Acquired Tastes

Chapter Four

That evening, Neil found himself wandering around the campus, not wanting to be in his room, but not wanting to see people, either, and finding that they were everywhere now that things were over for the day. He tried the track, the little path through the woods, the road towards the nearest town, but there were people everywhere. He found himself back outside his dorm building, eyes scanning the world around him for where to go next. His eyes drifted up to the roof against the almost apocalyptic sky. He went in and climbed the staircases, finding himself on the creepy top floor filled with long hallways and electric closets. He wandered down one hall and around a corner and found a door. He pushed it open, heavy on its hinges, and stepped out into the damp night air. He stepped out onto the roof, and the door slammed closed behind him, movement catching the corner of his eye. He looked over, eyes falling on someone sitting on the wide, low wall around the outside of the roof. He stood for a second, suddenly aware that they were familiar. Recognizable, even in the dark: Roman, sitting sideways on the wall with his back against one of the higher columns, smoke drifting up from the cigarette between his lips, his eyes on Neil. At first, Neil considered simply leaving; after all, he wanted to be away from people, and there was perhaps no person worse than Roman right now. But, if for no other reason than spite, he felt a resolve to not leave first, not if this was the only place to be alone. Sliding his hands into his back pockets, he strode across the roof towards where Roman was sitting, eyes following Neil, slowly taking the cigarette out from between his lips. He watched as Neil came to the wall and leaned against it, eyes not meeting Roman's. Everything was silent for a long time, Neil's eyes surveying the campus below him from this new perspective, Roman's eyes studying him.

"What are you doing?" Roman asked, finally.

"What?"

"Why'd you come up here? Are you gonna kill me?"

"Maybe not everything's about you, ever considered that?" Neil said, meeting Roman's eyes.

Roman rolled the cigarette back and forth between his thumb and finger. "What's your problem, man? I know I was late that first day, but this is ridiculous."

Neil eyed him, feeling the muscles in his neck tighten. "That's my problem. You can't fuckin admit you've been shit. You're acting like I'm overreacting instead of just fucking apologizing and being better."

Roman stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, leaning his head back against the part of the wall behind him. "Okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you might be kind of a psychopath."

Neil chuckled, playing with his fingers as he watched a student walk past on the sidewalk a ways beneath them. For a moment, he was distracted with that series of intrusive thoughts he always had when he was up high. Jump. It'd be so easy. Would this kill me? What if I just did it suddenly and couldn't stop myself? What would it feel like? Jump. Neither of them spoke for several long moments. Finally, Neil straightened up, giving Roman a sidelong glance.

"Whatever. We don't have to like each other. Can you just try to stop actively sucking as a partner and we can leave it at that?"

"What the fuck, man?" Roman slid his legs back to the inside of the wall so he was facing Neil, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt. "Do you not hear how condescending that is? I'm not the one causing all of this. You're being a fucking dick. You have been since the very first moment we met."

"Is that what it is when someone actually holds you responsible for your actions instead of just wanting to fuck you?"

Roman's eyes narrowed. He tapped his cigarette out on the wall, then slid himself to his feet and glared at Neil. "That's such a fucked up thing to say, Martin," he said, voice so low it was almost inaudible. "Don't ever say that to me again."