The Lovers

Heat flushes my cheeks as the alcohol courses through my veins. “She Wolf″ by Shakira reverberates through the speakers in my friend’s basement, and my hair dances in the air as I spin and jump to the beat, my eyes tightly shut. The party is a cacophony of sound and shadows, with the strobe lights offering little insight into the crowd’s size. I relish this sensation—the numbness, the escape.

Suddenly, a powerful arm encircles my waist, drawing me into a firm, muscular frame. My eyes open as I turn around to see the face attached to the body I am currently pressed against. Tall, dark, and handsome are the only words that come to mind when I catch fleeting glimpses of him amidst the strobe flashes.

He leans down to match my height, “I would ask if you are cold, but seeing how hot you look in that outfit tells me otherwise” Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome says in my ear. I smile and peer at him through my lashes, “The seven tequila shots I just took have a tendency to keep warm” I state matter-of-factly. He smirks and stands up straight, his large hands gripping my hips as we sway to the beat of whatever EDM song is playing. I watch him as he stands straight, his eyes slowly checking me out.

A smirk graces his face as he pulls my body closer. It’s clear he appreciates what he sees as I feel something stir within his pants. If things keep going this well, my three-month dry spell will end tonight. “I’m Connor,” he says, staring into my eyes and moving his hands lower down my waist, hiking my already tiny skirt up. We are in the middle of the crowded basement, and even though it’s dark, I can feel the stares from my friends. I may be easy to get into bed, but I still have the respect of not hooking up in front of my friends.

“Avery” I respond, while pulling him to a more secluded area of the house. When we reach our destination, the small kitchenette in the basement, I turn toward him to say something. Suddenly, his lips are on mine and his hands reach down to grope me. I moan out in shock, which only further encourages him more. His tongue sneaks into my mouth and tangles with mine while I reach my arms around his neck. My hands lightly tug his hair while he picks me up and places me on the counter. He wraps my legs around his waist while my lips explore his neck. “I live right down the block” he states huskily and starts attacking my neck the way I was just moments before. I try to respond, but I am so turned on that the only response I can give is a moan and a head nod, letting him know that I plan to take him up on that offer.

Before he can respond a throat clears behind us, causing us to break away from the sudden startle. I peer around Connor’s broad torso to see him, Caleb Whitmore , the absolute bane of my existence, a true pain in my ass. I don’t hate many people but when it comes to Caleb…

“Avery”, his deep voice says flatly as he looks between Connor and I, standing in a confident manner. My previous mood was instantly shot down. Why is he here, who let him in?

I return his acknowledgment with a stone cold glare. “What do you want?” I ask him, no emotion is heard in my voice. I want him gone, out of my sight, first he breaks me and now he won’t let me get any action?

His once–confident stance falters just a bit as his eyes run over me and shift to Connor. “You’ve changed, I see you took my advice.” Is he really trying to converse with me? “I’m sorry, but after everything you did to me, do you really think you have any right to acknowledge me?” I ask, there is venom dripping in my words. I am now on my feet, standing face to face–well, face to chest–looking up straight into his eyes. His eyes held an immense amount of disdain. The flicker of his narrowed gaze was cold and dismissive, as if the issue here was me. To anyone on the outside, there was a palpable tension between us. The atmosphere tightened, an inescapable tension settling between us as the room emptied, leaving only him and me. Unlike our prior encounter, an urgent desire to flee gripped me, a desperate yearning to create distance between us, as though I was a caged animal and Caleb was my captor.

Before Caleb could retaliate, I cut him off, “I mean seriously Caleb, it has been three months, three long and sexless months, and when I finally am about to end this dry spell you come here and ruin it? Are you seriously that repulsed by me that you can’t fathom someone being attracted to me?”, I emphasize my tirade by poking his chest and walking forward, backing him to the wall. Connor is long gone by now, the toxicity between Caleb and I probably scaring him. His hand grabs mine and pulls it away from his chest and he looks down at me. “You always were your sexiest when you’re angry,” he says, the narrowned intensity of his eyes replaced by a proud smirk gracing his face. “I…uh...I..” I stammer, unable to form a coherent thought. Perhaps due to my dwindling liquid courage effects as my intoxication fades. With that, I snatch my hand out of his and turn around, my buzz is gone and I no longer feel like being out.

After maneuvering through the crowd, I finally reach the front door and push it open. As I step onto the street, I hear Caleb calling my name from behind. “Avery, come on, I was just joking,” he shouts, trying to catch up. By the time he reaches me, he’s slightly out of breath. “I’m sorry,” he pants, “I didn’t mean to chase you off, Avery.” Caleb stands before me, his hands on my shoulders as he leans down to make eye contact. He knows my weaknesses, always has. I hadn’t realized I was crying until I felt his thumb gently brushing across my cheek. I despise crying, and now, I feel pathetic crying in front of him. I slap his hand away and take a step back. “You had all summer to fix what you broke, Caleb. I was heartbroken for three months, while you were off gallivanting with a new flavor every week. Yet I still waited for you, I hoped for you,” I state firmly. “Avery…” he tries to speak, but I interrupt, “No, Caleb, just no. You’re too late,” I sigh and walk away.

Tonight marked my final taste of freedom before diving into the deep waters of my sophomore year in college. I would’ve found solace in the fact that Caleb and I are majoring in different subjects—he in economics and me in sociology. But despite avoiding him on campus, I can’t escape the reality that we’re neighbors. Last semester, being a mere 400 feet apart thrilled me, but now I almost regret joining my sorority. Unfortunately, a “really messy and catastrophic break up” isn’t a valid enough reason to get out of the housing contract. So, I embark on the 20-minute walk home. I know Caleb is behind me; I can hear his shoes shuffling. However, he gives me my space. Based on our past, I know he’s not walking me home; we’re just coincidentally heading in the same direction. Yet, I can’t help but feel hopeful that maybe, deep down, he is walking me home. It’s foolish, I know, but I shouldn’t feel this way about him. After all, the only reason he dated me was to get into his frat; there were no mutual feelings between us. To him, I was nothing more than a pledge task—an object to use to gain acceptance from the gentlemen of Lambda Sigma Lambda.

Upon reaching the Delta Delta Kappa house, my feet are numb, and my makeup is ruined from crying. As I head up to my room, I’m grateful for the lack of people in the house. I decide to wash my face before entering my room, just in case my roommate is still awake. After ensuring all traces of my crying are gone, I head to my room, annoyed that my roommate is still up. Not annoyed at her being up in itself, but annoyed because I know that she will want me to debrief everything before bed.

“Hey girl! How was it?” Catalina asks, sitting up in her bed.

“It was eventful, I guess. I ran into Caleb, and things went downhill,” I say, heading to my bed.

“Oh my God!” she gasps, “why didn’t you call? I would’ve woken Carly up to get you!”

“It’s honestly whatever, I’m not really in the mood to talk about it right now, Cat. Are you okay if I turn the light out?” I ask, nodding towards the overhead light.

She nods, and I sigh, switching off the light and crawling into bed. Usually, I’m not excited to sleep, but right now, sleep sounds like the best escape.