Page 23 of Cheater and the Saint

Leo exhaled before putting the truck in drive and backing out of the parking lot. He hadn’t drunk much, so I knew he was okay to drive. More cars pulled in as we got on the main road, heading back toward campus.

“You’re not an experiment, by the way,” Leo said, breaking the silence. “I can tell you’ve dealt with shit before. Probably why you don’t make sense sometimes.”

Hewas the one not making sense.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I get the whole introverted thing,” he continued, flicking on the turn signal before going left toward the student housing parking. “Yeah, you fit that part. But I can tell there’s more to you, too. Like, sometimes it seems like youwantto crack a joke or go out, but something’s holding you back. You go against what you want and do something else instead. That’s all I meant by you not making sense. Whatever shit happened to make you the way you are is the reason you push people away. Why you’ve kept me at arm’s length these past weeks, when all I’ve tried to do is get to know you.”

Once again, he noticed more than I gave him credit for, and not for the first time, guilt flooded my chest.

“Opening up to people is hard for me,” I said, not moving after he shut off the engine. “Trust is something I struggle with. And you’re right. I went through some things in school that really pushed me over the edge. I keep to myself, because it’s easier that way.”

“The bullying?”

I’d forgotten I’d let that slip to him. “Yeah.”

I thought he’d press me for more information, but he didn’t. He took off his seatbelt and turned to me. “So, Frosty. If you don’t like to go to clubs on the weekend, whatdoyou like to do? Throw me a bone here.”

I smiled, despite all that’d happened so far that night. The unease from the club was behind me now, and I liked how Leo had a way of masterfully changing the subject.

“I like going to movies,” I said, already dreading the look I knew I’d get after saying what I considered fun. “Staying in to read a good book, talking to people over a cup of coffee. Actually talking. Not just hooking up. Bowling and Putt-Putt are fun, too, but I never have anyone to go with.”

“You mentioned hooking up,” Leo said, missing nothing. “Was that a jab at me?”

“Only a little,” I answered with a small smile. “I’ve met some promiscuous men before, but you’re a level of your own. I thought we’d need a revolving door by the amount of people you were bringing home.”

Leo’s face fell and his brow furrowed before he got out of the truck. The fresh air was nice, feeling crisp and holding that chill of fall that I looked forward to each year, even if the changing seasons always did bring on a slight depression for me. We walked to our building in silence.

He didn’t say what was on his mind, and I didn’t ask.

After we went into our dorm, he went to his room and closed the door, a soft click before silence. I debated on going after him, to apologize if my comment had upset him. If I was a better person—a more courageous one—I would have.

But I didn’t.

I went into my room and did the same, gently closing the door, the only sound in the house before nothing more.

The next morning, things were weird. Different than they’d been in the previous two to three weeks. No coffee was made in the morning, and when I walked past Leo’s room a little before noon, the door was still closed.

We weren’t friends, but we were something. All the light conversations over coffee in the morning and the way he pestered me over the weeks had become… I don’t know… something I looked forward to.

And now it was gone.