Hush, Hush

When I reached home, I didn’t call out for Chelsea, quickly learning from my previous mistake. But it was also because I had a really strong feeling she was too busy to answer me back. I made my way to my room, glad that I had satisfied my hunger. I striped out of my clothes and put on some pajamas before heading to the bathroom.

On my way, I noticed Chelsea's door was firmly shut and shuddered at the possible things that could be going on behind closed doors. Refreshing hurriedly, I decided to floss since I was in no real rush to go to sleep. I knew it would take me awhile for slumber to hit me, which would surely do me good the next morning.

Stacy’ll be on my case for sure.

I noiselessly retreated to my chambers, failing to notice how Chelsea’s room’s door was now a fraction of a meter ajar. Wandering around aimlessly in my room, I pondered whether or not to just sit in bed and read a book or force sleep upon myself. After three minutes, I chose to try and get as much sleep as possible; whatever helped me deal with work tomorrow.

Feeling my way to my room, I widened my eyes to catch a glimpse of any form of light in this darkness. I knew I should’ve turned on the lights but I would have to get up to turn it off again, which ruins the whole purpose in the first place. I struggled to get under the covers when I finally found my bed. It took me the length of five point six seconds to realize why, and when I did, I jumped out, switching on the light in fear.

My heart slowed down enough for frustration to set in.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked, hitting him with my pillow. He jolted awake, turning around to look at me with sleepy eyes.

“Oh, hey Chloe.” he mumbled with a yawn.

“Don’t “Oh, hey Chloe” me, Brian.” I threatened, putting my hands on me hips. I could see his eyes reverting back to their peaceful state and attacked him with my faithful pillow once again.

“Could you stop that?” he quietly requested. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”

It only infuriated me more. “First you feel me up and kiss me, and now you’re in my BED?” Maybe it was the tone of my voice, the things I said or how loud my voice got, but either way, something finally landed on his empty, sleepy mind.

He flew out from under the covers, slapping his forehead with a groan. “I can explain!”

“Yeah?” I said, not caring about the lie he was probably going to tell me. “Enlighten me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he swore, messing up his already messy hair. I couldn’t help but follow his hand as they went through his sandy hair. They were curly in some places, stick straight in others and I was certain he rarely ever combed it. One particular curl kept getting in his eye and he impatiently swept it to the side.

“Wow, great apology.” I retorted.

“Chloe, shit, I forgot you were here.”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap!” I said before he even finished. I didn’t understand what it was he wanted from me. Was he just the type to make out with his girlfriend’s friends, the kind that slept around and thought it was okay to do it? I might not know how many other friends or roommates of Chelsea’s he made his moves on but I was sure as hell not going to be a cross on his scoreboard.

“I’m not helping my own case.” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath.

How could he think I would believe such a claim? I would’ve been more believable if he said, “Oops, I thought you were Chelsea.” That would at least make me consider his otherwise, implausibly obnoxious lie.

“No, you certainly are not.” I agreed, ticked off. It had only been an hour or two since the concert in the mall, a couple of hours since the lemonade, not to mention him feeling me up. How forgetful was he?

Enough to forget his girlfriend down the hall.

“Look, Chloe. I know we got off on the wrong foot earlier—“

Wrong foot. Wrong hands. Wrong lips.

“—and this right here,” he said, pointing to my now untidy bed, “isn’t really helping. But I’m not lying.” He looked me dead in the eye like he thought he had read my mind about thinking him a liar.

[i[Whatever gave it away?, I thought sardonically.

“I don’t exactly trust strangers that molest people they don’t even know—“

“Oh, God.” He looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. “Would you just give me a chance to explain?" I didn't exactly take fond of being cut off so I grimaced for a few seconds.

"Thank you.” he said when a thin line formed on my lips a few moments later.

“I really did forget this was your room." he started, and it took a lot in me to not roll my eyes. " Before you came, this was Chelsea’s guest room and I used to crash here sometimes when sleeping with her was hard.” he explained, stopping to take a breath.

I widened my eyes, blushing an embarrassing hue that I knew made my hair stand out more. Brian caught on to his slip-up and hastily corrected it.

“I meant she kicks! It’s slightly irritating.”

I stared at him long and hard, taking note of his perfect eyebrows and the laugh lines that were barely visible as he half-smiled down at me.

“Okay, I believe you.” I said after a long pause.

Brian made a face as if he was thinking, “Phew, that simple?” So I crossed my arms, not ready to let him off the hook so soon.

“But that does not explain the morning.”

He sighed as if he were expecting me to give up. “Right. That wasn’t my fault.” He scratched his neck. “I didn’t know Chels had a roommate.”

That was acceptable. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be around. And I was in her room snooping looking about, so it was sort of me signing up for trouble.

“And for what it’s worth, it was Chels’ room.” he said as if he really could read my mind.

I frowned. “Yeah, okay. Apology accepted.” I stubbornly replied, hoping he’d drop it and not ask what I had been doing going in her room in the first place.

After a few minutes of us awkwardly staring at each other, Brian cut the silence.

“So, we’re cool, right?”

I thought about this. It wasn’t his fault but I was still rather wary of him. What if he was just really good at making excuses? I was just going to have to watch him closely from now on.

“As cool as lava.” I replied, before opening my door as a sign that he should leave.

“But lava’s hot.” he pointed out, confusion etched on his face, as he stepped over the threshold.

“Exactly.” I pointedly stated right before closing the door.

A knock prevented me from getting back to my bed. I swung it open. “Yes?”

“Okay, we don’t have to be best friends like now.”

“Good.” I quickly responded.

“But,” he said, putting a restraining hand on the door. “I hope it’s clear that this subject should never be brought up again.”

I figured he didn’t want Chelsea to know, and I guess I kind of didn’t want her to either. We were getting along, there was no reason to get her angry for some small misunderstanding.

“It’s clear.” I assured him.

“Good.” he mimicked.

Right as I was about to shut the door again, I heard him whisper, “Or I might have to intentionally harass you.”

I chose to ignore this statement and went to bed, suddenly feeling extremely tired. That boy was walking bad news, if that was even possible. And I made a mental note as images of clothes and cookie monsters swam through my mind to keep my distance.