Tiel’s response was neither.
She sat back, howling with laughter until tears streamed down her cheeks and she hugged her sides. She bunched her skirt above her knees, exposing her legs and ankle bracelet. I stared at her golden skin, but I couldn’t explain what I found so interesting.
“Normal people don’t say shit like that,” she said. “It’s rude, Sam.Rude.And pervy. You’re a perv. But thank you. It’s nice to know they can still bring the boys to the yard.”
She didn’t take to any of my usual charms, but she didn’t meet me with outrage or disinterest either. The challenge to find and test her boundaries spurred me forward.
“Please. You’re a little pervy, too. You just gave my upper thigh a deep tissue massage like it was nothing, and beneath all that bullshit, you like me staring at your tits. You’d probably like sucking my cock, too.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” she asked. “Very rude. Very pervy.”
I shrugged, working hard to disguise my growing fascination with her. “You like it.”
Tiel rolled her eyes and busied herself with untangling the earbuds. “I’m not responding to that.”
“Because you know I’m right.”
I studied her, taking in her pouty lips, rounded curves, and toenails polished orange. I smiled and met her eyes. Who was this girl and why did I want to learn everything about her?
“Oh honey, your dimple game is fierce.” She handed me an earbud. “Here. Put this in and stop being so pervy.”
“Wait,” I said, gesturing to her phone and pulling mine from my pocket. “Are you getting a signal?”
She shook her head. “No, I never get any reception in this building. I download everything. I don’t trust the cloud with my tunes.” She watched as I toggled through my phone’s screens but couldn’t find a connection. “Is someone going to be wondering where you are? Your girlfriend, or wife, or . . . someone else?”
“Uh, no.” I laughed. “The only people who give a shit where I am at any point are my siblings, and they’ve all taken off for the long weekend. Some earlier than others. You?”
“No, not really.” Her forehead crinkled and she looked back at me. “That’s a little unpleasant, yeah? We could be in here for days, and no one would notice we’re missing?”
“We could just as easily be out there,” I started, gesturing to the elevator doors. “We could be out there for days, and no one would notice us either. People do an incredible job at ignoring each other.”
She touched her hand to my thigh. “That’s a really sad thing to say, Sam.”
I didn’t want my face to register the bitterness I felt, not right now, and I looked away.
Hours passed while we listened to music, and we tried to disregard the firefighters’ shouts echoing through the elevator shaft as they worked to secure the cars.
It seemed like a reasonable path to follow. Better than imagining how many pieces my body would break into on impact.
I grew accustomed to Tiel’s incessant humming and jingling, the way her fingers tapped along with the song. To say Tiel listened to a song was a gross understatement; the music moved through her, and it was overflowing onto me. If I saw her, out at a club or in line at a coffee shop, I’d roll my eyes. Her whole vibe—the bright clothes, ankle bracelets, and nonstop grooving with the beat—I had no patience for that shit. I didn’t believe people could be that happy. But here, beside me, it was different. Tiel was authentic, and though I couldn’t explain how, I liked it.
Eventually, a crew pried the doors open, and informed us we’d be squeezing through the narrow crevice as the car had stopped between floors on its last free fall.
“I’m gonna need you to hustle,” the firefighter said.
Tiel and I turned to each other, and at once we said, “You first.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Would you just fucking go?”
We quickly collected our things, but as we stood, the elevator wobbled and creaked. We held onto each other to keep our bearings, instinctively moving back to the corner.
The doors slammed shut and the car dropped, cutting us off from the rescue team.
“I am going to require a very large drink after this,” Tiel cried, her voice losing its light cadence. “And then I’m never getting in another goddamn elevator again. I’ll only take the stairs, and then I’m going to have an onion ass.”
“‘Onion ass’?” I asked. I glanced to my phone again, willing the service to return. I rarely gave Matt credit for much, but he would have managed the shit out of this situation, and thrown some solar panels on the roof while he was at it.
“Yes,” she replied, squeezing my hand for emphasis. “An ass so round and tight that it makes guys cry.”
