And They Were Roommates(44)

The instructor yells at her to stop waving, and the line continues through the gate.

Right. Because the academy won’t even let me say hello. Seriously?

The two church bell towers chime in harmony. Ten minutes to lights-out.

Shoving my belongings into my bag, I head back to Philautia Residence Hall by myself, feeling even more isolated after seeing Delilah without getting to ask if she’s receiving my letters. The air tickles my nose, the leaves of the woods rotting now with winter around the corner. Except for a few students exiting the library, the paths are deserted. For a moment, I get lost in that dream where I don’t need a room to myself. Where I can make as many friends as Mom. Where I can live my days like any other boy here and not feel so on my own.

But once I’m in front of Room 503, reality comes roaring back. Time to face Jasper after leaving him behind for the second time in our lives. At least, to him, it’s only the first.

I take a deep breath and knock once. Grimes.

“Come in,” his voice calls.

I do cautiously. My eyes split open wide.

Jasper stands at the center of the Valentine crest rug, clutching a bottle of champagne against his stomach. His red dress shirt is tucked into his plaid slacks, and his blazer is buttoned, hugging his waist and shoulders in the right places. What’s rarer is his blond hair left down, falling to his shoulders. He never even sleeps with his hair down.

He somehow looks even more attractive this way.

The thought knocks me back like a punch. I slam the door shut. So what if he’s objectively attractive? He’s not subjectively to me. “What are you doing with a beverage? Get rid of that!”

Jasper twists the champagne cork. It pops and soars. Foam trickles down his hand.

“What did I literally just say?” I shout.

“You can’t even offer me a honey, I’m home first?”

“We’re minors. We can’t have that on campus. Where did you—?”

“It’s sparkling apple juice.”

“You—Oh.”

“Yes,” Jasper says. “Will you allow me to speak now?”

Pushing my glasses farther up my nose, I huff and scan Jasper’s feet, surrounded by flower petals and cinnamon candles shaped in a heart. My notebook that I left in his office is nearby. So is a stack of pens and pencils. “Are you setting our room on fire?”

“I’m setting the mood for romance.”

My heartbeat splutters. I try to stay very still and normal. “For me?”

The light of Jasper’s buzzing bedside lamp suddenly hits his face at an angle that turns his cheeks rosier. Did he move? “For writing love letters together. Work! Non?”

“R-right.” What else did I think? “Isn’t a dull environment best?” I gesture at the pansy bouquet pattern on our walls. “I mean, even without the heart, we have that pink wallpaper.”

“You mean shabby chic wallpaper?”

“It’s baroque at most.”

“If we’re getting into specifics, it’s French country,” Jasper says, tossing a hand.

I frown. “Is there a point to this, Jasper?”

Jasper’s mouth opens and closes before he hops over the fire hazard he’s created, crushing petals in the process, and meets me at the door. “I have been thoughtless. You do have a lot of pressure on you. Thank you for being honest.”

Now my whole body is what’s on fire. Do I have a fever? Did I catch some illness from that freezing gazebo? “I yelled at you.”

“You did.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“It’s an honor that you shared your feelings with me. You often don’t with others.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can say in the face of being read by somebody who shouldn’t be able to. Who can’t.

But it’s true. While I have to monitor Mom’s feelings over my grades, Delilah’s over my own well-being, and every other students’ here to ensure I’ve kept my head down enough, I never have to with Jasper. In a way, that part of being around him feels like freedom. Even if I’m simultaneously trapped in a room with him.

“However, you’re misguided about one thing,” Jasper says, playing with the bangs shaping his face. “People do not like me.”

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to laugh. “Everyone loves you.”

“My aunt is the principal. They have to. Isn’t that why you’ve tried to tolerate me so for so long?”

My shoulders tense. “I. Well.”

Jasper smiles, but it’s bitter. “Same goes for the other top ranks. It’s so sought after by everyone—rather, their parents, who practically threaten their own kids to kick us off.”

I look toward the window and at the library beyond. “You help them with their love lives. They all thank you.”

Jasper wanders to the windowsill. He grabs a chunk of the glass paperweight he shattered on the first day. “And some are friendly to get a date but would cheer if I got hit by a car. I’ll never know who’s who.”

I stand there, unsure what to say.

“My advice,” Jasper says when I don’t respond, putting down the paperweight. “Whenever you do rank, do not trust anybody here either.”