“Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

I heard Smith’s whining voice. He had been the first to reach the professor’s assistant and now looked pretty unhappy about letting go of his catch to the horde of students pushing behind him.

For all I cared, he could stay there and bombard the assistant with questions. I didn’t care about that stupid game.

“Benjamin?” he called again when I didn’t show any signs of slowing down, and the next second, he was practically breathing down my neck. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to solve the exercise?”

“Not particularly.”

“But Professor Caldwell said we have to work in groups! You can’t leave me alone.”

There was an entire fleet of eager students ready to tackle that stupid riddle; Smith could easily find another victim for his group project.

I continued down the stairs.

...

I could walk around campus without having to announce my every move to my mother, without having to be on high alert at every motorcycle sound. For the first time in my life, I was completely free, yet a certain unease followed me that I couldn’t quite explain.

An unease by the name of Jeremiah Smith.

“I hope you realize what three extra points mean in the toughest exam of the first semester.”

That guy was worse than a tick. I had found a nice patch of green grass to lie on and feel the sun prickling my skin, and that damn frog had decided to park himself beside me, croaking in my ear.

“You’re free to solve the puzzle on your own and rack up the points for me too.”

Smith huffed in disbelief. “Without you lifting a finger? I’d rather fail the exam.”

“Wow, bet you’re full of friends.”

“You don’t seem to be in a position to judge. I haven’t seen anyone rushing to talk to you,” he replied, a tinge of acidity in his voice.

He could have annoyed me; he might have even hit a nerve, but I decided I didn’t care.

I pushed myself into a near-sitting position and peered at him through my sunglasses. “I just don’t know anyone on this side of the coast. Give me a few weeks, and I’ll have gone out with half the campus.”

“Gone out?” His head tilted slightly, with that strange, rigid way he had of moving. “I thought you’d never been in a relationship.”

I smiled. “Then it’s time to start.” From the backpack where I should have stashed books I hadn’t bought yet, I pulled out a flier for the upcoming student party. Smith looked at it. I couldn't see his expression well, but I had the impression that he was looking too happy.

“Don’t make that face. There’ll be food, people, maybe even some alcohol. You’re not planning on spending college in isolation, are you?”

“I’m planning to spend college acing exams and getting a degree.”

Oh my god. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. Just because you already have a boyfriend doesn’t mean we all have to suffer through loneliness.”

Jeremy shrugged. “You’re free to go to that party and all the ones after. I’ll be in our room organizing notes.” With that, he stood up fluidly, completely at odds with his usual robotic stiffness, and started heading towards our dorm.

I scrambled to my feet almost unconsciously. That party was the only thing I felt even a hint of excitement for, but the thought of stepping through that door alone already made me imagine the judgmental stares of dozens of petty post-adolescents.

“Hey, come on! You don’t abandon friends like that.”

“We’re friends now?” He didn’t even turn, just kept walking, and I had to hurry to keep up.

“We’re… unpleasant acquaintances? Hey, hey! Slow down!” I ran ahead and blocked his path.

He sighed and tried to sidestep me, but I jabbed a finger at his chest and smirked. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll call your boyfriend and tell him you kissed me!”

In my defense, it was pretty obvious I was joking, yet -despite the blinding sun- I saw all the color drain from his face, and his eyes fill with panic.

Then, his expression changed. Rapidly.

By that point in my life, I’d pissed off enough people to reliably recognize the look of someone about to beat the crap out of me.

Jeremy moved in a flash. He grabbed my arms with both hands, and without losing that murderous look, he shoved me roughly aside and kept walking.

“Wow.” He wasn’t exactly imposing, but from the way his arms bulged, I guessed he was pretty well-built. “I was joking, you know.” I followed him.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t say a word until we reached our building, until we reached our door, and until he shut it behind us.

But the first thing he said wasn’t to me—it was to the microphone of his phone. He sat cross-legged on his bed, phone to his ear.

I couldn’t give him much privacy, poor guy, so I stayed at my desk, eavesdropping on the entire conversation.

“I’m fine, I just wanted to hear your voice... Stop it, I said I’m fine.” The stern sound of his voice softened slowly. “I miss you so much. And me? Do you miss me?”

It was only then that I realized the whole conversation would stay in that nauseating tone, so I turned away to hide a small gag and grabbed my own phone.

I was feeling a ridiculous urge to call someone, and then I felt like laughing. Call who?

I opened my recent calls. It was a blurred cloud of bright pixels, but I knew the only number listed for the past few months was my mother’s.

I’d been at college for several days, and she still hadn’t called. By the end of the third day, I’d sent her an ironic goodnight text just to let her know I was still alive, but she hadn’t replied.

That was suspicious.

