That Infuriating Feeling: An Academic Rivals to Lovers Novel (Chasing Feelings Book 2)

Chapter 12

June

I was on my way to this afternoon’s torture session when I came across the very dungeon master who was assigned to me. Judging by his direction, he was going to be late, which I found incredibly offensive considering he’d forced my number from me just this morning, and I’d received no warning text about his tardiness.

“Oliver, sir, our session is that way,” I projected across the quad to him, pointing toward the east side of campus. He shook his head and approached me. I refused to meet him halfway, standing still until he planted his feet in front of mine.

“I forgot my computer charger. Come get it with me and we’ll head to the library.”

I crossed my arms tightly and sank into one hip, silently rejecting his offer. I did not need to spend even one extra second with this monster.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “My dorm is right there, Juni.” He pointed to a building less than a hundred feet away before turning around with an odd kind of confidence that told me he knew I was going to follow.

I did. For some reason. I can’t say I wasn’t the littlest bit curious about the pigsty in which he lived. Making a silent bet to myself, I decided it would be the smelliest of all hellholes.

Oliver and I entered his building and walked into the elevator. We leaned on opposite walls, engaging in some sort of weird stare-off as we ascended. Finally, the elevator dinged and I followed him down the hall. He let me into his room first.

“Fine, no horrid smell,” I mumbled as I stepped inside. A person was sitting at the desk in front of the window, only the back of his large black sweatshirt and raven bun visible to me. I had to assume that was Jonah from the Facebook photos.

Half of the room was spotless, which I guess could’ve been Oliver’s half. He was the man who spent almost three entire sessions organizing our project instead of actually doing it, after all. But for such a structured man, I did find it odd that he not only forgot his charger but now couldn’t seem to find it as he peeked around his desk.

“Hi,” I said quietly to the roommate. I didn’t much care for Oliver, but that was no reason to be outright rude to Jonah. I could at least force an awkward hello.

Jonah twitched, sliding his headphones off and doing a double take before letting his impressively green gaze linger on me momentarily. I’m not sure he heard me, but he definitely sensed us. He pressed his lips together and turned back around, leaving his headphones on the desk.

“Don’t even bother with him,” Oliver said. “He’s not one to socialize.”

“Sorry I’m not goofy and talkative like you, Oli,” Jonah grumbled.

“Goofy and talkative?” I mouthed in Oliver’s, or Oli’s, direction.

“Not for you,” Oliver murmured.

I rolled my eyes.

As he searched for his charger, I kicked around the room, quietly taking it in. There was a pair of ripped-up Vans and a pair of dirty Converse sticking out from under Jonah’s bed, but not a speck of dust on Oliver’s. Even Oliver’s desk was as tidy as the hospital bathrooms I used to cry in. It contrasted heavily with his roommate’s, which had handwritten papers and pens and a bottle of Vitamin D, all scattered around the laptop he was currently using.

I stopped about a foot away from Jonah when I noticed a picture on his desk. He and Oliver sat on a white balustrade, grinning at each other. Smushed between them was a girl, or maybe she was a literal ray of sunshine. Her bright smile took up half the photo, her hair blowing across her face perfectly. I just knew she had to be the baggy-jeaned butt from Oliver’s Facebook.

“She’s stunning,” I said, only half-conscious of the fact that I’d spoken aloud.

Again, Jonah gave me twitchy acknowledgment, turning around to look at me quickly before following my line of vision to the photo. His gaze softened as he snatched it off the desk and brought it beneath his face to get a better look. He then held it out, offering it to me like a little kid who wanted me to inspect his macaroni art.

“That’s Kai,” he said as I took it. He twisted his fingers together, waiting for my reaction. I suppose he could socialize then, if given the right topic of discussion.

I looked at the picture closely. It must not’ve been from very long ago, because Oliver looked about the same. Jonah was noticeably more alive in the image, but maybe he was just tired today. The three of them looked so un-alone, so accompanied and cared for, and I envied that as much as Jonah’s eyes were green.

I handed it back to him. “She’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” He observed it once again, running his thumbs over the frame with care.

“Are you two together?” I asked. Oliver had said she’d never settle for either of them in our session the other day, but I still wondered. The roommate was visibly enamored. Maybe Oliver was just a jealous liar.

“Oh, no.” Jonah shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

“He’s been in love with her for seven years,” Oliver said from the other side of the room. He then added, with slight dramatic flair, “He’d cut out his vocal cords just to see her for a split second.”

Was that a glimpse of goofy?

