Forelsket

I woke up and immediately wished I hadn’t. I stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over mountains of clothes, and immediately emptied the contents of my stomach. I laid my clammy head on the toilet seat and closed my eyes, focusing on how cool the seat felt against my flushed skin. I kept my breaths even, meditative even, and began to feel my body regaining normalcy. As soon as I felt like I could lift my head without retching violently, I slowly crawled toward the vanity. I grabbed a mug and filled it, anxious to have the taste of bile out of my mouth. ‘

As the tap slowly filled the cup I examined my face in the mirror. To put it lightly, I looked like shit. My eyes were puffy and faintly red, my hair resembled a haphazardly built birds nest, and my right cheek was adorned with a bright red line where the edge of the toilet seat had been pressing in. I realized my mug was overflowing and shut the tap off, sliding down its length and slumping to the floor with my back against the sink. I sighed as I sipped my lukewarm water.

I began to remember the events from the previous night, shuttering in disgust as I remembered my run-in with the rapey drunk. I was so lucky that Seth showed up when he did. My stomach lurched again, and I swallowed hard trying to keep down my disappointment. Seth. What a manipulative jerk. I couldn’t believe I’d actually let myself get drunk enough to kiss him back. It was just because you were drunk, I reassured myself as I picked myself off the floor and turned the shower on. It was just a stupid mistake that you’ll never make again. I scrubbed at my skin, trying to remove any trace of him off of my body. I felt disgusting. I felt angry. I felt sad? No, that couldn’t be it. I had a lapse of judgment and only kissed him because I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing. It hadn’t meant anything to me either, and I was going to prove it to him somehow.

I tossed my clothes into the hamper before slipping into a pair of leggings and an oversized baseball tee that I’d acquired accidentally in the dorm laundry room sometime over the past semester. I climbed back into my bed and felt around for my phone, finding it tangled in the sheets. I pushed my damp hair out of my face and unlocked the screen.

I looked over at Gabriella’s bed to see it empty. Now where had she gone? I shrugged and curled up under the duvet, I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when she gets back. I opened Facebook and began to scroll down my feed aimlessly until I noticed an album Annalie was tagged in. First Mixer OF The Year!! was the title and I couldn’t help but curiously scroll through to see if there were any photos of me. I’d made my way through most of the album when I stopped and the color drained from my face. Someone had taken a photo at the exact moment I dumped beer all over Seth’s head. I was mortified, especially once I noticed the amount of likes. How many people had seen me do it? And how many people were talking about it? My saving grace was that the angle of the photograph hid my face, but Seth’s was front and center, his look of shock a weird mixture of priceless and guilt-inducing. I bit my lip and quickly swiped through to the next picture.

There was Seth again, clearly moments after my exit, smiling with the same girl I’d grabbed the drink from clinging onto him, playfully licking the beer from his cheek. The caption read: good ol’ Seth lol. I noticed a comment and clicked to view it. He’s the only dude I know who could have a drink dumped on him one minute and a girl on his arm the next. Teach us your ways before you graduate Seth!

I no longer felt any kind of sympathy or guilt, instead my chest constricted with that same mystery feeling from earlier. “Good ol’ Seth.” I hissed in mock admiration before throwing my phone down onto the bed. This was all a game to him, and I couldn’t stand being the butt of the joke. I needed to get out of that room before I lost my mind and decided to utilize my anger in the painting studio. I pulled my Vans on, tied up my still-damp hair and packed a small bag of supplies and snacks before walking to Wey Hall.

On weekends all the academic buildings were locked for safety purposes. Art students however were given access to Wey by scanning their I.D. cards so they could work outside of class. There was only one door that had the needed card swipe, and as I made my way to it I realized I still didn’t know where my card was. I groaned. I walked to the front of the building and sat on a ledge near the staircase to the parking lot. I’d decided to wait to see if anyone I knew would show up and let me in.

“Do you need a light?” I looked up in surprise to see a vaguely familiar guy making his way towards me. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and handed it to me.

“Oh, no, thanks but I don’t um…” my voice trailed off in embarrassment. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Regardless, he was undeniably attractive; dark complexion, full lips, and caramel colored eyes that sat behind thick-rimmed glasses.

His eyes lit up. “Oh, my bad. This is just where everyone goes to smoke I assumed you did too and just forgot a light.” I laughed nervously assuring him I was instead just a girl having an existential crisis. “My name’s Adam by the way, I see you around on the third floor sometimes.”

“Keelyn,” I said handing him back the lighter. He took it and pulled a pack out of his pocket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it in between his lips. He looked down at his cigarette as he exhaled and then at me.

“Do you want one? It might mellow out your nerves a little bit.” I bit the inside of my cheek, deciding ultimately to take him up on his offer. He handed me the one from between his lips and then lit a new one. I examined the cigarette between my fingers before following suit. I coughed out a cloud of smoke and he laughed.

“I haven’t really ever smoked before,” I confessed. He took another drag and smiled.

“You don’t say.” I smiled faintly. “Did it calm you down?”

“Not really,” I laughed some, “especially because menthol is disgusting.” He laughed too and we sat in silence for a moment as he leisurely blew smoke rings and I slowly put my cigarette out on the wall under me.

“Well I’m sorry I couldn’t help you out.” I looked over at him with a sheepish grin.

“Having someone to bring me back down to Earth actually helped quite a bit. I’m sorry us meeting couldn’t have been under more interesting circumstances.”

“Well I’m going to be at art crawl, so if you come out and find me we can pretend it never happened. I’ll have a non-menthol on hand just in case.”

“Okay,” I bit my lip to try to hide my eager smile. “Just one condition.” He raised an eyebrow and waited. “Could you swipe me into the building?”