Jovie & Bash

Twenty || Hallelujah

I rocked my head back boredly while Bash babbled on about an answer I gave that needed elaboration.

"Alright, so, moving on," he continued, not caring that I was barely paying attention to anything he'd been discussing. "What is the difference between competitive and non-competitive inhibition?"

I resisted a groan, but Greg didn't. Usually he was more aloof than Bash and smoked quietly, unperturbed. Today was not one of those days.

"Jesus Christ," Greg all but snapped. "This has been going on for the past hour. Don't you people ever do anything normal?"

"This is perfectly normal, Gregory," Bash hummed. He folded my answer sheet onto his chest and looked up at the ceiling. "You don't have to sit there and listen."

"Oh, but I do," Greg grumbled. "Every time she's here you two sit around mulling over books and papers and homework. God, if this is what dating a high schooler looks like—I feel sorry for you."

Bash sighed. "Put out your cigarette and take a walk, then."

"No!" Greg huffed stubbornly and dragged on his cigarette extra-long. "This is my house, too."

"You're being a child," I told him, patience running thin. My head hurt from breathing in second-hand smoke and studying all afternoon. Not to mention his music taste was absolutely god awful.

"I do not remember high school this way," Greg continued pointedly, preparing himself for a rant. "I remember getting my first girlfriend, my first job, having my first beer, attending parties, going to prom. What the hell. It hasn't been that long since I've been out and they've turned the place into an intellectual prison."

"No, you just didn't try," I guessed and tossed a glance over the couch. "Some of us are trying to get college credit while it doesn't break the bank."

He scoffed and hid behind his cigarette, but he didn't argue. He simply allowed himself to reblend into the background, muttering quietly under his breath.

Releasing my frustration with a heavy sigh, I glanced down at Bash's face, his lips curling up in a humorous grin.

"You're awful acrimonious today," he commented lightly, eyebrows lifting like he'd finally discovered the answer to a long, unanswered question.

And, well, maybe he was right. I was stressed and bitter from all the extra work I had been doing as an advanced student. It felt like I was constantly weighted down by school work these days. If it wasn't a project, it was a paper, and if it wasn't a paper, it was a four page assignment.

Most of my time with Bash was turning into study dates. That made me feel horrible because I didn't want to burden him with that. He graduated years ago. 

Still, he kept insisting we do it together because otherwise we would hardly see each other. If he wasn't quizzing or listening to me while we sat in his apartment, he was doing it while stacking books. And that wasn't right.

He was good to me. Too good. And, while I had known that all along, it was really sinking in, now.

"Sorry," I told him dismissively. "I'm just tired. It's fine. Keep going."

Bash sat up and tossed the answer sheet onto the messy coffee table. I could tell by his sudden burst of energy that continuing with the study prep wasn't going to happen.

"No, maybe Greg is right."

"—oh, really? No way. I'm so surprised by this, Sebastian. Me? Right about something?" Greg moved the cigarette from his face and caught my eye with his dull ones. "It's been known to happen. Quite often."