Ever So Slightly

I pull myself up as I hear the hotel room door bang shut, and leave the bedroom, ruffling my damp hair and yawning widely. William turns to look at me as I walk in.

He seems apprehensive.

I give one of those early morning smiles, and make my way over to where he’s standing against a kitchen counter top.

‘Do you have anything to eat?’ I ask, coming to a stop in front of him and cocking my head to one side.

‘Not really,’ he smiles apologetically. ‘Um…there’s pop tarts, peanut butter, some bread, a banana…uh.’ He rifles through a couple of cupboards and emerges with a packet or Oreos. ‘Oreos.’

‘Mmmm,’ I grin, taking the box from his hand and turning to stand next to him. ‘Thanks.’

He chuckles to himself.

‘Well, just veg out for breakfast, yeah? And we’ll go get something decent for lunch. Do you want me to go get some clothes off Vicky for you?’

‘Well, I figured I’d just wear yours, if that’s ok,’ I say shyly.

He smiles. ‘That’s fine, take what you like.’

We stand in silence for a while, him staring ahead, occasionally looking down at me, and me shoveling down Oreos like I hadn’t eaten in a week.

Well, a day.

Which I hadn’t.

I look down guiltily at the now empty box in my hand. ‘Um, William?’ He looks at me. ‘I think you’re all out of Oreos…’

‘Y’think?’ he says, grinning, and poking me in the side. I squeak loudly and jump away to the left. He laughs at my reaction and does it again, before catching hold of me and tickling my sides.

I suppose I could mention that I’m extremely ticklish. There was this boy in my old design tech class at school, who found that if he poked me in the side - very much like William had done - I would jump a mile and make a stupid noise. Obviously, design tech was never the same after that, and I had to move seats to get any work done.

In literally zero seconds, I’m laughing like a hyena and doubled over William's arms, his hands still tickling me furiously. I wriggle violently and break free, running over to the sofa back, preparing to vault over it.

But suddenly Will is there, and I’m leaning over the sofa back as he’s tickling me - laughing almost as hard as I am. In an attempt to break free again, I end up rolling over the sofa back and on to the cushions, legs waving in the air like a stuck pig. I flick a look behind me to see Will vaulting, as I had intended to, over the sofa, landing next to me deftly. He continues to tickle me as I fall backwards, and we’re both just laughing and laughing.

I don’t know when it’s been this easy for me to interact with someone.

His fingers slow to a stop, and we both stop laughing as I realise that he’s actually on top of me, propped up on his arms, and staring down. My heart starts pummeling in my chest as he lowers his head ever so slightly - I can smell the coconut shampoo in his hair again, and the homely smell of his natural body odor that I love so much.

I’m going to put that in a bottle so I can smell it all the time.

No wait, that would be stalkerish.

His eyes flicker over my face and his lips just part, and I feel sure I know what’s going to happen - but he blinks, sitting up on his knees abruptly and casting his eyes around.

‘Um…’ he starts as I close my eyes and try to regulate my heart rate. ‘Why don’t you uh, get dressed and meet me in here in a minute. I just need to talk to Gabe, then we’ll go get lunch…’

‘Uh huh,’ I nod, eyes still closed. I can feel a lump coming to my throat as though I’m about to cry. He stands up and walks slowly from the room and out into the corridor, looking back at me as he closes the door.

Why is it I feel like I’ve been rejected?

I get up shakily, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth and looking up as I walk to the bedroom.

This is a trick I’ve had implement a lot - had a lot of experience with you might say. It’s the best way I know of stopping yourself from crying - only, it’s best not to be looking at someone when you do it as they usually think you’re rolling your eyes at them. When you’re over-emotional like I am, it’s important to find ways to stop yourself short of doing something you’ll regret - crying in front certain people, punching a wall, taking the pills down from the shelf - you see what I mean. And right now, I really can not be doing with reapplying my eye makeup.

As I approach Will’s wardrobe I relax my eyes, the lump now gone. I open the doors and squat down again, picking through until I find a pair of black skinnies with black button-down calves, a very pale gray t-shirt, and a chequered scarf type thing. I climb into the clothes, throw on the leather jacket from yesterday and leave the room, slipping my feet into my own shoes.

My mood is not altogether that sunny. And why? Is it just because a guy didn’t kiss me?

How stupid do I sound?

Do I even like him like that - or is this just another quest for an ego boost?

And boy, would this be a boost to my ego.

I frown, repeating the words ‘ego boost, ego boost’ in my head over and over, though I knew that it didn’t matter how many times I said it, I wouldn’t really believe it.