“Enthusiastically,” Jonah whispered, setting the picture down on his desk and rubbing behind his neck.

“Maybe you should tell her,” I said. “She might like to hear it.”

Jonah laughed nervously, peering in my direction though looking down as if I were the sun and he wasn’t meant to stare directly at me.

“She would not,” Oliver said.

Jonah immediately picked up a pen and threw it at Oliver, who caught it and tossed it right back with a chuckle. It was the first time I’d ever heard him laugh, and for a fleeting moment, it turned him into an entirely different person. It was weird.

“Does she go here?” I asked, glancing between the two boys.

“She lives in Madrid,” Jonah said quietly as Oliver returned to his search which still hadn’t ended. “She left after graduation.” He propped his elbows on his desk and rubbed one hand over his forehead, seemingly distraught by the news though it happened over a year ago. The roommate appeared hollow, physically and emotionally. I couldn’t tell if there was a body underneath that giant sweatshirt, and the only color on him was in his two eyes. With paper skin and shadow black hair, he looked like the thing of nightmares. Of soft-spoken, sweet, love-riddled nightmares. I almost wanted to ask him if he could kindly bring back Alana’s soul.

“I’m sorry,” I said. And I was. I could see the longing on his face, and I knew firsthand that there was absolutely nothing more painful than wishing you could be near someone who was gone, than wishing you could turn back time just to see them.

He shrugged. “I think… I think one day, she’ll realize. I’ll… I’ll make some changes, and then she’ll realize.” He retrieved the previously thrown pen from his desk and began twiddling it, unscrewing the top and screwing it back on, not fully convinced by his own words. “I’m Jonah,” he finally said, looking up at me. “I’m not weird. I’m sure Oli has told you I’m a hermit or something.” I giggled, though Oli had told me no such thing. “Really. I can socialize, but I prefer to do other things.”

“I’m June. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” I tilted my head. “What other things do you do?”

“Our music.”

“Jonah,” Oliver cut in sharply. “You want to tell her my social security number while you’re at it?”

“You just told me who he’s in love with,” I said with a scoff. “It’s only right he tells me something about you now.”

“Be quiet, Juni, or you won’t be allowed back,” Oliver said.

“So, you were planning on inviting me back?” I asked with a victorious grin. He didn’t answer. “And it’s June, dipshit.”

Jonah quickly returned to typing on his laptop, and Oliver continued to rummage around. After a few seconds, Jonah poked my hand nonchalantly with his pen. He turned his computer toward me, selected the words on the screen, and blew them up so I could see them.

Don’t worry. He likes you. He’s only mean when he’s comfortable around someone.

Jonah’s eyes peered up at me, a mischievous little smirk spreading across his face. One spread across mine too. Not that I cared if Oliver liked me or not, but the fact that I was gathering these pieces of information, finding cracks in his infuriating exterior, was intriguing me immensely.

He was sweet. Jonah. A bit twitchy and quiet, sure, but he had a cool air about him. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t call him attractive, the poor thing, but the oversized black sweatshirt, the confidence in his solitude, the fact that he poked fun at Oliver with me… It all kind of worked for him. The mysterious roommate turned out to be quite cool, indeed. I found myself rooting for him and Kai about as much as I was rooting for Oliver to be hit over the head and lose what little bit of intelligence he had floating around in there.

◆◆◆

“So, you’re a musician, huh?” I teased as Oliver and I walked out of the dorm building and toward the library.

He didn’t answer. He almost looked kind of embarrassed.

“It’s not surprising,” I continued, “considering your shirts.”

Still, he remained quiet, staring ahead of himself with a flat look as we trudged across the quad.

“Oh my god!” I said happily. “This is so fun. I’ve always wanted to talk to a wall! It’s so great that you aren’t sentient because I can tell you all my deepest, darkest secrets.” I clutched Oliver’s arm like he was my best friend and I was about to dish hot gossip. The side of his mouth quirked up, though he did a great job of pretending he didn’t think I was funny. “When I was nine years old, my neighbor told me eating chocolate bars would give me superpowers, so I ate seventeen of them and threw up all over my mom’s car. When I was thirteen—”

“Is that true?” he asked, his cheeks now fully pushed back with a tight grin.

I immediately released his arm, backing away from him with a horrified expression. “Oliver! What did you do with my wall friend? Had I known it was you, I never would’ve divulged such a secret!”

He chuckled, reaching a hand out to flick my shoulder. I gave him a shove back.

The quad was nearly empty, the trees casting a comfortable shade over the cool, grassy space. I would’ve kept walking here forever if we weren’t on our way to the library. If only Oliver hadn’t been around, I might’ve actually enjoyed this stroll.

