We both grab some food and pay, sitting at a vacant table with our trays.
“So, is—” I blank, almost slipping up and calling Rat Boy by his nickname. I scramble to think of his real name. “Quinton. Is Quinton your boyfriend?” I ask, unable to bite back my curiosity.
I can only assume there’s no romantic relationship between them, but I have to ask. The question has been gnawing at me since the other day. She doesn’t seem to be interested in him—at least not as interested as he is in her. But who knows, she could be attracted to him. Some girls tend to like that whole pale as hell, dying, creepy vampire look.
Olivia chokes on a sip of her water, quickly pulling the bottle away from her lips and capping it. She clears her throat before answering, “No. No, definitely not.”
Relief floods my chest. “Was he ever your boyfriend?”
“No, never.” She shakes her head. “He, Delilah, and I all met freshman year. Initially, we were assigned to be lab partners in one of our science classes, and then with our degrees being similar, we had all the same classes throughout the years. Naturally, we grew close and became friends. But Quinton . . . Quinton’s a very closed-off person. He never really makes an effort to make new friends. I think Dee and I are the only friends he has here,” she says, her voice softening with pity.
I nod. “He’s got it bad for you, though.” I state the obvious.
She lets out a groan, looking at me with agony. “That’s what Delilah says.”
“But you don’t have feelings for him?” I confirm.
She bows her head in shame, shaking it.
“Does he know that?”
“Yeah, I told him once a long time ago that I didn’t have feelings for him. He took it hard,” she confesses. “I just feel so bad. I didn’t want to be mean to him or embarrass him further, so I told him we could still be friends. But I’m scared I’m leading him on by doing so.”
I shake my head and reach over the table to place my hand on top of hers, my heart aching for her. She looks wrecked over it. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. You should never feel bad for not reciprocating someone else’s feelings. You were honest with him, and that’s what matters. No one can fault you for being honest. Especially when you were nice to him about it. If he’s the one struggling with just being friends, then it’s his job to walk. He shouldn’t stick around, hoping you’ll change your mind when it’s clearly made up.”
She looks up at me, appreciation in her eyes, but I can still detect the sadness that lingers behind them over the sore subject.
We sit in silence for a moment, my hand still resting on top of hers for comfort. I catch her gaze sliding down to our hands, mine following. A form of intimacy hums between us, even in the middle of the bustling cafeteria.
“Do you have feelings for anyone?” I ask, hoping she might insinuate she has mutual feelings for me, or that she has a boyfriend. Hopefully it’s not the latter.
Her brows pinch and her head tilts to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask, suddenly dying to know the answer.
She shakes her head, a small blush blooming across her cheeks. “No.”
Silence floats between us, and I brush the pad of my thumb over the backs of her fingers.
“Do you think you could have feelings for me?” I ask, suddenly feeling confident after our little moment. She may not have felt it as strongly as I did, but I know she at least feels something—whatever it is—undeniably flowing between us.
Her brown eyes snap up to mine, her cheeks burning red. She bites the inside of her cheek, deliberating, slowly pulling her hand from mine and sitting up straight. “I don’t know if that’s an appropriate question for me to answer when your girlfriend is a few feet away,” she says, nervously looking over my shoulder.
My face contorts in confusion. “Girlfriend?”
What the hell is she talking about?
Following her gaze, I look over my shoulder to find Adrianna sitting a few tables away, her eyes shooting daggers.
I let out groan. “She is definitely not my girlfriend,” I say.
Olivia looks at me skeptically.
I let out a sigh, deciphering how I can gently break down my relationship with Adrianna to Olivia without me sounding like a complete asshole.
“Adrianna is like my Quinton,” I state. “She likes me and wants me to be her boyfriend, but she knows I can’t make that type of commitment to her.”
Olivia’s eyes soften in understanding, and she nods, looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed with how . . .” She trails off, unsure of how to describe Adrianna’s multiple bold, possessive actions toward me. “Comfortable she is with you.”
