“I know it’s stupid, but…I really like him,” I end, my eyes burning and my heart sinking. I hadn’t even admitted it to myself, but after mulling it all over, it’s impossible to ignore the feelings attached to every moment.
“Okay, first of all,wow, nice catch!” Olli grins, making me smile despite myself. “And second, you’re worried he doesn’t feel the same?” His voice is quiet, gentle. He let me talk without interrupting, just handing me a kitten every now and then.
I really appreciate it, feeling much lighter now. “Obviously, he doesn’t. I mean…he has plans! This is just an experiment for him.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
I shake my head, scooting over with the desk chair. All kittens are weighed and can now go back into a cuddle pile in their crate. They have their little heads set on exploring the office, though.
“I’m too scared of his reaction.” I hate that I know it’s true. I was scared of my parents’ reaction to my change in major, too, which is why I kept it from them. I preferred suffering in silence until everything erupted around me. And now, with Micah, it’s the same thing.
“Yeah, I can understand that, but”—he raises a brow at me—“you can’t run from it forever, Lind. Sometimes the uncomfortable truths have to be faced head-on.”
I groan when he puts a figurative finger on this sore spot. “Ugh, can’t I get a comfortable lie that it’ll all be okay and I don’t have to change my behavior, but it’ll work out anyway?”
“Nope.” Olli grins.
“Sucks.”
An amicable silence settles between us for a few minutes.
“Can’t believe they’re going to different homes soon.” Olli changes the topic, picking up one of the kittens and gently cradling it in his hands. His voice is thick enough to make me swallow, too.
“Yeah, I know,” I mumble, then clear my throat to keep my composure. “They all grew so much. You did really well with them,” I comment as I look over the numbers that I’ve just written down. Before I left, they were still wobbly on their little legs, and now they’re traipsing around like the world is their playground.
Olli merely hums, shrugging like it’s no big deal, when I know very well how exhausting it must have been to keep their feeding schedule and clean up after them.
“They’re like stomachs with feet.” He chuckles. “It’s actually a good thing I’m getting rid of them before they eat up my savings,” he adds, but also makes soft kissy noises at the kittens, now all safely back in a little pile.
“They’re gonna be fine.” That’s the only thing I can say. No way can we secretly keep four kittens in the Nook, not with Micah’s allergy and our landlord a constant threat hanging over our heads. But I have to believe that we'll find good homes for them where they’ll grow up loved and get spoiled rotten.
“Yeah…still. I just wish I could keep them. Or visit them, you know?”
“Why don't you ask Davenport? He doesn't live in the dorms, right? And he helped save them after all. Maybe he'd—”
“No.”
I flinch at the interruption. Seeing the dark frown that's carved into Olli's usually carefree features startles me again. I've seen my housemate in dozens of debates at the Nook, but never like this. Anger and agony are written in every line, every dark shadow under his eyes.
“...what? Why not?”
“Davenport isn’t an option.” Olli's voice cuts sharply through my uncertain question.
I bite my lip, but duck my head to find his eyes again. I raise my hands, hoping to show him that I don’t mean to be a threat, but I'm not that easily deterred.“Olli, I don’t understand. What happened? I thought he helped you take care of them?”
Olli’s jaw works like he’s chewing on words, but it doesn’t hide his quivering lower lip. Then, all at once, he crumbles and buries his head in his hands.
Alarmed, I scoot closer. “Nothing to do with those Kappa Nu assholes, right?”
“No, no. Se-Seb and I—we…” he croaks out, voice breaking.
I wait for the explanation that will tell me what happened between them, until his actual words register.
Seb. Not Davenport.
We.
I don’t need to hear more.
