Being gay is a curse when the homophobia you grew up with was so bad that you're homophobic yourself. Especially when you're into unavailable guys like your roommate, whose girlfriend is everything you're not (though appearances can be deceiving). S...
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"Hey, where were you yesterday?"
With an unamused snort, I put my finger between the pages of my book and looked up at Jackson, who seemed to have picked up the habit of looking for me in the library when I was not in our room. It was almost like he didn't get the hint that I actually enjoyed being alone every now and then... No, he was right here, smiling and taking the seat across from me, completely unaware—he even had a notebook and a book under his arm, giving me the impression he'd be here for a while.
When he looked at me inquisitively after the complete lack of response, I let out a sigh and replied, "You sound like my mom, Jackass."
"Why do you still call me that?" he groaned.
I looked back down at my book, trying to hide a tiny smile. "Because you don't like it. I've got to get my revenge for all those times you've been a pain in my ass. And where I was yesterday is none of your business."
"And here I thought we were getting somewhere," he muttered.
A moment of silence passed, and all he did in the meantime was shake his head, open his book, and start reading. I stared at him in utter surprise. Had we actually reached the point where he'd stopped trying to get me to tell him everything? Had he finally accepted that he wasn't entitled to know every single little thing about me just because we shared a room? This couldn't be true!
Yet, somehow, the silence bothered me.
It felt like I was waiting for the bomb to explode.
I really was just waiting for him to ask again just so I could 'cave in' and tell him what I had been up to, wasn't I? Waiting for an excuse. I shook my head to myself. Carl was right. I was hiding things for no reason just because it seemed easier; because I was used to hiding everything.
Wasn't I?
Yeah, I most definitely was.
Out of everyone I knew—which was, admittedly, not a very extensive list—Jackson was the only one I could freely talk to about this without being judged.
Face to face, that is. I knew Johanna would listen as well, but I rarely texted or called her, so I wasn't going to suddenly start doing that just to tell her about Carl. I would tell her the next time I saw her. There were more than enough birthdays throughout the year to use as an excuse for my entire family to come home.
"I was just..." I cleared my throat. "Visiting someone's... cat."
Jackson raised his head with an amused smile. "Someone's cat?"
"It's a cute cat."
His smile grew. "Oh, I'm sure the cat was cute."
Oh, please. I knew very well what he was insinuating, but I would not humor him. I nodded and replied very seriously, "Yes, certainly. Her name is Snusken and she sat on my lap all evening."
