CHAPTER 8

I finished the last of my brownies and reached over to grab my glass and I downed the remnants of my apple juice. Josiah ate his food modestly while his eyes followed my every movement like a hawk.

"You must love those" he pointed at my empty plate with a side smirk "You ate them like you'd never tasted them before".

"You know I like chocolates" I squinted my eyes at him "You just want to tease me, don't you"

"Would I be Josiah if I didn't?" His side smirk widened to a full-blown smile, and then he rested his back on his chair and released a contented sigh.

I looked at Josiah and his food and then back at him again "You don't like brownies?"

 He made a confused face, his eyes darting all over the room and he pushed his torso forward "Uh-" he muttered softly "It's not that I don't like them, they're just- just not really my kind of snack, you know?" he leaned back into the chair "besides, I'm not hungry just yet"

"Then you didn't have to come here or you could've told me and the cook would've gotten you a different snack" I scolded.

"I didn't want to be any trouble," He said, pulling at his hair.

"Why didn't you stay in your room then?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused.

He looked at a loss for words and I could see his veiny arms stretched taut as he pulled at his hair harder, I peered at his face and he was looking at the space behind me. With a sharp swipe and a questioning look, I hit his arm away from his hair and I could see that the tips of his fingers were red. With the amount of time Josiah and I had spent together, I had noticed some of his tells; the sparkle in his eyes when he was excited, the side smirk when he was being mischievous, an open-toothed smile when he was down-right happy, the twitch in his right brow and upper lip when he was upset. Out of them all, I noticed this hair-pulling and I hadn't really been able to place it with an emotion, but looking at him now, he seemed uncomfortable or anxious. About what? I don't know.

I stared into his eyes with an intense, piercing gaze till his eyes left the space behind me and fell on my face. I held his arm- the same arm that was pulling at his hair and I flipped it so that the both of us could see the reddened tips.

"What's this?" I looked at him as I spoke "Are you alright? you kept pulling your hair"

He quickly flipped his arm back and pulled it to his lap "It's nothing, just a bad habit" he looked at me briefly and then reverted his eyes to the ground.

I scooted closer and placed an arm on his shoulder "We are friends right?"

There was an awkward silence and looking at the expression on his face, it was almost like at that very moment, he detested being my friend. My confidence shook a little.

How did we get to this point?

"Yes," he said, his eyes still looking away "we are friends"

I tightened my hold on his shoulder, somehow, it felt like he was dissociating from me "Then tell me what's wrong"

He finally looked up to my eyes and I suddenly wished he hadn't. His eyes were filled with so much anger and something close to hatred, how was I to convince myself that it wasn't directed at me?

"I said it's nothing" he brushed my arm off and stood up "Tell the cook that the snacks were lovely for me" his throat bobbled with a swallow "I'll be heading to my room." He walked out of the dining.

I suddenly felt nauseous, my blood felt cold and my feet, numb. I didn't know what to make of Josiah's behavior. I mean he was literally just teasing me seconds ago. I felt like retreating into myself and just going on without talking to him until he told me what was wrong.

But I was not going to just shrink into myself because of whatever Josiah just displayed. I was not going to be the quiet, tortured girl I had been since my parents died. It was time I stood up for myself... spoke up. Even if it was for something as seemingly trivial as this.

With these thoughts in mind, I got up from my chair and pulled myself out of the table. I stormed out of the room, fully intent on going to Josiah's room to give him a piece of my mind.

I walked briskly through the walkway and when I got to his room, I knocked on the door three times- sharply but not too harshly. I waited for about twenty seconds and then, I heard the lock on the door being unlocked. I waited another ten seconds before I realized that he wanted me to push the door open myself.

I pushed the door open and I walked into the room. Josiah was sitting by the edge of the bed, his phone beside him. His head was buried between his palms, and his elbows were propped on his lap, his bare feet on the ground.

"Josiah" I called.

"Yes, I can hear you Joan" he mumbled from his position on the bed.

I walked till I was facing him, inches apart from where he sat "Did I offend you, Josiah?" I asked.

He raised his head, rubbing his face slowly "Who said you did?" he retorted.

"Your actions make me feel like I did something" I answered "You can't suddenly switch up on me like that, I must've done something. Tell me what it is"

He faced me squarely "Joan. You did nothing. If you did something wrong, I'd say it"

I looked at him, incredulous "Josiah, I am not crazy" I said "You pull at your hair when you are anxious. I am your friend, I care about you, just tell me what's wrong"

Suddenly, his neck snapped erect and he looked straight at me "That's it" he yelled, pointing "That's the problem, just leave me alone"

I had never been more hurt in my life than in that single moment. When my parents died, I had an initial shock and then afterward, a settling pain in my gut that refused to go away. But this? This was a sharp sting straight in my chest. How could he say that my being his friend was his problem? I considered him my best friend, my safe space and he was saying he regretted our friendship. It was like someone gave me something good and just when I had begun to cherish it, snatched it from me and destroyed it.

I took a step back with a swallow "W-what did you just say?" I asked with a voice even I could barely hear.

Apparently, he could hear me because he stood up and tried to lean closer "Joan, it's not-" he swallowed and continued, finding the words to say "That's not-"

"You know what? fine." I said, interrupting him "If you don't want me to be your friend, then why didn't you just stay in your room instead of coming to eat snacks you hate with me and then switching up on me and also, saying the things you are saying? It's like you hate me" The words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"No, Joan" he reached out an arm but I stepped backward "I don't hate you, I could never hate you"

"Even you can't hide the look in your eyes" I blurted "I saw the hate there, is it because I still came here to talk to you? Is it because I braved the sting of seeing that look on your face?" I said "You don't have to make me feel bad just because I came here"

"Joan, I'm sorry" he began "it's not what you think"

"What I don't understand is what kind of game you've been playing so far, pretending to be my friend and all" I chinned up "But it's far too cruel, and in case you think I don't have feelings, I do".

And with that, I stormed out of there but not without catching a glimpse of his phone. He was in a chat.

The head read 'Tony'.