For a moment I wished I had Olly’s body, his height, his strength. If I looked like Olly, I could face my Dad and not be afraid.
“I love you, Clar,” I said. My voice cracked while I spoke but I didn’t let it stop me from carrying on. “And tell Mom I love her, too.”
“She loves you back,” Clara whispered. I could hear how hoarse her voice was, how it stuck on a lump in her throat just like the lump in mine. “And so do I.”
“Call me whenever,” I said. I had to hang up. I had to go and process all of this myself. But I needed to know that she was going to be okay – and that she knew I would be there in a heartbeat if she needed me.
“I will,” she promised. “Bye, Keat.”
“Bye,” I said, just managing to bring the phone down from my ear before a sob rocked through my body.
I couldn’t believe it had finally happened. He’d snapped. It wasn’t like I thought my Dad was a good guy, but what he’d done to me had been because I was gay. I thought there was no chance he would ever turn on my Mom and sister.
I couldn’t believe that so much had changed for them, so many scary things had happened, and I hadn’t even been there.
I wiped a hand across my face stubbornly and turned to look out of the wide window behind me. The campus was mostly empty, with only a few people strolling around purposelessly. A light breeze was blowing the trees around. I sniffed hard and wiped my eyes again. Life was carrying on as normal out there.
I needed to think about what I was going to do now. Maybe going to the lab and working on my edit was the best policy, after all. It might get me some time to myself, and if it didn’t, I could at least focus on the work instead of worrying. Maybe I could try to get this project all wrapped up in case I needed to leave in a hurry – so I could still turn it in for the credit.
My phone pinged and I looked down at it in a rush, expecting to see a message from Clara changing her mind and telling me to come home after all. It wasn’t that; it was just an email from the Dean.
Wait, why was the Dean emailing me? Did he need me to make a decision about my room? The way I felt right now, I didn’t even know what I would tell him. I wanted to stay with Olly - I really did - I wanted to know what that kiss meant and if there were going to be more, but… if there weren’t going to be more, then maybe it would be better for me to leave.
Hello Keaton,
I’m glad to hear the situation with your roommate has been resolved. I will release the room assignment to another student who requires a transfer. Thank you for letting me know of your decision.
I read the words through twice, trying to figure out what he meant. Letting him know of my decision? I hadn’t, had I? What was he talking about?
I scrolled down to read the message he’d sent me last, in case there was some kind of clue there –
And saw an email I didn’t recognize at all. “Dear Dean”? Why would I ever write something like that? I read it through – apparently I’d told him I didn’t want the room? But that wasn’t my writing – I wouldn’t use words and phrases like that. And the date and time –
It had been sent this morning, about ten minutes ago.
From my laptop.
Which was sitting open in the dorm room, where I had left Olly.
I lifted my head and looked up the stairs in the direction I needed to go, and clenched my fists.
He’d broken into my emails and sent it for me.
And now he was going to explain to me what the hell he thought he was doing.
Olly
The longer I sat on my bed alone, the worse the feeling in my stomach got. At first, it was just a little twinge. Then I began to feel sick.
Then I heard someone’s footsteps storming down the corridor outside and I thought I was going to vomit.
The door burst open. Keaton was standing behind it – and he looked pissed. Really, really pissed.
“What did you do?” he asked furiously.
I swallowed hard. “Just… close the door,” I said. “We can talk.” I didn’t want other people overhearing. There was a chance that Keaton would bring up what happened last night. The kiss. I didn’t want anyone else to know about that.
I didn’t even know what it meant, myself. There was no way I was ready to explain it to anyone else.
