say anything. I can hear his breathing go soft, like he’s starting to relax. And something clicks.
“It’s you. I’m into you,” I say.
“What?”
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