Page 69 of And They Were Roommates

My body sways for the millionth time today. I shove the journal into his chest, gripping the doorframe instead to stabilize myself. “You trapped us in a room together, hoping I’d be able to connect you with some relative? Without knowing if I had one?”

Jasper’s eyes flood with the same naivete I could only dream of having since he drained mine back at camp. “Does this mean you do? Please, will you tell me?”

Weeks of Jasper following me around. Weeks of him trying to get me to like him and steal my trust. Weeks of putting me through the stress of having a roommate. Ofhimbeing my roommate.

This fear. Forweeks.

I’ve let him betray me again.

“I don’t have any family like that,” I spit out, my adrenaline spiking. It overtakes any and all logic that’s been holding me back from letting out what itches on the tip of my tongue—what would make Jasper realize, once and for all, how he hurts me over and over while remaining untouched. “Because that person you’re looking for isme.”

Silence settles between us, the only sentence I promised to never speak at Valentine hanging in the air.

The synapses in Jasper’s allegedly genius brain aren’t getting there, his brow pinched. “What are you saying, Charlie?”

“Sorry that I’m so unrecognizable to you now compared to when we were at camp, but two years tends to change a person.”

His face shifts. First, his eyes, racing as he searches my blazer, my slacks, and my now-sharper face. Then his mouth, which he covers with a trembling hand. He stares at the notebook in his grasp. “But—Wha—Hhh—?”

“Use your words,” I grumble, crossing my arms. “You’re supposed to be good at those.”

“This is an academy for boys,” Jasper says.

“Yes.”

“So?”

“So, things change.”

“Right.” Jasper’s gaze clouds as he looks toward the rug. “Things change.”

“You said you were searching for your long-lost love,” I say.

“I. Well.” His face pales despite its usual constant pink glow.

My expression must look no better. If he believes I’m his long-lost love, then he’s delusional. He spent that same summer writing love letters tothreeothers.

“Why didn’t you say who you were?” Jasper asks so quietly it’s barely audible. “The whole time we’ve been in this room?”

Of course that’s his first question. He could never understand. I pace the bedroom. “I don’t know—why do you think I need a room to myself despite you messing that up for me?”

“You’re a light sleeper?”

I groan. “Seriously, Jasper?! Are you really Rank One?”

Jasper winces. “You like privacy?”

“Ineedprivacy. You know the academy’s motto. It literally hastraditionalin it. You could tell someone. Your aunt. If you do, I could be—”

Jasper clutches my wrist, stopping me in place, his bracelet cold against my skin. “I won’t do that.”

His typical showy self has vanished. All that remains is something so stern and sincere that it shocks me into silence.

I instinctively turn away, blocking my face, and find somewhere else to look. Anywhere else. The last time I trusted Jasper, I got burned, yet my shoulders are already lifting. Maybe I won’t get kicked out. At least, not because of him.

It’s an illogical thought. An impossible one. Especially when this news of him intentionally trapping us in a room contradicts our deal. Has Jasper been giving me this much homework in hopes I’d never finish and fail?

“Were you ever going to fulfill your end of the deal?” I ask him flatly. “Or did you plan to keep us trapped here together forever?”

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