Page 127 of Oleander

It had been months since I had last done it, but with another mouthful of vodka, I closed my eyes and remembered it all.

I let every painful memory flood back in, like a dam bursting and the swell rushing to the front of my brain, pouring over the walls I’d built.

I missed him. I missed what we’d had. The lie we’d had. The lie he’dlet mehave.

I missed how fucking special he made me feel when he looked at me – not some orphaned boy no one really wanted – but someone special. Special enough that I could be worthy of someone like him.

Deep down, I knew he was an awful, spiteful, empty person and I had the scars to prove it – but when he’d looked at me, when he’d let me touch him and hold him and have him, it was like—

I swallowed another mouthful. Dark, twisted arousal ebbed unwanted inside my boxers. I drowned it away with vodka, as I scrubbed at my eyes.

The thing that scared me most was that I was going to belong to him like this forever. He’d carved out a part of my heart and soul for himself and nothing except him would be able to fit inside it. It was him or it was nothing. It was him.

I hated him for it. Wanted to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt me.

I thought terrible thoughts, like going back to Finn’s and kissing him in front of Caspien, of dragging him upstairs and making him scream loud enough that Caspien would hear.

Maybe I’d force him to watch, maybe I’d—

The knock on the door was loud enough to hear over the hum and rattle of the convection heater and the radio. I reached over to turn the volume down on the speaker. It was always my first thought. That someone was coming to give me hassle the way Beth always had when I’d have the music up too loud. No one had ever done it here, but the instinct was still there.

I wanted whoever it was to fuck off and let me get drunk and maudlin in peace, and so I sat unmoving, hoping they’d do just that. They didn’t.

The knock came again, just as steady and determined as the first.

I grabbed a pair of sweats from the clothes horse and yanked open the door.

Caspien stood on the other side, relaxed and utterly bone dry. He was wearing a dark trench coat, leather gloves, and a look of complete petulance.

He stared at me a long time, before he said, “Well. Are you going to invite me in?”

Seven

"Iwasn’t planning on it, no.”

This appeared to amuse him. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t enjoy having poisonous, deadly things in my living space.”

“Christ, I thought you were reading classics and literature, not drama.” He pushed past me with the same entitlement he’d always had, like he owned every space he existed in, even my dorm room.

Again, I considered running. Walking out, closing the door behind me, and going far far away.

“Close the door,” he said as he began to pinch off his gloves.

Steeling myself with a deep breath, I closed the door.

He unwrapped the scarf he wore and tossed both it and the gloves down on my armchair. It wasn’t a large space, the dorm room, and he was already far too close to me. It seemed absurd that he was there at all, after all this time; how he’d just strode back into my life as easily as he’d strode out.

I stayed near the door. His scent was already on me and I didn’t know what I might do if he got within arms reach. Fortunately, I’d set the vodka on the desk, which was by the door, and so I reached out for it and brought it to my mouth.

Caspien watched.

“Drink?” I asked him.

“I’m not convinced that’s what that is.” He said, looking around, mouth twisted in what I read as distaste.

“How did you even find me?”