Fan Fiction ❯ Greek Love ❯ Sugar, We're Going Down ( Chapter 4 )

Aemilia: Um, this one's mine. Unless you hate it, at which point Lenora wrote it. Yeah.

 

 

 

Dammit.

 

Owen sighed and took his kneaded eraser to the page in frustration. A drawing class had sounded like a fun elective. Who'd have known that there would be actual homework involved? But now he needed to have twelve half-way decent perspective sketches by tomorrow. He'd given up on drawing his cramped dorm room- Andy had been playing his music way too loud anyway. In search of a suitable landscape, Owen had taken up position on the front lawn outside his dorm. The old building had an interesting façade and he'd thought it would prove an interesting challenge. Well, it had proven a challenge alright. A grimace twisted his features for a moment as Owen realized that the shadows he'd drawn were not nearly long enough and that the far corner of the building was created by an Escher-like angle. It probably wasn't salvageable. He debated trashing the entire picture, but he still had another nine sketches to go. It would be good to leave room for improvement, maybe if he set the standard low enough the teacher wouldn't be disappointed. It still galled him a bit, but he was too tired to care. With a blackened finger he smudged the charcoal on the page, trying to conceal his error, but it only seemed to make things worse.

 

He was so lost in his failing work that when a voice interrupted his reverie he jumped, dropping his charcoal in the grass.

 

“I think the horizon line is off.” A shadow fell across the page. Owen's stomach tightened; he knew that voice. He looked up, blinking into the sun. Kerry stood there, hands on his hips, gazing at Owen's work critically.

 

“I know,” Owen ground out. “But it's too late to fix it. I'll have to start over.” He flipped the page in his sketchbook and, having relocated his charcoal, started sketching furiously.

 

“Forget that.” Kerry's voice was imperious. “Come on, let's get some coffee.”

 

Owen stared up at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, momentarily forgetting to be careful of his charcoal covered fingers. “You're kidding, right?”

 

“No, I assure you. I have something of a caffeine addiction, truth be told.”

 

“It's not your apparent love of coffee I was questioning- it was why the hell you'd want to drink it with me.”

 

“Aw, don't be so down on yourself, I'm sure you have many winning qualities. Now, come on. I've got a 3:30 class.” He offered Owen a hand up; his tone booked no protest. Owen stared at it for a moment and then hesitantly took it. Kerry hauled him easily to his feet. “We should probably get cleaned up first,” Kerry said reaching out pushing Owen's hair off his forehead. Owen flinched as the strong fingers rubbed a smudge off, and then blushed at being treated like a small child. At least Kerry hadn't made him spit on a Kleenex like his mom used to.

 

“Art is messy work,” Owen choked out, feeling like an idiot- not that he didn't always feel like an idiot.

 

A quick stop by the bathroom, his hall had communal ones, took care of the worst of charcoal dust. He had to scrub to get it off his hands and elbows, and he still had some on his face. There wasn't much to be done about the black he'd gotten all over his clothing, but damned if he was going to go change now.

 

He kind of wished he had later, as they stood in line at the small coffee house. Owen tried to look casual, but he couldn't help noticing the stares Kerry and, by extension, he got. To keep himself from fidgeting he stuck his hands deep in the pocket of his hoodie and stared at the lengthy drink menu. He could pronounce maybe half the stuff on there.

 

“I'll have, a, uh…cappuccino.” It was the first thing he recognized; Owen wasn't a big coffee drinker.

 

“What size?” drawled the obviously bored barista.

 

“Um…medium?” The she rolled her eyes, apparently disgusted with his lack of coffee know-how.

 

“I'll have a chai, supreme please,” Kerry interjected, before Owen could blush any brighter. As Owen fumbled with his wallet, Kerry smoothly paid the girl and grabbed their drinks. He made his way to a table set in the back nook, away from the few other customers.

 

“Hey. You don't have to do that,” Owen said protesting, trotting to catch up to Kerry, “I can buy my own coffee. This isn't a d-” He cut himself off.

 

Kerry was giving him that look. “This isn't a what?” he prompted. Owen just pressed his lips together tightly. After a moment Kerry said, “Don't worry about it. I just want to make up for my rudeness the other day. It was inexcusable.”

