my door right now?
The banging continues and I stand up. I make my way toward the door, stumbling a little. Definitely still drunk, I see.
“What?!” I scream, throwing the door open. I’m surprised when I see Amelia’s eyes looking up at me slightly frightened. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell… well I did, but I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“It’s okay,” she tells me. What is she doing here?
Wait, why am I asking that question inside of my head? “What are you doing here?” I ask out loud.
I take in her appearance. She’s wearing jeans and an oversized hoodie. Her hair is up in that messy bun I love. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she says, her words barely a whisper.
“Really?” I ask, hope spreading through me.
“I’m not heartless. From what I gathered from your texts you got into a fight, clearly you were bleeding,” she says, her hand reaching toward me. She touches the spot on my face where I assume the blood is now dry and I flinch. He must’ve gotten a good hit. “And then you just said you were going to bed. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Not going to bed with a concussion and all.”
“He didn’t hit me that hard,” I joke.
“Still, I wanted to see for myself that you were good,” she says, and I can see the worry in her eyes.
I bring my hand to her cheek. “How did you know I was home?”
“You said you were going to bed. I assumed you’d sleep on your own. I hoped I was right.” This brings flashbacks of our conversation about sleeping with other people. Hopefully, this helps her believe me if she didn’t.
“Well, you were. Here I am,” I tell her. “Do you want to come in?” I ask.
She looks behind her suddenly like she just realized where she was. I know she’s trying to make sure no one else knows she’s here. I wish she didn’t care about who sees us together. “If you’re ashamed of anyone seeing you with me, you can just leave,” I tell her, dropping my hand and stepping back.
“Wait,” she says, and I stop in my tracks. When did I get so dramatic? “I didn’t know where your room was.”
I look at her, confused. “You seem to have found it without trouble,” I tell her.
“I had to ask one of your teammates where you were,” she says, and I instantly get what that
means. The girl who fears anyone thinking there’s something between us came searching for me. In the moment, she didn’t care who saw her or what they thought about us.
“Really? You asked someone for me?” I ask in disbelief. “And you weren’t ashamed of even saying my name?”
“I was more ashamed of the clothes I was wearing when I walked through the raging party,” she says with a smile.
I take her appearance in once more. “You look better than all the girls in there,” I tell her.
She shakes her head and I laugh.
“So, do you want to come in and check out where I live?”
She sighs. “Sure. Why not?”
Extending my hand to her, I lead her inside of the room. There isn’t much in here. Just a bed and drawer to hold my things. Everything’s neatly organized. I think I felt bad about making this place messy when my brother kept it so pristine. It’s a nice change from the chaos in the house, so I kept it up.
“So this is where I live,” I tell her.
“What happened?” She asks, instantly sitting down on my bed and looking like she belongs there. I don’t mind that sight.
I sit down next to her. “What do you mean?”
“Why did you get into a fight?” she asks, cutting straight to the chase. I thought she was going to ask me why I’ve been ignoring her but I guess the answer to that one is pretty obvious.
“The guy punched me first,” I tell her the same thing I think I told her earlier.
She turns to face me and I follow her lead. “He didn’t punch you for no reason,” she says knowingly.
I smile. “I stole his shot.”
“His shot?”
“Yeah. He had a drink in his hand. The shot song was playing and I didn’t have one. So I took his and apparently that pissed him off,” I tell her, laughing.
She gives me a serious look. “That’s not funny.”
“He thought the same thing when I laughed after he called me out on it.