“Do you want to stay here?” Skylar looked at me and I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I was young at the time and wanted to stay like that for as long as possible.
“I wouldn’t rather I do anything else.”
And with that, I started a new chapter of my life.
“You’re so wasted,” Skylar whispered in my ear as the grass slicked my converse with sprinkler remnants.
I giggled, running a hand through my hair. A goofy grin appeared on my face; my tongue felt immobile as I searched for words amidst my vodka-drowned throat. “I...I am so...not.” We burst into spontaneous laughter, about what, I would never know, but at that moment in time, there were only two things to think about: the lack of alcohol in our hands and how we were going to last the 30 feet to our dorm.
“Shh-shh,” she rested her hand, along with the weight from her body, onto my shoulder and I immediately stood still. “We need to shut up,” her eyes widened in seriousness. I felt my gut sink; her words heavily affected my heart more than usual, thanks to the drinks. “Someone might hear us.”
I drew a breath in. “But...we’re surrounded by plants.”
“Plants are alive, Angela!” My eyes widened to match hers. At the time, it made perfect sense. The plants were alive, therefore able to hear us. Man, if we were caught drinking again, we would definitely be kicked out. I had three more years before I was legal; Skylar had one.
“Oh my god; they might be able to tell,” I whispered back, urgently trampling the grass as we staggered through the yard.
“Tonight...was...wicked.” We began sprinting to the front of the dorms, stumbling over the stairs. The glow from the inside of the doors threatened white-hot pain on our eyes, but we slammed our sides into the doors nonetheless.
They were pull-only.
We both groaned in synchronized pain, forgetting how to open the doors. We pulled on the knobs, our hand-eye coordination lacking, and then groaned again. “The doors heard us, dammit! Didn’t I tell you to stay quiet?” She harshly whispered.
“No...no, man; dude, my parents are gonna be so pissed once they find out.”
“Find out? You’ve been shunning your parents since you moved in with me; bro, there is no way they are going to find out.” I clicked my tongue in disagreement.
“Well, the fucking doors found out!” I jiggled the door knobs one more time.
“Ma’am,” I heard a sweet voice come up from behind me. “Ma’am, I believe that you dropped these.”
Turning, I was met with the hottest chest in the world. I’d seen a lot of chests, so that was saying something. There was something about this body in front of me, though, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. I felt an immediate draw to him; he smelled more masculine that a freaking Abercrombie and Fitch shop.
Then again, those shops always smelled like girls’ perfume, but there was just something else. He smelled like the woods, freedom, and something else...maybe just pure masculinity. He had on a dark green hoodie; when I looked up to his eyes, I swear I could see flecks of green in his brown irises. His expression crinkled with care as he gently took my hand, palm wide open, and folded my fingers over the keys he handed me. God, I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face. He had light brown hair that danced over one eye, falling just to cover enough so you didn’t know what he was thinking. He was definitely a pretty boy, his eyes angled up, wide and seemingly larger than any other guy, and his mouth forming the perfect O below his high cheekbones.
“Uh...” it felt like the oxygen was stolen from my throat. He was hot.
“How can I get to the tree from here?” He had a light English accent, my heart stopping as he blinked his long eyelashes in my direction. Tree? Wait, what tree?
“There’s one over there,” Skylar turned his shoulders to face the great oak in front of the dorm building.
“No, that’s the wrong one. I think I’m lost...I guess that’s what I’m known for.” His young tone overruled his laugh and persisted to push worry into my mind. Where was he from? What tree? Who was he?
“I’m Angie. Gwendolyn Moria Angela Darling, to be exact. Bro, if you’re lost from your...whatever, you can stay with us.” I looked over at Skylar to make sure she was okay with him staying. She nodded. “It’s late, anyways. And the doors...” Skylar and I began cracking up again. He looked at us, not laughing, but smiling with a boyish grin that made me feel at home.
“Thanks, Gwendolyn,” he kept smiling. I forgot anything else that was on my mind as he helped me open the door and head up to our dorm.
In the dorm, there were two beds, one for Sky and one for me. We managed to stagger across the floors to appear into our respective rooms, dizzy and out of consciousness temporarily every few seconds. I remember the first time she had let me move in with her. I was in high school last year, but fed up with my parents; I constantly ran away and evaded them. When college days came, I attended the same school as her and we kept living in the same dorm.
“Hey, what’s-your-name,” Skylar called out from the bathroom.
“Peter,” I spun around to see him behind me again; it seemed humanly impossible that he got here that quickly.
“Yeah, Peter! Peeeeteeerrrrr!” She began singing before I could hear her voice muffled, probably because she fell onto her bed.
“Do you go here, Peter?” I spun around and led him into my room, bouncing on the bed. I instantly regretted it; my head spun in pain and I slowly began falling to the floor.
“Gwendy!” I felt my head rest on his warm chest as his arms enveloped me. “Dear Lord, Gwendolyn, get a hold of yourself.”
I giggled. “I’m exhausted,” I nuzzled my head further into his chest; he smelled amazing and was warm- at the time, that was all that mattered. I giggled again. “You called me Gwendy.”
“Peeeetahhh...” I heard Skylar whisper to herself as she got into bed. I laughed into his shirt, clutching the fabric.
“Gwendy sounds a bit odd. Angie sounds too informal.” His chest vibrated as he spoke and he set me down on the edge of my bed. I continued to wrap my arms around him.
“Wennnndy...” Skylar began to sing again.
“Sounds like a bird,” I laughed and we fell onto the pillows. Peter let out a perfect bird’s call, whistling through his teeth.
“Go to sleep, Wendy.”
He began to stand, but I didn’t let go. “Don’t leave. Sleep here.”
“But you’re a girl,” he whispered. I felt him go lax, though, next to me. He slowly laid down by my side.
“Damn straight; I’m a girl.” Some may blame it on the alcohol, but I swore that I was under some sort of magic as the guy I met less than ten minutes ago wrapped his arms around me and I fell asleep in his arms.
© Copyright 2016 Kathryn Thorne. All rights reserved.