He couldn’t imagine what they could possibly have to talk about, if school was apparently off the table, but quiet sounded nice, so he nodded. She smiled and took his hand, pulling him through the lobby. He started to veer toward the front door, but she tugged him further into the room, toward the stairwell. It wasn’t until they reached the second floor of the dorm hall that he realized she might have a much different “quiet place” in mind than he did, and he stopped short.
She paused when he did, looking back with feigned innocence at his conflicted expression.
“Um…,” he began, completely unsure of where the rest of that sentence was going. He had never been even close to a position like this, and he was so far out of his comfort zone at this point, it was merely a tiny flicker of light at the end of a long tunnel full of warm beer, loud music, and dancing 20-somethings. “I’m sorry. I, uh… I think I should be going, actually,” he said.
Amber pulled away like his words slapped her in the face, and her perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up beneath her blonde bangs.
“Sorry,” he said, taking advantage of the distraction of her shock to reclaim ownership of his hand and step back into the stairwell. “I’ll see you in class,” he added over his shoulder while she stood frozen in the middle of the lobby, as if she had never experienced rejection in her life and hadn’t the faintest clue how to respond to it.
Taking the stairs two at a time before Amber had the chance to wake up from her stupor and come after him, he glanced at the clock on his cell phone. It was long past the time he was used to taking his pills, and he was beginning to feel the need for the calming agent. Whether it was the result of the bass pounding through his nerves, the extensive and unwelcome touch of his classmate, or simply the late hour sneaking up on him, he was anxious to get back to his room.
Sorry, Mags. Living will have to wait for the morning.
As he pushed open the door from the stairs on the first floor, it stopped short, hitting a small woman in a short, sparkling dress.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, squeezing his way through the available space in the doorway, looking up in mild irritation when she didn’t make any effort to move out of his way.
She was standing behind the doorway, staring at the pictures posted on the wall from the building’s tenants, and she didn’t appear to notice the force of the door shoving her aside. After a brief glance, Jacob realized with a jolt of some emotion he couldn’t quite place that it was the same girl he had shared a dinner with the previous evening. He thought back over that night, searching his memories for a name.
“Hey, Jenna, right?” he asked as he finished squeezing into the room and closed the door behind him.
She turned her glazed eyes to him when he said her name, and a bright smile broke across her face. “Hey!” she exclaimed with more volume than necessary, pointing a finger in his face. “It’s... sad... kitchen boy,” she decided.
He chuckled, appraising her inebriated state. “Well, most people call me Jacob,” he shrugged, “but I suppose that works, too.”
She laughed too exuberantly at his small joke and stumbled on her high heels, falling into him a bit before straightening herself out.
“Whoa, there,” he muttered, steadying her by her shoulders and trying to meet her distracted gaze. “You alright?”
“Mhmm,” she mumbled with a sleepy smile.
“Alright,” he chuckled, unsure of whether or not to be convinced by her incoherent mumble. “Maybe we should get you back to your room,” he suggested, remembering that she lived on the floor above him. “Does that sound good?”
She nodded with a small groan. “Yes, please,” she said, clutching her purse and her jacket to her chest as she followed closely beside him.
As they turned toward the door, a stocky man with thick, black hair gelled into an immovable state came around the corner with two drinks in hand.
“Hey, babe, sorry it took so long,” he said, walking up to Jenna and handing her one of the cups. Eying Jacob with a suspicious gaze, he asked, “Who’s this guy?”
Jenna mumbled something unintelligible as she sipped her new drink, so Jacob interjected.
“Oh, uh, I’m Jacob,” he said, taking a small step away from Jenna. “Sorry, I didn’t realize she was... with someone.”
“Yeah, she is,” the man snipped, slipping a possessive arm around her and pulling her toward him by a hand on her hip.
“Sorry,” Jacob repeated with a blush. “I was just gonna take her home,” he explained.
“Yeah, well I can do that, thanks,” he retorted. “C’mon, babe,” he said to Jenna, giving her a quick kiss on the top of the head as he turned them around, toward the stairs. Confused by the change in direction, Jacob stepped forward again.
“Wait, hang on,” he said. The man huffed out a sigh and turned back to Jacob with an impatient eyebrow raise, keeping his arm around her waist. “Doesn’t Jenna live in Morgan?” he asked, wondering if he may have misheard her when she told him what dorm she was in the other night.
“Uh...,” the man paused, shaking his head as he thought of an answer. “No,” he decided.
Jacob thought back to the night they met, clearly remembering her saying she lived upstairs. “I’m pretty sure she does,” he stated a bit more firmly.
The guy rolled his dark eyes, letting go of Jenna’s waist to step a little closer to Jacob. In a slightly hushed tone, he said, “Look, dude, I’ve been laying ground work with this chick all night,” he nodded over his shoulder at Jenna as she swayed sleepily to the music and sipped her drink.
Jacob appraised her for a moment, then turned back to the man, who raised his eyebrows suggestively. With sudden understanding, Jacob’s gut gave a sickening twist.
He let out a disbelieving sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, and the man just stared at him impatiently. “You can’t be serious.” He shook his head. “She can barely stand up,” he gestured back to the girl, and she punctuated his point by stumbling on her shoes again and clutching onto a nearby chair for balance.
The man gave him a wry smirk. “That’s alright. She won’t be doing much of that.”
His gleaming white teeth were starting to look like perfect little targets.
Jacob’s pulse rose, the heat in his chest no longer attributed to the other bodies around him, but to something else, something deeper. It writhed in his stomach and the burn of it radiated out of his gut, tingling out into his arms and causing his right hand to clench into an involuntary fist.
He ground his teeth down and took in a slow, deliberate breath through his nose, letting it out and trying to calm the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.
“I think I should take Jenna home,” he spoke each word calmly and firmly, trying to convey with his eyes that this was not a request.
The guy’s smirk grew wider and he broadened his stance and crossed his arms. “And if I say no?” he asked playfully, stupidly thinking this was a game he could win.
Jacob’s lips twitched up in spite of himself, and he ground his teeth back down, taking in another deep breath before any other body parts decided to act on their own accord. With firm control, he spoke with careful articulation, “I would advise against that.”