“You just wanted an excuse to touch me,” he said quietly.

My amusement evaporated at that claim. “Did not!”

He cleared his throat, holding his arm out like a butler. “It’s okay. It’s here if you decide you want it again.”

I laid a hand on his flanneled forearm and pushed it down. “I do not want it ever! Ugh.” I growled and crossed my arms, intently continuing on my path. Fuck him. A girl can’t even be funny without him being a cocky asshole.

For a few moments, we just walked in silence, the soft breeze carrying bits of hair into my face.

“I play drums,” he finally said.

I did a double-take. My eyes trailed down to his white Converse, then up to his black trousers, then his gray flannel. I nodded. “That checks out.” I caught his eye. “Why didn’t you want me to know that?”

He shrugged. “You don’t like me. You don’t like my clothes, my personality, and you certainly wouldn’t like the music my friends and I make.”

I stopped in my tracks, though I wasn’t sure why. Something about his words brought me to a full halt. I lifted my finger in reprimand. “Correction, Oliver, since you are literally always wrong. We don’t like each other. Do not pin this rivalry on me.”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back with a scoff. “That I should misrepresent our dynamic, even in private?”

“That you should imply you give a shit.”

“Okay, June,” he said with just a sprinkle of sarcasm in his tone. “We don’t like eachother, therefore I did not think you needed to know about my music.”

“You’re embarrassed,” I said matter-of-factly. It was a truth which pissed me off even more in this particular scenario, because it suggested he gave two shits what I thought.

“I’m not embarrassed.” He shook his head and continued walking.

I stomped alongside him. “You’re embarrassed,” I mumbled.

“Jesus Christ, June.” He stopped once again and placed a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. “You correct everything I do. I could present you with the mechanics of breathing, and you’d find a more efficient way to get oxygen into the bloodstream. I’m confident that if you knew a single thing about my music, you’d find seven ways to change it. And I love that you do that, June, I— I mean… Shit.”

He sighed, rubbing his eyebrows between two fingers as I sank into one hip smugly. I was incredibly satisfied with everything he’d said thus far and I would gladly continue listening. His embarrassment was perfectly acceptable if it involved him admitting how smart I was.

“Still hate you,” he said, lifting his hand in a stop motion. “But I learn a lot from you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to hear criticism on something I…care about.” He looked like a Flamin’ Hot Cheeto as he scratched behind his head and glanced around nervously, a thick shade of pink breaching from beneath his beard.

“I have no criticism for that answer, Oliver. That was beautiful. Well done.” I patted him on the chest and encouraged him to keep walking with me. “And you don’t need to be good at something to enjoy doing it, so forget all that. If you like music, do music.” I threw a hand in the air to emphasize that it really wasn’t that serious.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not bad. I’m very good. You’re just a tough critic.”

“Might seem that way,” I said casually as I shoved the library door open and stepped in before him, “for someone who’s bad at things.”

He clicked his tongue as I dropped the door on him. “Tell me something you like about me, then.”

“Why would I do that?”

“So we’re even. I told you one.”

“Impossible. I don’t like anything about you.” I straightened my bag on my shoulder as I walked to our private nook. Oliver followed a few paces behind.

“There’s gotta be one thing,” he said, swinging around me and arriving at our table, dropping his backpack with a grin.

I thumped my bag on the floor by my chair, glaring at him. “Vitamins.”

His complacent smirk wavered. “Vitamins?”

I nodded and plopped down in my seat. “I saw them on Jonah’s desk. You were trying to help him be happier, weren’t you?” If there was anything I’d gathered about the roommate who didn’t clean up well, didn’t interact with others, and loved someone who lived on another continent, it’s that he was sadness in human form. I remembered running into Oliver while he was out buying vitamins, and I knew a thing or two about desperate attempts to heal a friend who simply couldn’t. I had once filled Alana’s room with potions and stress relievers and any little thing I read about online, as if my attempts could be stronger than cancer.

Oliver looked around himself a bit less smugly than he had been a moment ago. “He has a hard time.”

I nodded. “I saw him.” It wasn’t hard to tell that Jonah was disintegrating.

Oliver paused for a long while, just kind of staring at me. I’d seen him go quiet plenty of times, but this was different. He was at a loss for words. After some time, he said, “It really hurts to watch him fade away.”

I broke our eye contact and pulled out my laptop. “I know how it feels.”

Our gazes locked again and, for only a quick moment, I let something glow between us. Something like kinship. Something like common ground.