“So why you were you an asshole in class the other day?” I ask, pushing air over my shoulder to indicate the passage of time.
Callum ducks his head, avoiding my gaze, and honestly the duality of him—looking like he can murder you without breaking a sweat, his aura taking up more space than his body, voice deeper than the ocean—and being a shy person makes me lose my mind just a little bit.
That could also be the sleep deprivation, though—the hunger for sleep that makes everything seem so much funnier to me, that makes me wonder about him in this odd liminal space that we find ourselves in.
“Ah, I don’t do well around other people. I don’t enjoy people trying to make small talk with me,” Callum says, then winces when he realizes how it sounds. “I find it tiring, being around certain peo
