The 180

I have always been told that there is a thin line between love and hate. I guess, in theory, it makes sense. You get the same rush sensation, the same blur of vision, the same loss of breath. Love and hate are both extremely passionate sentiments- far away, on the whole, other end of the spectrum from lukewarm and mundanely numb. 

I used to feel mundanely— not numb, but content— while participating in my college classes. I have an immense passion for astronomy and I thoroughly enjoy engaging in each and every class that lends a hand in helping me become the best astronomer. But college is supposed to be for learning, for making sure everyone is on the proper path to maintain a career. Maybe make a few friends. What college is not supposed to be for is meeting an arch nemesis who makes your blood boil at just the thought of him. 

Enter Josiah Peters. 

To counteract my fervent adoration for all things celestial, Josiah is merely here A. because it was a required science for him- a mere stepping stone on his way to becoming a hotshot physicist- and B. to be an absolute thorn in my side. He wears black almost every day. Black jeans, black Duke boots, black flannel shirts. Always clean cut. Always neat. Always put together nicely, in a goth sort of way. He’s a huge contrast to my graphic tees- usually something modernizing horoscopes, my bright denim jeans, with the occasional flare, my beat-up black and white converse, and my wild mane of blonde waves. My cherry red fingernails and lipstick are, quite literally, the cherry on top of my signature look. 

Our participation in class goes hand in hand with our mien. In this case, a book can absolutely be judged by its cover. I’m wide-eyed, ready to learn with an oatmilk latte and a different cookie for every day of the week. When Josiah isn’t falling asleep or maltreating me, he has Air Pods placed inconspicuously in his ears, wild brown curls cascading down far enough to keep one hidden while his head props up on his hand, concealing the other. 

He sits right behind me. Did I mention that? He is constantly “accidentally” pulling a strand of my hair or paper will conveniently end up in my hair and he will inadvertently forget to mention it to me, or even better, “it would just kill him to interrupt my favorite class for me.” Right. It’s petty and childish. And I am not even the slightest bit innocent of being a delinquent right there with him. He’s drug me down with him. One more ill-fated trait I’ve picked up since coming in contact with Josiah Peters. 

Professor Sanchez is doing roll call. I take a bite of my raspberry chip cookie, wiping at a few crumbs that go tumbling down my shirt, and wash it down with oatmilk latte. I return the drink to the corner of my desk. 

“Brooke Hanakin?” 

“Here!” I chime. 

“Of course, Brookie Cookie is here,” Josiah mumbles, leaning up. I slide my hand behind my back, revealing my middle finger to him, which he thumps swiftly. 

I take another swig of coffee. I got two extra shots of espresso today. It’s a miracle my intuition is spot-on.

All the “L, M, N, O” last names are called out. I finish off my cookie. 

“Josiah Peters?” 

“Here,” he basically grumbles. 

“Unfortunately.” I swish my hair and he grinds his foot obnoxiously against the basket of my desk. 

“Please stop,” I say helplessly. 

“Stop what?” He counters, “and by the way, can you please stop junking up the area with your cookie crumbs?” 

If it is humanly possible for eyes to roll all the way to the back of your head, then mine just did. 

“Won’t you do what you do best, put your headphones in, and go night night?” I suggest. 

“That sounds good, actually. I’m tired of listening to you.” What Josiah lacks in charm, he certainly makes up for in audacity. 

“Oh, shut up. You started in with me. I don’t have the energy for you today.” I take another long swig of my latte. 

“Meaning you normally do?? You’ve certainly piqued my interest, Brookie Cookie.” 

“In your dreams, Josie.”

Professor Sanchez shushes us. I feel certain he would have called us out by name if it weren’t for me. Josiah has taken my peace, my maturity, and now he’s taking my reputation- yanking it right out from under me like a magic trick gone wrong. 

I give my best doe eyes to Professor Sanchez and attempt to apologize through them. I hear Josiah yawn behind me. 

Toward the end of class, Professor Sanchez introduces a project for us. My eyes widen as I sit up straighter in my seat. I love astronomy projects. 

“You will list the 88 official constellations with brief descriptions of which stars make each constellation up. This needs to be turned in by Wednesday. On Friday night, you will go outside and chart 10 of those constellations with pictures so I know you did the assignment by actually stargazing, as I intended.” 

I am enthralled. I am busy thinking about the beauty of studying something you are so passionate about when Professor Sanchez pops my happy bubble. 

“I will now call out names, starting on my left, and you will choose partners.” 

He zigzags back and forth, down one aisle, up the other. 

Name by name is called out- people claiming friends, acquaintances. I don’t have any friends in here, so even though I’m an overachiever, naturally I don’t get called. 

Until Hell froze over. 

“Josiah Peters.” 

“I pick Brooke,” he says and I can feel his long finger effortlessly pointing at me. 

What in the- 

Professor Sanchez has the nerve to smirk as he marks us down as partners and skips over me to the next student. 

