Yes. I can leave, she will be alright.
What am I even doing here?
I should?—
At that moment, the door closes, and the elevator is riding up. All the way up.
It opens, and there she is, leaning causally in a door frame. Perfectly alright. Slightly messy hair. Just a t-shirt and underwear on.
My jaw drops open—unwillingly—as I take her in.
“Hi,” she says. “A surprise seeing you here.”
I don’t find words.
Stupid.
I am so, so stupid.
“Come in,” she says and tilts her head, pointing me inside.
“I’d rather not,” I bring over my lips. “I just—are you alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks.
“You weren’t in the lectures, I was—“ I begin and swallow the rest of the sentence down. Why am I behaving like a stupid schoolgirl with her?
Boundary.
I have to set a boundary.
“I figured you might need some distance,” she says.
“Me?”
“Yes, who else?”
“I—you cannot do that again,” I say.
“Uh-huh,” she says in a way that angers me. And because I am angered, I find myself again.
“I mean it,” I say in a harsh tone. “You can’t cross the rules. You signed. Rules apply.”
“Okay,” she says way too casually. “Come in.”
“I’m not coming in,” I say. While I’m very curious about how she lives, I don’t have enough recklessness in me to do so. “Monday, 8 am, my office. You will be on time and sober.”
“I have been sober since—the night,” she says.
“Good,” I say, pressing the elevator button to get back down, but nothing happens.
“Yeah, about that,” she says and walks over to me. She steps into the elevator and bends forward to hold her phone to a sensor above the button.
Suddenly, she is so close.
Her scent washes over me as she comes up.
The wild hair.
