“Riley!” Brian’s fingers tangled in the girl’s blonde hair as he smothered her face in his groin. “Get out!”
I retreated, slamming the door shut and backing away until my spine cracked against the opposite wall. Slumping to the ground, I hugged my backpack to my chest and buried my face in the canvas material. What the heck was going on today?
Ignoring the unpleasant grunts originating from my room, I sat in the hallway and did homework. Almost half an hour later, a shadow crawled over my lap, accompanied by a sweet, fruity scent. The familiar perfume warmed my chest, and I raised my head with a shy smile as I met a pair of bluish-gray eyes.
“Hey, Riley, what are you doing in the hallway?” Bethany stood over me with hands on her curvy hips and a warm smile on her lips. Her flaxen hair tumbled around her shoulders in easy waves as she towered over me.
Her light eyebrows arched, reminding me I had yet to answer her, and I blushed as I pointed at the door to my room where Brian currently groaned like a dying walrus. Mortified, I dropped my hand and fiddled with my notebook.
“Did he seriously kick you out again?” Disgust colored her face as I nodded. “Ugh, ew. Come on, you’re studying in my room.”
As one of my floor’s Resident Assistants, Bethany was a junior and lived at the end of the hall with the second R.A., Sharon. I met her at the beginning of the year when she addressed the host of freshman moving in, but our friendship didn’t blossom until a few weeks later.
I had run out of cleaning supplies since Brian had forgotten to replenish our stash, and it was his turn—which meant my turn—to clean the boy’s bathroom on our floor. Hoping to borrow toilet bowl cleaner, I’d knocked on her door and stammered my way through the request. She’d happily obliged and even helped me clean when she discovered I was covering for my roommate.
Ever the social outcast, I was skittish. But she determinedly weaseled her way past my awkward insecurities and we became fast friends. To be honest, she was my only friend, but since I had spent most of my life without any friends—ignoring those stemming from my imagination, of course—it was an upgrade.
“Seriously, Sharon is gone until after dinner, and I’ll be studying, too.” She offered me a hand, her painted nails shiny under the fluorescent lights.
“I don’t want to be a bother—”
“It’s no bother.”
Her sincerity broke through my polite reservations, and I hurriedly gathered my belongings before accepting her outstretched hand. She pulled me to my feet, and I hooked my bag over my shoulder as Brian released an obnoxiously moaned curse. Grimacing, we shared a look of abhorrence before she squeezed my hand and led me down the hall to her dorm room.
Unbeknownst to her, my focus zeroed in on our clasped hands, and my face erupted with embarrassment. And shame. If Ms. Janet ever found out I’d let a girl hold my hand, I would be in so much trouble, even if the touch was nothing but platonic.
Of course, it wasn’t personal. Bethany was pretty, maybe even beautiful, but I had never viewed her as anything more than a friend. In the back of my mind, I figured I would eventually find a girl I liked romantically, but so far, it hadn’t happened. Whether it stemmed from my crippling social anxiety, my general wariness over such notions, or my complete lack of interest in anyone, I didn’t know.
Plus, Bethany had a boyfriend. He was tall, athletic, and muscular—the exact opposite of me. And I was much too shy to even contemplate looking at her with that type of affection. The thought made my skin itch.
After waiting the appropriate time so as not to offend, I pulled my hand free of her loose grasp, eyes downcast in case she sent me a weird look. Normal people didn’t mind casual touching. Normal people enjoyed hugs and hand-holding. Normal people didn’t get panic attacks at the thought of entering a girl’s bedroom.
Try as I might, I was far from normal.
Hesitating on the threshold of Bethany’s room, I chewed the inside of my cheek as my heart rate kicked up two notches. My sweaty palms gripped the straps of my backpack as I contemplated making a run for it before it was too late. Then I remembered Brian’s gross grunting, and I shuddered.
“Riley?” Bethany stood in her room, hands clasped in front of her. She smiled gently, waiting patiently as if she knew exactly how difficult this was. Maybe she did. It wouldn’t surprise me.
She was the most thoughtful person I had ever met. She never moved too quickly to touch me. In the moments I couldn’t handle physical proximity, she would pull away with kind understanding. I never read disappointment or judgment on her face when I acted outside the norm of acceptable interaction.
Maybe it was her psychology major or an innate knowledge of how to interact with people, but she always knew how to act with me, even when I had no words to explain my shortcomings. I was lucky she was my first friend. I had no idea how to socialize, yet somehow, she put up with me.
My anxiety lessened as she waited for me to make my decision. After reminding myself it was okay to have friends and be their rooms, I stepped over the threshold. I had never been in a girl’s room before; even when I asked Bethany for cleaning supplies, I waited in the hall. Ms. Janet would skin me alive if she knew where I was.
“You can use the beanbag chair, if you want. I’ll be here.” Bethany pointed first to a large pink beanbag, then to the lower bunk. “There’s pop in the mini fridge if you’re thirsty.”
I chuckled at her use of the word pop, her Midwest upbringing shining through. “It’s fine. I don’t drink soda.” It was one of the many things Ms. Janet forbade me from consuming.
“You want your teeth rotting out of your head, Riley?” she’d say, wagging her finger in my face.
“You don’t like pop?” Bethany plopped onto her pink comforter and retrieved a textbook from her pillow. “I’m so jealous. I could probably lose five pounds if I stopped drinking it.”
I didn’t correct her assumption; it was easier than explaining Ms. Janet’s rules. “Why would you want to lose five pounds?” I asked as I sunk into the beanbag.
Bethany simpered. “Oh, Riley, you’re so sweet.”
Without explaining further, she lay on her stomach, her socked feet on her pillow, and proceeded to read where she’d left off in her textbook. Per usual, I was left confused by our interaction. How was my honest curiosity sweet? I really was puzzled over why she’d want to lose weight. I didn’t think she needed to change a thing. She was the prettiest girl I knew.
We fell into a comfortable silence as I worked on my homework and she studied. The door to her dorm remained open which helped me relax, and I soon forgot about my misgivings on entering a girl’s bedroom.
Time flew by, and before I knew it, Bethany was rising from her bed and tucking her phone into her back pocket. “We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she said, jabbing her thumb toward the door. “Coming?”
Oh, right. We ate dinner together on Mondays and Thursdays. I enjoyed Monday dinners better than Thursday dinners. Too bad today was Thursday.
“Right, of course.” I tucked my books back into my rucksack. “I’m coming.”
We walked down the hall, our elbows brushing every few steps, and I shifted to add an extra inch between us. I caught the side-glance she sent me, but she didn’t comment.