The Coldest Summer✓

Fifty-one

Jeremy frowns when he sees me.

"I don't think you came here to see how I'm doing as if you're not the one who put me here. That would be so fucking touching." He laughs annoyingly.

"Exactly. So no need for you to flatter yourself," I reply crossly, pushing my way toward the worn-out, metallic chair.

We sit down after a brief moment of nothingness.

"You haven't changed a bit, Kira Jones," Jeremy taunts; he reclines back in his chair like a crown prince on the throne, and his bored gaze stays on me. He then sighs deeply, placing his cuffed hands on the table without moving his body from stillness. "I really liked you, you know. I swear I did. There's something about you that I can't seem to find anywhere else and maybe that's why I liked you that much," he says in a very calm tone of voice, a smile dancing in his eyes.

"Oh, what a grand way of expressing your liking, huh? Well, I didn't. And even if I had a tiny bit of consideration for you, it all died when you resorted to such lowly and cowardly tricks!" I snarl at him, hardly paying attention to the guard glaring at us.

Jeremy clamps his one fist, and his jaw tightens in the process.

"I'm curious about one thing," he says and draws himself forward to have a closer look into my eyes. I suppose. "Did you even see me as a human being, Kira Jones? Because no one sees me as one, apparently. They all think I'm a beast with no feelings—even my own parents. And some even say I'm incapable of loving anyone, which is a total bullshit." He grits his teeth and color vanishes on his face.

I swallow tightly, unsure where he's heading with this... outburst? Confession? I don't know what it is.

"What's really the problem with you, Jeremy? What makes you think that people around you don't care about you, while you're the one who pushes them away with your behavior?" I nearly yell, for he constantly blames others for his own misdeeds.

His family, his peers, he simply finds no comfort in anyone close to him. He sees them as enemies and I never understood why. Well, I'm not sure if I'm here to understand the psychology of my assailant or not, but he surely looks pitiful to me.

Yeah, I'm probably foolish for being curious about his psyche.

He's a monster. He has no heart. Maybe it's what I should be thinking of.

"You're just like everyone else, Kira, so stop pretending as if you care!" he snaps angrily, a very sudden shift of his composure. "I thought you were different! I thought you'd understand me! But no, you're just like them!" He's almost enraged, too much hate scintillating through his inundated eyes.

No, this guy is not okay.

"I did like the guy I saved from the swimming pool!" I snap back. "Yes, the prankster who laughed so hard at my baffled face when I learned it was just a silly prank to draw my attention—I did like him. The guy who sat for two hours watching me teach the kids how to swim, and even offered to help, that's the guy I liked. You were wonderful, Jeremy. If I didn't know your true colors, I could've said you were simply amazing. I could laugh hearing you singing out loud in that messy voice and say he's great."

"Kira..." He stammers, surprised, if not taken aback. His jaw flexes in a fleeting moment, and I guess some kind of remorse washes over him, but for how long it can stay I don't know. Like a confused Autistic child, he rubs his hands together while hovering for something else to say, only to end up muttering, "I-I did like you."

"The fuck you did," I retort, laughing swiftly at how amused his statement renders me.

"I still like you, Kira! I love—"