Or maybe she was just enjoying her first week of freedom since I entered her life. 

I stood staring at my call log for five minutes. Call? Don’t call.

Slowly, Jeremy’s voice faded into the background, replaced almost immediately by the annoying beep of his watch. It beeped twice a day, always at the same time.

I pretended not to notice as Jeremy tossed the phone onto his bed and stood up, reached into his drawer, and pulled out a small vial.

Hypertension? It was clear that Smith was quite the nervous wreck.

Jeremy turned his head just enough to see if I was watching, which I was.

I turned away, only to find my phone screen in front of me again.

To hell with it.

I pressed on the number and listened to the dial tone.

If there’s one thing more pathetic than calling your mom at college because you feel lonely, it’s calling your mom at college because you feel lonely, and she doesn’t pick up.

I waited for more than a minute.

I had almost resigned myself to the fact that she wouldn’t answer when the tone cut off.

“My love.” Her voice greeted me, leaving me speechless.

There was nothing strange about her calling me "my love", she did it all the time; but the intensity with which she said it was strange.

“Mum. Is everything okay?” I asked cautiously.

“Everything’s fine. Sorry, I don’t have much time.”

“Ah... why?”

“I have a lot to do, sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I-”

And the call ended. I stared at the blurred screen, blinking repeatedly. I tried calling her back, but now her phone was off.

“What the...?”

I barely had time to process my confusion when Jeremy startled me by placing himself so close to my chair that he blocked the light from the lamps.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Ben. We don’t have to be friends. But trust me, you don’t want me as an enemy.”

“Really? Why not?” It wasn’t a very smart answer, but his sudden outburst caught me off guard.

“Because I know how to be cruel. I know how to observe people and find out how to hurt them. And you are surprisingly easy to hurt.”

Suddenly, I didn’t feel like joking anymore. “You have no idea who I am.”

“I know that you’re so insecure that you don’t want to reveal your disability to the student committee. I know that no one from your hometown has bothered to reach out to you, probably because of that delightful personality of yours. And I know that...” He grabbed my wrist and turned my hand over. “This isn’t a symptom of albinism. And it’s not a skin rash either. This is you deliberately scraping yourself, in a very visible spot. There are less conspicuous and more effective ways to self-harm, you know? But you sure managed to attract attention like this, which you desperately need, thanks to that delightful personality mentioned earlier.”

I stood up and pushed him back. He grabbed my arms again and pinned me against the wall.

“You’re crazy!”

Jeremy smiled. “Unfortunately for you, I’m perfectly sane right now. Don’t ever try to use Lucas to threaten me again. Understood?”

I refused to respond and give him the satisfaction, but he let me go anyway.

Then he turned back to his bed. He pulled out books from his bag and started studying as if nothing had happened.

I ran off to the bathroom like a coward and locked myself in. I turned on the shower, but I stood in front of the sink, staring at the mirror. I started scratching my hand, then forced myself to stop.

I couldn’t think. Or rather, I had too many thoughts screaming simultaneously, none of which made sense.

One of those thoughts grew louder than the others, but I still couldn’t distinguish the words. They didn’t really sound like words. Sounds. Breaths. Gasps.

I couldn’t breathe. I was kneeling on the bathroom mat, and in front of me, Luther was drowning in his own blood, my hands dripping red.

“Swear it to me, Casper. And I won’t doubt you for a second.”

I heard my voice crying, my forehead pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

“He had a gun, and he was going to shoot you. What was I supposed to do? Should I have let him kill you? You... you didn’t even see him, did you? You just stood there with your eyes wide open, staring into the void…”

My mind continued to torture me with his voice, his face... There was no way to erase it from my brain.

My nails dug into my scalp, as if they could reach my memories and tear them to pieces.

I don’t know how long I stayed locked in there, but when I finally managed to stand up and wash the blood from under my nails, there was no more sunlight coming through the tiny bathroom window.

I opened the door, finding Jeremy standing right beside it, head bowed. He didn’t even pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping on my little breakdown.

I grabbed my backpack, stopping only to check for my keys, sunglasses, and wallet.

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

“Go to hell.” I kept walking towards the exit.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

I opened the door. “To hook up. Get drunk. Maybe try some happy pills.”

That annoying tick grabbed the handle and blocked my way. “You want to get drunk at a party where you don’t know anyone? After having a breakdown? It’s not a good idea. It’s dangerous.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you’re so worried someone might rape me, you can come along and play guard dog.”

Jeremy didn’t even flinch. “I’ll go to your stupid party if you help me sort out the Caldwell game.”

Why did he even care so much?

Who gives a fuck. I nodded half-heartedly. Maybe I’d take back my promise later.