“Oh right, thanks.”
She slides a yellow visitor’s pass to me on the counter and I walk to the elevator, ignoring the random stares of some of the girls milling around the first floor.
I usually don’t mind the attention I get on campus, especially from the opposite sex, but today I’m grateful once the elevator door closes and I can stop fake smiling. There’s nothing to be happy about.
I practice a little mindfulness breathing on my way up to Willow’s floor and remember I’m not here to be combative. I just want to talk things through so that I can screw my head back on straight and get some closure. It figures that the door is still closed and locked when I arrive, so I knock twice and tell her that it’s me.
“I’m here. Open up.”
She cracks the door open and sticks her head out like I’m some sort of serial killer she’s afraid of.
“I told you not to come up.”
Freak
“I’ll do anything to get an education.”
“Funny.”
She still won’t open the door and it irritates me. Does she have someone in there? Someone like Aaron?
“Is somebody in your room?” I ask, clenching a fist at my side.
“Someone like who?”
“Like… Scorpio,” I say once I realize that Aaron would have been gloating at the door already if he was in there.
“No, she’s out.”
“Then let me in.”
In this moment, as I stare into soft brown eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses I’ve never seen before, I recognize that I’ve been fooling myself.
I don’t want closure with Willow.
I just want her.
All I need to do is figure out how to give her a reason to want me too.
“I told you to come back on Wednesday.”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
She bends her head sheepishly down, almost as if she’s embarrassed by my observation.
“I usually wear contact lenses.”
“I like them. I mean, the glasses are pretty. With a face like yours, you can get away with wearing them or not.”
My body is vibrating like I’m some sort of drug fiend. Seriously, if she doesn’t let me in this room, I might annihilate someone the next time I go out on the football field.
My baby sister, Linda, watches all these romantic Korean Dramas on the internet and calls them instalove crack. I thought she was nuts for liking that kind of romantic drivel, but now I’m understanding the appeal. Perhaps it really is possible to meet your person and know right away that they’re it.
Willow still stands unmoved in the doorway. How am I going to work my magic on her if she won’t even give me the time of day?
“This doesn’t look good,” I speak lowly so that the entire floor doesn’t hear me.
“What doesn’t look good?”
