“At the beginning of the path behind the stadium, close to the theatre parking lot.”
“I’ll be right there,” he says and then the call ends.
Minutes later and much faster than I expect, I hear footsteps approaching quickly, and I turn my head to see him running toward me, no crutches in sight.
“You couldn’t find them?” I ask.
“What?” He pants, out of breath.
“The crutches.”
“Didn’t have time. I came straight here from my office. That would have taken too long.”
“How am I going to get home?”
“Shit.” He puts his hands on his hips. “It’s really coming down. It’s probably not safe to use them anyway.”
He stares down at me as the snow falls around us. It’s unusually silent, making my racing heart sound louder in my ears.
With all the snow and the few lights on campus, it’s surprisingly bright enough to make out all his features. His amber-brown eyes are intense as they search mine. Is this real? Is he interested? I’ve only had this rush of feelings for one other person. I momentarily wish I wasn’t wearing a hat so he could tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I can feel my cheeks heat at that thought, and I drop my head in embarrassment.
He reaches out his hand, gently crooking a finger under my chin to tilt my head up to look at him. “Are you hurt?”
I absentmindedly rub at the ache in my chest at his words.
“Wh–what?” I stutter, refusing to look away.
“Your ankle.” He breaks eye contact to look down at my boot.
“A little,” I lie.
“I’ll carry you, if that’s okay?” he asks cautiously.
I nod, feeling like this must be a dream.
“I’d feel better if I could get your verbal agreement,” he says, smirking.
“Yes, you can carry me.”
Then he slides his big arms under my back and knees, picking me up bridal-style as I wrap my arms around his neck. He moves slowly along the path, and my body jostles with each step he takes.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he continues staring ahead.
I look up at him. “Better now.” My voice is a whisper.
He tilts his head toward mine as he slows his pace. Our faces are inches apart as he speaks. “I’m glad you called.”
Not sure how to respond, I place my head against his neck and focus on my breathing. In and out. Each inhale smelling of woods, falling snow, and something else familiar that I can’t place.
“I’ve got you,” his voice soothes as he pulls me tighter against him. The path back to my apartment isn’t long, and I don’t want this to end.
There’s something about the way he’s carrying me. Something comforting about the way his arms feel holding me. And for once I don’t think about my hang-ups, instead focusing on the way I feel cradled safely in his arms.
——————
When I leave for class the next morning, I open the door tomy bedroom and a piece of paper flaps from the motion. Was someone in the apartment?
“Hello?” I call out, but there’s no answer. I can see that my roommate’s door is open, which only happens when she’s gone. Looking around my room for a weapon, I grab a dictionary and hold it in two hands like it’s a bat, swinging it wildly each time I turn a corner in the apartment. When I’m satisfied that I’m alone, I walk back to my room, drop the book, and tear the paper off the door.