“Can you believe that?!” I huff after spouting out the entire length of events that unfolded in class to my dormmate and best friend in the whole entire world, Elizabeth Driver. She has the nerve to laugh. 

“I’m not laughing, Lizzie! This is serious business. He’s affected my college experience, my mental health, my sunshine vibe, and now he’s quite possibly going to affect my grades and ultimately, my future career!” I feel myself being way too dramatic, but I can’t seem to reel it in. 

“Slow down, drama bomb” she giggles, “all I’m saying is… there’s some serious sexual tension in the air and I’m gonna need you two to work that out.” 

“Oh,” I double over, and gag. “You almost made me throw up my cookie.” 

“Okay,” she flips a page in her book, “we’ve officially crossed the threshold of dramatic and have wandered into downright ridiculous territory.” 

I rub my temples. “I suppose I reek of adolescence from sitting so close to him.” 

“Whatever. Don’t talk to me again until one of you has made a move” she says, tucking a strand of red curls behind her ear and smirking impishly, eyes glued to her book. 

“You really don’t have to be here. I can just do this by myself and you can smack your name on it and claim it as half yours.” I offer Josiah a way out to relieve both of us as I stare blankly at the screen of my laptop. We decided to do assignment number one at a nearby Starbucks, much to my relief because that means I get to drink round after round of coffee. I should’ve brought a flask of whiskey to spike it with. 

“And what kind of man would I be to let a girl do all the work?” I can’t seem to sense any sarcasm in his voice as I’d expected. But Josiah referring to himself as a man is hysterical. 

“Do you really wanna know my answer to that? Besides, I’m perfectly capable” I retort. 

“I do, actually” he replies coolly. 

“What?” 

“I do want to know your answer to that.” 

Alright, well he asked for it fair and square. 

“I think it’s funny that you called yourself a man. I think you’re actually a twelve-year-old stuck in a grown-up body. I know you chose me as a partner just to have extra one-on-one time to vex me. Or to ensure you got a good grade since you clearly don’t care about the class or quite possibly anything in general whereas I’m extremely passionate about astronomy and you constantly deride me for it.” 

He blinks a few times before huffing out a laugh. 

“You’re wrong” he scoffs and then stands up and walks off. I think he’s going to take me up on my offer to do the project solo until he turns and makes his way up to the counter. I roll my eyes, take an unreasonably large gulp of my coffee, and revert my focus back to my open document. 

I’m typing away furiously about Alnilam, Mintaka, and Alnitak making up Orion’s Belt when Josiah returns and drops a pastry bag down beside me. He plops back down in the seat right beside me. 

“What is this, a peace offering?” 

“I guess you could call it that. I just call those things cookies” he says, taking a sip of his own drink. I consider this for a moment and decide to accept. I don’t know his motive, but at least I get a free cookie. I peek inside the bag. 

“Well… thank you,” I say, softening my tone. But what I’m really wondering is how he knew Tuesday is my double chocolate chunk day. Had to be a lucky guess. 

An hour passes by. Then another. Before I know it, three hours have flown by ironically enough. I figured this little clandestine meeting would drag, but Josiah has been nothing but tolerable. When the assignment is finally completed, I shut my laptop and begin to pack up. I want another coffee, but I know I have to be up early for class tomorrow so I opt for a hot chamomile tea instead. Josiah pays for it right out from under me and then proceeds to follow me to my dorm building, carrying my laptop bag. It irks me that I can’t read what his aim is, although he insists it’s because it’s getting dark and I shouldn’t be walking the streets alone. 

“Bull. What’s your actual reason, Josie? You couldn’t do anything to protect me that I couldn’t do myself” I laugh, trying to keep it lighthearted because while I’m baffled, I do want to be polite. 

He laughs at this too, and it seems genuine. And I am dumbfounded. His laugh is… not a bad sound. 

“Can you go one second without making a snide remark to me, Brookie Cookie? I’m trying to be nice here” he says, suddenly dropping my bag to the ground gently and swiftly taking my cup from my hand, and placing it on the ground next to the bag. 

“Hey! What-“ I begin, but he cuts me off by placing a hand on my hip. I want to slap him away, but I’m surprised when my body betrays me by shooting goosebumps all the way down to my sacral area. 

“Shh, will you just hush and be still for a minute? I wanna try something” he says, his voice gentle, but husky, and I’m stunned silent, surprising myself by obliging. I can feel my eyes widening in anticipation when he cups my chin in his hand, scanning my face for consent. My body once again betrays me by granting it to him. He tilts my head up towards him and the next thing I know, his lips are against mine. My eyes widen further as I stare at him in disbelief before my stubborn mind gives up and my bodily urges take over. I close my eyes and give in, kissing him back. It’s a blur. Our lips move together when my teeth catch his bottom lip, biting gently. He lets out a sound that I don’t hate in the slightest, and then he deepens the kiss. I react immediately by sliding my hands up into his dark brown curls, tugging ever so slightly and I’m rewarded with another soft sound escaping his lips, right into mine. 

