Enmity (Empathy - Tome 2)

ØNE

Joshua was a little bit tipsy. But just a little bit. He had gone for drinks with a few friends from college, and meant to be back in his room in time to study for the next day's test, but ended up staying far too long. Maybe that was why it was so hard to find the keyhole. "Shit," the boy muttered, yet still aware that he was supposed to be silent as he fiddled with his keys. He didn't even notice that the key currently in between his thumb and index finger was one that could only be useful on his bike's lock, let alone that light was slipping through the crack under the door, meaning that his roommate wasn't asleep yet, and the door probably unlocked anyway.

"HOLY CR-" the boy yelled suddenly as the door jerked open in front of him, but soon enough, two hands were gagging him, bringing his voice to a low hum.

"Shut up, dude!" Tyler whisper-yelled. "It's past midnight, do you want us to have problems with the concierge again?"

Josh shook his head, eyes wide open. His heart was still beating a hundred miles a second as both boys stepped into their room and Tyler closed the door behind them, then taking a seat at his desk. Josh plopped on his bed with glazed eyes, watching as his best friend hunched over his school books, the pages lit by the glow of the desk lamp just above his head.

"Are you studying?" Joshua slurred.

"Yes, I am."

"Why? It's... past... midnight..."

"Yeah, and we have a test tomorrow, remember? But I guess you should sleep, since I barely understood you with all that yawning."

"I'm not tired," Josh retorted.

"But you sure as hell won't be able to learn anything in that state."

"In Ohio, you mean?"

Tyler dropped the pen he had been writing down notes with and turned around on his chair, glaring at Josh. "You're drunk, is what I mean."

"Oh," was all Josh could let out before losing himself in a laughing fit that sure wasn't contagious. Wiping tears from his eyes, the boy sat up, bringing his body closer to the desk. Closer to his friend. "You should laugh. That was funny."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "I don't want to laugh. I want to study. So if you have nothing else better to do-"

"Relax, dude. I'm sure you know all this," Josh whispered, and it was meant to be nice, and encouraging, but the boy wasn't sure if that sentiment had gone through because all it received as an answer from Tyler was another sigh, and the sound of his pen scribbling in his notebook.

Josh let out a sigh as well. Why did he drink that much? He knew he shouldn't have. The boy closed his eyes, rubbing his eyelids with his palms as if it would help him feel more awake. When he opened them again, Tyler was still in the same position, bent over his books and papers, focused on his reading. Josh's eyes wandered in the room. He was sitting on his bed, on the left hand side of the door. In front of him, another bed, Tyler's, and in between them, his desk and some shelves on which books were lying or standing. His curiosity sparked, Josh stood up and grabbed a blue book lying on his own, far away from the others. Josh's fingers traced the title softly. Sleeping Beauties.

"Have you read it?" he asked, and Tyler offered him yet another sigh, dropping his pen on the desk, visibly annoyed.

"Have I read what?" the boy turned, stretching his limbs before walking up to his closet, fumbling for his pajama bottoms.

"This," Josh answered, holding the cover up so Tyler could read. But the boy didn't look up, facing the other way as he changed his clothes and climbed into bed. "Sleeping Beauties," Josh insisted, "by Owen and Stephen King."

"No, I haven't, Josh." Tyler pulled the cover to his chin, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. Why couldn't Josh understand his cues? "Can you turn the lights off when you go to bed?"

Josh just sat there, unable to speak for a second, hurt by his best friend's indifference. "Y-you should," he finally let out, putting the book back into place before getting rid of his jeans and t-shirt. "It's very good. It mentions it again. The gift, I mean. Or whatever we want to call it. Telepathy, telekinesis, whatever. It's all in there again. Do you think Stephen King knows? About people like you, like us, I mean? Do you think he's one of us?"

On the other side of the room, Tyler had turned his back on Josh, facing the wall, eyes wide open, hoping against hope that his friend would just shut up. Not that he didn't want to speak to him, or that he was mad at him or anything like that. He loved Josh more than anything. But he just couldn't stand this specific conversation again. Because he didn't have the guts to tell him that this power, this gift, well... he was slowly losing it.