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Chapter Sixteen

RUTH

“ Y ou’re an asshole, you know that, right?”

“So you’ve mentioned,” Rowan drawls down the phone.

“And I mean it!”

“Sure.”

“You seriously didn’t study at all?” I roll onto my back, clutching my phone to my ear as I prop myself up with a pillow. I’m lying on my bed, books and bits of paper strewn around me. Rowan and I are supposed to be keeping each other company while we study, but we got off track about twenty minutes ago and haven’t stopped talking since.

“I skimmed the textbook the night before?”

My fist clenches. He’s telling me about a test he took last week, and apparently, he’s one of those people.

“Oh, fuck you.” I laugh. “Don’t ever give me study advice again.”

“I didn’t ace it.”

“You got an 81.”

“Yeah.” I can practically hear his smug smile through the phone.

I pick up my notebook, where I’ve got a rough outline drawn up for the first extra credit assignment that Professor Melville set. I think I’ve got the introduction and the first section down, but now I’m hitting a wall.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’m starting the timer again,” I huff, pulling the phone away from my face to start a twenty-minute countdown. We’ve been doing sprints all evening, twenty minutes of silence, then a five-minute break where we can talk. Rowan, obviously, is finding the silence element a lot easier than me.

“You got it.”

I get a couple more sentences out before my mind starts drifting. Is Rowan at home? He never said. Is he on the couch or in his room? Does he have the big light or a desk lamp on? I picture him strewn across his bed the same way I am, see him lit by the soft glow of a bedside light. What’s he wearing? What does he sleep in?

Ugh. No. I am not going there. Rowan is my friend. It doesn’t matter how nice he is or how unreasonably attractive I find him, it can’t happen. Besides, these aren’t real thoughts. This is just my brain trying to find something to fixate on that isn’t this paper. I check the timer, certain we must be nearly finished.

Sixteen minutes left.

Fuck.

I grumble under my breath. Rowan must hear me because I hear his soft chuckle over the line.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Shhh.” He laughs some more.

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re being an ass.”

“I literally said nothing. You’re the one ruining quiet time.”

“Don’t call it quiet time.” I can’t keep the harsh edge out of my voice.

“Sorry,” he responds. I know he didn’t mean anything, but my hackles are up.

“I’m not a child.”

“Did someone call you that?”

What? How would he- “No!” I squeak out.

“You’re a shitty liar, Ruth.”

“Nobody called me a child.”

“Was it that guy?”

I know immediately who he means. Every time I’ve mentioned Marshall’s name, Rowan goes all quiet, like he’s trying to hold back. I know Marshall didn’t make a great first impression, but I wish Rowan would at least give him a chance.

I realize I’ve been quiet too long when Rowan speaks again. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“He didn’t mean it in a bad way,” I mumble.

“But it hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” I protest, trying to brush it off. “I’m just being oversensitive.”

“You’re not over -anything. He’s an ass. I don’t know why you hang out with him.”

“He’s my friend.” How the hell did we end up fighting about this? “You don’t know him. You barely know me. You’ve got no place to comment on who I have in my life.”

My heart slams against my ribs as I wait for him to say something. Was I too harsh?

“I wish I did know you.” Rowan’s voice is soft.

My heartbeat somehow gets more intense, like the wings of a moth pounding against a pane of glass.

“You do?” I don’t think anybody’s ever said that to me before.

“So much.”

I don’t let myself second-guess the answer. “I want to know you too.”

He shuffles around, like he’s getting comfortable.

“Can you start by explaining what the deal is with you two? Just so I understand better. Is he your ex?”

“It’s a bit complicated.” I wince.

“Complicated how?”

“We had kind of a thing last year.”

“A thing?” He sounds incredulous.

“Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?”

“Are you gonna actually tell me this story without me having to drag it out of you?”

“You really suck sometimes, you know that, right?” I huff.

“I know. Tell me anyway.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that’ll make it an easier story to tell. “I had a really big thing for him when we were freshmen. I thought I was being subtle about it, but I guess he knew.” Embarrassment floods me as I remember the way I acted back then. I was so desperate for his attention, it was a little pathetic.

“Did you guys ever…”

“Let me finish,” I cut him off.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“We, uh, yeah, we kinda hooked up a few times, but I thought maybe it was more than what it was?”

“How?” Rowan’s voice is tight and I wonder if he can already see where this story’s going.

“I thought we were together. He didn’t want me to tell anyone, and I thought it was just because he’s a private person, but it all got really messy.”

He makes a displeased noise over the line.

“I was stupid,” I sigh, tapping my fingers against my thigh in an effort to stop the tears that always threaten when I think back on how dumb I was. “I just had all these…expectations. I guess I kind of projected? Like, I wanted him to like me so much that I made myself believe that’s what was happening. I didn’t realize he was pulling away until he told me about some girl in his English class he wanted to ask out.”

“The fuck?”

“It was my fault-”

“The fuck it was!” he snaps, his sharp breaths audible, like a bull gearing up for a fight. “He led you on. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“No, he’s not like that.” I try to keep my voice even. “He’s my friend, we’re just friends now.”

“There’s no way you believe that.”

“It’s the truth! We’ve moved on.”

“Have you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” I stand up, not able to stay still for this.

“Not at all, but I know guys like him. He might say he’s okay being your friend, but he’s keeping you on the hook in case he ever needs a plan B.”

All the fight goes out of me. Plan B . Tears sting the backs of my eyes as his words land. Another reminder that all I am to most people is their second choice.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry,” Rowan starts “That’s not what I meant.”

“I’ve got to go. I really need to finish this paper.”

“Ruth, come on, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me!” I burst out, a sob escaping me.

“Ruth, please-”

I hang up. How the hell did that get so out of control? Whatever issues Rowan seems to have with Marshall, it’s because he doesn’t know him. If he did, then he’d realize how ridiculous he’s being. I know he means well, that he’s trying to be a good friend, but I just wish people would stop acting like I need managing.

The sound of the alarm on my phone slices through the room, the screen proudly displaying that the study sprint is finished. My notebook stares up at me accusatorially, the unfinished paragraph like a beacon of defeat.

I toss it across the room, knowing I’m not going to get anything more done tonight.