I’m not sure how long we kissed. It felt like seconds. It felt like ages. All I know is when we pulled away, I saw stars. It suddenly dawns on me. I’ve just kissed Josiah, my arch-nemesis. We stand there staring at each other for a minute before he breaks the painful silence, perplexing me even further.

“That was even better than I imagined it’d be.” 

“Wait,” I manage, “you mean you premeditated that?” 

“You have no idea” he smirks. 

I know my eyes have to look as big as flying saucers. I can’t even seem to find words.

“Well…” he grins impishly, “goodnight. See you tomorrow.” 

And just like that, he’s gone- making his way back to the boys’ dorms and leaving me outside my dorm room completely and utterly mystified. I almost forget to grab my laptop and tea before stumbling inside like a drunkard. 

After absentmindedly washing my face in water as cold as the sink could possibly produce, I fumble into my t-shirt of a cat floating through space and matching sleep shorts and slide into my bed, staring directly up at the ceiling. 

I can feel Lizzie’s eyes piercing me from her adjacent bed. 

“Um,” she begins with a slight giggle, “so, what happened?” 

I know there’s no escape route here. I’m like a cornered animal and I’m positive my guilt-ridden face has already given me away. 

“Weakist” comes my quick, jumbled response.

She bursts out laughing. “WHAT WAS THAT?” 

“You heard me,” I huff, “we kissed. Josiah kissed me. I kissed him back.” I pull my blanket over my head. “I don’t know what came over me” I whine. 

Instead of the dreaded “I told you so”, all I get from Lizzie is a delighted giggle and a puckish “it’s about time”. 

Friday rolls around and my phone buzzes, just as the sky is beginning to get dark. 

It’s a name I can’t quite get used to appearing across my screen. Josiah. 

Hey, come outside 

I don’t know why, but the urge to look pretty suddenly kicks in. I primp my hair, throw on a sapphire shirt reading “blame it on my horoscope”, and decide to slip into a black, flowy skirt. I apply my cherry red lipstick, slip into my converse, and am out the door. I don’t expect anyone to be standing so close to the door, so I totter right into Josiah’s arms. 

“Oh, hi,” I say, feeling my face blush scarlet. 

“Hey” he smiles, amused. Then, “let’s go.” 

He leads me around to the back of the boys' dorms where there’s a perilous-looking ladder 

“Right this way,” he motions for me to go first. 

“Ladies first,” I squeak, mimicking his arm motions. 

“Pfftt, come on. If I didn’t think it was safe, I wouldn’t suggest it. I’ll be right behind you.” 

A small puff of air escapes my lips as I go against my better judgment and begin to climb, suddenly extremely diffident about my decision to wear the skirt. I peek below me to find his head facing down like a true gentleman. Huh. 

When we reach the top, I have to count my fingers to make sure this isn’t a dream. There’s a plaid blanket laid out supporting a pizza box and a pastry bag in a shape eerily similar to that of a cookie. There’s also a bottle of cheap wine.

“I thought if we’re gonna spend tonight star-gazing, we may as well be comfortable,” he smiles. 

”Josiah, this is amazing!” I rush over and plop myself down on the blanket. 

“Good! I hoped you would like it,” he says, seating himself down right beside me, so close that the soft skin of my leg is touching his dark jeans. 

We begin charting constellations and things begin to feel easy. The pressure from before has evaporated, and I idly wonder how we ended up here- how we went from pure hatred to this easy flow of conversation, as if we were the best of friends. 

We have just finished charting Taurus, my favorite constellation when Josiah nearly makes my heart drop. 

“Brooke.” 

“Josiah.” And I think this is the first time we’ve ever used each other's names in a non-snarky tone. 

“I have a confession…” 

“Which is?” If I were in a seat, I’d be on the edge of it. 

“I never hated you… in fact, I think I’m…” he rubs the back of his neck, as he smiles down at the ground, then runs his long fingers through his brown curls. He’s inadvertently taking my breath away with each little movement. 

I glance from his eyes to his mouth until he gets the message. 

He closes the space between us and presses his lips back up against mine. Oddly enough, it does not feel weird this time. I move into him, taking it upon myself to deepen the kiss this time. I carefully slide my leg over him, maneuvering myself into his lap. Sparks shoot all through my body as his arms wrap around me, all up and down my back, and his tongue finds mine. 

My hands return to his curls and I use this to my advantage, pulling him slightly back for a moment. 

“I think I feel the same way,” I half-whisper, feeling his smile as I join our lips again. I catch his lip in between my teeth and tug gently, feeling him shiver at my touch. 

It hits me all at once that I don’t hate Josiah Peters. I never really hated him at all… I had the feeling confused with something just as passionate.