Chapter 7
Oliver
Clearly, there was trouble somewhere in paradise.
Dean had been talking to Tilian in class.
The hushed tones made it impossible to eavesdrop, but I figured it was about our absent project buddy.
After class, he’d gone and talked to some other people—a couple freshmen from the football team.
I didn’t think it was casual conversation judging by the tension in all of them.
Not that I’d been watching Dean. I’d just been aware of him.
Even though I’d wanted to be nosey, it wasn’t really my business, so I chose to ignore the situation.
Then again, it had only been thirty minutes since then, and I was here an hour before we’d agreed to meet, so ignoring Dean obviously wasn’t my style. He probably wouldn’t notice the time.
While I climbed the stairs in Marshall Hall, I sent a text to Remi. I had to wonder how he kept that bar of his running with how much of his time he committed to games, dating apps, and harassing me.
Me: Busy today, but definitely tomorrow
Remi: Sounds like I need a new best friend
Me: No one else could handle your needy ass
I laughed when he sent me a string of GIFs. For a second, I considered backtracking. Dean wouldn’t need my help settling in, but devoting all of my attention to the game right after he moved in was rude.
Popping a piece of gum into my mouth, I continued to the third floor.
While I walked, I hummed my favorite anime intro and smiled at a guy who passed me.
I kept it on my face all the way to Dean’s room, but before I could knock, the door swung open and he came barreling out of it.
He stopped just before he collided with me.
I sort of regretted giving myself so much space from the door.
My eyes went from his dark hoodie to his eyes. “Oh, you’re wearing a shirt this time.”
His brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Last time you weren’t.”
“Uh, okay. My bad.”
“No, not bad. You ready to dip?”
He looked over his shoulder, then at me again.
He wasn’t particularly hard to read. Not for me, at least. To most people, he’d seem pretty simple, but he was always weighing things.
There was a little scale in his head, and he was the type who needed it to stay balanced.
I wondered what sat on the side that held his baseline, the pieces that had been established throughout the years of his life and remained mostly constant.
My head cocked as I continued to study him. The guarded look in his eyes. The way his fingers played at the hem of his sweatshirt. His attempt to reevaluate his plans.
He didn’t look happy at all. I almost let it put me on edge, but I focused on his eyes, which weren’t altogether angry. Whatever he felt right now was more complicated than that.
I reached out and put a hand on his arm. “You okay?”
“Yup.”
Lie.
“You can drop your defenses,” I noted, pushing my hands into my pockets. “If you changed your mind, you can say that.”
“What?”
Stepping back, I nodded just to have something to do. “I know you’ve been uncertain about it.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not it. I just . . . got back from an errand, and you’re early.”
“Oh.” I took my hands out of my pockets and crossed my arms. “If I’m not early, I’ll end up being late.”
“Sounds like you should work on that.”
I lifted a brow and smiled, which seemed to confuse him. “Alright, Broku. Guts is waiting for us.”
He blinked a few times. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms. “Guts? Broku?”
I twirled my keys around my finger. “Guts is my car. You’re Broku because—” I dragged my eyes down his body, but he still looked confused, so I shrugged. “I’m saying let’s bounce.”
“Um . . . Looks like you’re off driving duty, actually.”
My stomach flipped. Had I freaked him out too much?
“I’m lost,” I admitted.
“Someone fixed my car for me.”
I thought that was a good thing, but there was a frown on Dean’s face as he stared past me. Admittedly, I felt a little bummed too. I’d been planning to offer him a ride to classes during the week, but I doubted he’d be interested in carpooling if he had another option.
“No biggie. I’ll help you with your stuff. I’m already here,” I added when it was obvious he’d dismiss the idea.
With a grunt, he turned and walked into his room.
I followed, looking around curiously. It was super tiny for two full-grown men, and I couldn’t blame him for wanting the hell out.
I’d lived in close quarters with other dudes on more than one occasion, but it seemed inhumane to make someone pay for it.
The roommate was on his bed, and he blatantly scowled at me.
I snorted a laugh. “Careful, brotato. Your face’ll get stuck like that, then you’ll regret it.”
His eyes narrowed even further. “Imagine that. A jock making threats.”
“Threats?” I shook my head. “Just saying, you manifest your own destiny. It’s like dressing for the job you want, not the job you have.”
With a scoff, he turned away from me. I wasn’t sure how he thought he’d make friends with that attitude, but that was his cross to bear.
Moving closer to Dean’s side, I picked up a box. It was open and had a bunch of random stuff in it. Maybe it wasn’t random to him. I had the urge to pick through it all, but I just looked at him.
He had his backpack slung over both shoulders, along with a duffel bag, and there was a large box in his arms.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Mhm.”
I headed to the door first, shooting his roommate a smile as I passed. “Take it easy, man, and remember not to judge books by their covers.”
Dean and I continued into the hall. It was still silent as we left the building, but I saw him look over at me, so I glanced at him.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“Why?”
He looked up at the sky as a few drops of rain fell. “Jay’s a dick. Not sure what his deal is, but he’s been like that since the start.”
I lifted one shoulder. “Some people just aren’t meant to be part of our journey. Doesn’t bother me.”
“Alright, so you’re one of those Zen people.”
“Zen?”
“Like, yoga and mindfulness and all life has meaning.”
Looking at him again, I found him smiling. “Yoga, no. Mindfulness, maybe a little. Life having meaning, absolutely.”
“At least I know my new roommate isn’t a psychopath, right?”
At that, I laughed. “You never really know. Don’t people always say they had no idea their neighbor was evil? The most normal guy or whatever.”
“You’re the expert.”
“Nah, I don’t take an interest in killers.”
“Weird.”
I raised a brow, but he was looking ahead. “Why is that weird?”
“Everyone seems to be into serial killers these days. Sadie loved true crime. Maybe that was a red flag.”
“Who’s Sadie?”
His jaw noticeably tensed, and beneath the box, his fingers gripped it more tightly. “Just my ex.”
I hummed my acknowledgement, not knowing what else to say. My nosey ass wanted to know more about that situation, but I figured asking would be a bad way to start this friendship. Or housing partnership. Or whatever this was.
When I stopped at my car, Dean made a sound. At first, I didn’t know what it was, but then I realized he was laughing.
“You drive this?”
I opened the back and set the box inside. He didn’t seem to care that I was taking it.
“That’s what most people do with cars,” I said. “I mean, except you.”
He snorted. “Isn’t this that hamster car?”
“It has soul, like its name suggests.”
“Yeah, if you say so. As long as you like it.”
“I think it’s pretty neat.” Leaning against the back, I cocked my head. “What errand had you looking ready to fight a Saiyan earlier?”
“Are you my mom now?”
Humming, I looked him up and down. “Underground fight ring? Secret rendezvous with a pretty girl?”
“Bold of you to assume she’s pretty.”
“I mean, look at you.”
“Mm. Well, it wouldn’t be secret if I spilled now, would it?”
“Maybe you can tell I’m the most trustworthy guy on campus.”
“Nah, Linc exists.”
I frowned. “If he’s ever missing in action, I’m your guy.”
Dean just grunted his acknowledgement.
Interesting.
I wanted so badly to keep prying. Dean was a simple guy, and I doubted it was anything incredibly interesting, but that wasn’t the point.
Maybe he was stripping for some rich, lonely old woman.
Tapping my fingers on the car, I stared at his dark eyes. “Cheers to being mobile again,” I said with a smile.
“Sure. See you there.”
Once I got in my car, I tried to replay one of my favorite Dragon Ball episodes in my head. It helped me avoid thinking about pestering him, although the urge still gnawed at my insides relentlessly.