 

The apology surprised Owen; Kerry didn't seem like the apologizing type. “It's…okay,” Owen said grudgingly. He was uncomfortable letting the other man pay but didn't want to bring up the incident. Kerry's words from the other night still stung, but he didn't want Kerry to know that. He settled down, leaning back into his seat. The place was a nice one, older and with a lot of kitsch on the walls- pictures of high school sports teams and somewhat tacky memorabilia.

 

“So how're your classes?” Kerry asked amiably.

 

“There're alright.” Owen was ready to stop there, but Kerry looked ready to press further. “I like my writing courses and drawing's fun too. Just a bit nerve-wracking. There are some really good kids in my class. I'm not sure I can compete- you know? But I guess you wouldn't, your good at everything, right? President of your frat, captain of the swim team, honor student. Is there anything you can't do?” That last bit came out more bitter than Owen had meant it to.

 

“You've really done your homework. I'm flattered,” Kerry's tone was mocking, but his eyes were kind.

 

“Not really- but every girl on my floor can speak of nothing else. Seems the only way I can to talk to any of them is to talk about you.”

 

“Ah, yes, the ladies do love me. It's tragic really, I break all their hearts.” Kerry gave a roguish grin.

 

Owen had to laugh at Kerry's exaggerated tone. It was odd, how could he feel so completely on edge and so completely at home at the same time? The knot in his stomach had eased some, but he still had to wonder just what this man, so completely and totally different from himself, wanted from him. Owen was the poster boy for blah, overlooked by just about anyone. Kerry had to have a motive for noticing him now, and Owen desperately wondered what it was. He traced patterns on the laminate tabletop with a nervous finger; he still had charcoal under his fingernails.

 

“Actually, I didn't just want to apologize for that evening,” Kerry said after a brief lull in the conversation. “There was something more pressing I needed to talk to you about. You haven't been to the past few rush events…”

 

Owen gave him a blank look, disbelieving. “I'm not a masochist. You made it pretty clear I don't have a chance. Besides, I don't particularly want to join. I only went as a favor to Andy, remember? God, what kind of idiot do you think I am?!” Owen was getting angry. Kerry expected him to hang on his every word, tagalong like a puppy just because everyone else did. Owen knew the type well; he'd had to deal with plenty in high school.

 

Hands spread in supplication, Kerry said, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What I'm trying to say it, well, I made a mistake. I have been known to do that on occasion. The invitations won't be formally issued until tomorrow, but your name's on one of them.”

 

Owen's blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

 

“I had to exert a little influence, since you hadn't really `demonstrated commitment to the fraternity,'” Owen got the distinct impression that Kerry was quoting somebody, “But you're in. If you want in.”

 

“I don't,” Owen said hotly.

 

They stared at each other for a long moment, dark brown eyes locked with green. Owen's gaze was angry, but Kerry's was something else entirely, something Owen couldn't quite put his finger on and wasn't sure he wanted to, but it made his stomach tighten and his cheeks flush. He looked away first, glancing at his watch as an excuse.

 

“Uh, it's 3:27,” Owen observed. “You're going to be late for your class.”

 

Owen would have been panicking if it was him, but Kerry just smiled a little. “That's okay. I know the professor. But I should probably make an appearance.” He rose gracefully; Owen followed him to the door. Kerry hesitated, holding the glass door open to let a couple of giggling high school girls out ahead of them. “But think about our- my- offer. You would be most welcome in Beta Theta Mu.” Before Owen had time to think, Kerry had leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, the briefest of touches. “I hope you reconsider.” Then it was over and Owen was left staring dumbly at Kerry's retreating back. He watched, frozen, for a long moment and when he finally turned, the barista was giving him a dirty look. He couldn't help but give her a half-smile.

 

The rest of the day he couldn't stop replaying the scene from earlier. Why had Kerry kissed him? It had to be some sort of mind game. He knew joining Beta Theta Mu was a bad idea, an awfully horrifically terrible idea. It would just be a distraction from his schoolwork, an unnecessary stress. He hated parties, the intellectual wasteland that was frat life. He hated Kerry and his smug condescension. Everything within him told him not to join.

 

He could still feel the kiss on his lips.

 

Dammit.