Page 18 of Cheater and the Saint
We both had class that morning, but we had about twenty minutes to spare.
“The leaves are already changing in some spots,” Saint said, and I wasn’t sure if he meant that for me or if he was talking out loud to himself. “It’s sad in a way.”
“What is?” I sat on the couch beside the loveseat.
Saint moved his eyes to me, and the sun streaming in through the window made the blue of his irises look lighter. “The seasons changing. Time passes us by so fast.” He turned to look back outside. “Here one moment and gone the next.”
Whoa. I hadn’t expected to get so deep so early in the morning.
“Sorry.” Saint offered me a tight-lipped smile. “I get lost in my head every now and then. Some days I feel everything so intensely, like an overwhelming sense of existence. A burden to see the world not as it is but what it will be.”
“So, basically, you need to learn to live in the moment and stop worrying about the future,” I guessed after mulling over his words.
“Something like that.” He smiled again and gazed out the window. “Sometimes, I wish time would freeze. Instead of moving on to one season, we could spend a while longer in the one we’re in. To fully embrace it before having to leave it in the past.”
I understood we weren’t exactly talking about the seasons. I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but I caught the longing in his voice.
I lived my life to the fullest each day. Saint didn’t seem like he did. He spent so much time worrying about things that hadn’t even happened yet; therefore, losing time instead of making the most of it.
“I like change,” I said. “It gives us the opportunity to experience new things.”
“Change stresses me out.”
Saint was extremely philosophical in his way of thinking and how he viewed the world.
“You should be a psych major,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I am.”
I laughed. “Are you shitting me?”
“Not at all,” Saint responded. “We’ve lived together for a little over two weeks and still don’t really know each other.” His blue eyes flickered to me. “That’s my fault. I know. You were right when you said I tend to push people away.”
“Why?”
A sad smile touched his lips. “That’s a conversation for another day. As for now, I need to head to class. And so do you.”
After I downed more of my coffee, I grabbed my backpack and left the dorm. The weird talk with Saint that morning consumed me as I walked across campus toward the Holt building. I’d once thought he was a snob who had major control issues. Maybe he still had those control issues, but I didn’t think he was stuck-up anymore.
There was something sad about him. As if he’d been disappointed by people one too many times.
On my way to British lit, I passed Tayte. He smiled a goofy grin—pretty much a permanent fixture on his face—and waved.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked once within talking distance.
“Nothin’ much,” Tayte answered, walking beside me in the grass. “Me and the boys are hitting the bars on Garrison tonight. You in?”
Garrison Street wasthespot to barhop and pick up a one-night stand or two. My answer was usually immediate with no thought involved. Something had changed.
“Nah, man,” I said, thinking of that sad look in Saint’s eyes for some reason. “I think I’m gonna stay in this weekend and study for once.”
“Cool. Just let me know if things change.” Tayte hurried in the other direction after that, calling after a group of girls holding lattes.
I continued on to class. Getting shitfaced and hooking up was fun, but I needed to spend more time on my studies, too. It was a few weeks into the fall semester, and I’d hardly opened any of my textbooks.
Saint had talked about change that morning, and I felt a slight one taking root in me.
