Chapter 195: Well... That Went Horribly
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I looked at him. The weight of that realization sat heavier than anything we’d discussed before.
"He doesn’t like obstacles in his way, like people becoming burdens or dragging him down. I probably got in the way of something. So he walked away." Jeremy spoke.
A cold feeling settled quietly in my chest, like a weight dropping where certainty used to be. The evening air felt a little cooler against the back of my neck.
No. That couldn’t be...it wasn’t Damien. Was it?
Damien wouldn’t do that crap to something for a reason like that.
There had to be something else to make Damien cut him off.
Jeremy glanced at me, the understanding in his eyes hitting harder than I was ready to accept. "I know you don’t believe me."
"...".
"And honestly? I don’t expect you to."
He smiled softly, almost delicate in a way that made his words feel sharper.
"You’re blinded by your feelings for him."
Heat crept into my cheeks, unwelcome under the cooler night air, too revealing for comfort.
"I just...I see you have a good heart. So I’m giving you a heads-up, that’s all." Jeremy said.
I stared at the ground, the streetlight casting long shadows across the cracks in the concrete. A stupid thought slipped into my mind before I could catch it. The orange light stretched the shadow of the bench further than it should have, making the pavement look uneven and distorted.
If that were true...
What if I become more of a liability than I already am?
If I became a burden... would Damien... would leave me behind too?
And treat me like a stranger?
That idea sank in like a splinter I couldn’t remove, and I hated it instantly. I hated that it even crossed my mind, that unwelcome thought settling deeper than I wanted it to.
I looked back at Jeremy. The soft city sounds surrounding us felt further away than before.
"...You know."
"What?"
"I’ve heard things about you too."
His eyebrow shot up, surprise flashing across his face, almost breaking the heavy tone that had settled between us.
"Oh?"
"Funny how you suddenly care so much about my well-being. From what I’ve heard you’re quite the fuck boy."
Jeremy blinked. The pause that followed carried more weight than earlier. "...Straight to the point."
"I heard you don’t keep anyone around for longer than a week."
He chuckled softly, the sound too smooth to comfort me, the amusement not quite reaching his expression. "So that’s what people say, huh."
"Is it true?"
He hesitated, the silence stretching long enough to feel intentional. "So what?"
I pressed on. My words came out sharper than before, carrying frustration that bubbled beneath the surface. "So you thought I’d just let you hit because you asked nicely like you’d done with other people?"
Jeremy looked surprised, then smiled, soft and rueful, as if my accusation hit closer to the truth than he wanted to admit. "I guess my reputation finally caught up with me."
"It should."
"I deserve that."
"You do."
I pointed my skewer at him, the remaining piece of meat still carrying the sharp scent of spice, emphasizing my point.
"Do you even realize that people have feelings?"
"I—"
"You can’t just treat people like they’re fucking temporary entertainment! They’re human beings too, they have lives. They get attached...they get hurt as well." I scolded.
"You don’t just date someone until you’re bored and then move on like they’re an app you can delete, it’s not fair to the ones that actually liked you."
Jeremy just... watched me. He didn’t interrupt my rant, didn’t argue, just... watched, with an expression that was hard to read, somewhere between amusement and something unsettling.
"...Are you even listening?" I asked, exasperated.
His smile softened, the earlier amusement shifting to something more focused.
"...Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look when you’re mad?"
I nearly dropped my food, the sudden shift catching me off guard, the skewer almost slipping from my fingers.
"Has anyone...what now?"
"You really are attractive, Oliver. So beautiful."
My brain glitched, "...Jeremy...I–"
He shifted closer, way too close. Before I realized it, his fingers brushed gently against my cheek, that warmth registering just a second too late, leaving me frozen in surprise.
The city sounds around us seemed to fade away for just a moment, leaving only the space between us and the soft pressure of his hand against my skin.
His eyes flicked towards my lips, an obvious shift that held more intention than our earlier talk had prepared me for.
"I really was going to try." he began.
"W–what?"
"To just be your friend."
His voice lowered to almost a whisper, his words settling heavily between us.
"I know you like Damien. But..."
He smiled sadly, that look gentle but weighed down by history. "I can’t help it. Damn it."
Every alarm bell in my head went off. The quiet night air felt thinner, like the space between us had shrunk too quickly.
Then he said the one thing I didn’t want to hear.
"...Damien doesn’t deserve someone like you."
I snapped, grabbing his wrist and yanking his hand away, the movement sharper than I intended, adrenaline flooding my system. The sudden touch felt colder than the night air, the force of my own movement surprising me.
"Stop."
He looked genuinely remorseful. The regret that crossed his face held more weight than any of his earlier smiles.
"Oliver—"
"No."
"If it’s about my reputation—"
"It not, I don’t really care about that–"
He didn’t fully back off. The charm stayed in place even as he lowered his voice further.
"I’ll turn over a new leaf for real this time because you’re worth it. Please just give me a chance instead of him. I’m right here, Oliver. I’m not going to leave."
His voice was painfully sincere, and the intensity of it felt heavier than everything we’d discussed before, making the space too small.
Before I fully grasped his intention, he leaned closer to my lips. It registered too late, the shift of his weight on the bench becoming clear only after the fact.
"What the hell, man?!"
I jerked back so suddenly I almost toppled off the bench, steadying myself against the armrest. The hard wood pressed sharply against my palm, the moment leaving my heart racing.
Jeremy froze, surprise flitting across his face, quickly replaced by something closer to regret. "I’m sorry—"
"No."
I stood, putting several solid feet between us. The cool night air rushed into the space that had just felt too close, sharp and clarifying against the lingering heat of the moment.
"I’m serious."
He stood too, hands raised slightly as if to show he meant no harm, but that moment had passed. "Oliver, just listen—"
"I have listened for the last hour. But you clearly haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said for weeks!" I responded, "I don’t feel the same way."
Jeremy started to explain, the words tumbling over each other in a mix of apology and continued persuasion, but I was already done.
"And I am not that kind of person, Jeremy. If you can’t keep your feelings in check enough to stay just friends, then I think it’s best we don’t speak anymore.
He looked stricken, the confident ease draining from his expression. The collapse of his earlier composure revealed something quieter, more vulnerable beneath.
"Congratulations on the good grades and all, I’m truly happy for you...you earned them, but that’s where it ends. I’m sorry." I said.
I didn’t wait for another response. I turned and walked off into the night at a pace that was just short of running, the cool air hitting my heated face as the lights of the food cart and the bench and Jeremy himself fell away behind me.
The streets toward Preston Hall felt longer than usual, every step replaying the almost-kiss, the soft way he had called me beautiful, and...worst of all, the quiet certainty in his voice when he talked about Damien’s habit of leaving people behind.
I know I didn’t believe it. But the worst part was how easily the doubt had slipped in anyway.