My journal is in the bag Ash had taken to the room. While the three of us wait for him to return, I take out my phoneand start typing my racing intrusive thoughts. The catharsis isn’t there, and the thought of finding something small and sharp enters my mind, but I push it away. It’s easier to ignore those urges now that I’ve been clean from self-harm for nearly six years.
I see a text from Lilli.
L: You okay?
C: Yeah, I’m fine.
Lilli gives me a look over her phone and I continue typing.
C: I guess he hates me.
L: Boys are dumb and gross.
We make it up to our rooms, and the level of security feels silly. Maybe it was just that my expectations were blown out of proportion, but from the precautions taken, I thought there would be swarms of paparazzi in the lobby and parking lot, the kind Jennifer Lux experiences.
Our rooms are on the fourth floor out of twelve floors. “Why this floor?” I ask Ash. I’m not going to be the first one to break the silence between me and Eric again.
“I like to keep it random,” he replies. Ash pulls a little cloth drawstring bag out of his pocket, and into his hand pours a set of different-sized dice. I don’t mean a set of cubes. No, these dice are different shapes—one is a normal six-sided die, one is a pyramid.
“Dude, you still have those?” Eric says. I look at him before I think that I shouldn’t, and he’s got a big smile spread across his face.
“Yeah, man, they’re my lucky dice.”
Lilli speaks up for me, “Wait do you guys know each other? Like, before this?”
“Yeah, we were neighbors growing up,” Ash says, pocketing his bag of dice as the elevator doors open.
“I’m so tired,” Lilli says as we make our way down the patterned carpet hallway. “I am so excited to sleep in a big bed.” Well, there goes my idea of asking her if she wanted to hang out tonight.
“Here’s your room, Lilli.” Ash opens the door for her.
“Good night!” Lilli and Ash leave us, and I hear Ash locking the door from the inside. They bid each other goodnight, and I can hear them close the connecting door as the light in Ash’s room turns on from under his door.
I turn, and Eric is holding my door open for me. My knees feel like bones and jelly. “He’s already cleared the rooms,” Eric explains, but I don’t move. “Come on, Stardust, get out of the hallway.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap.
His eyes darken, and his voice lowers. “Do you try to be difficult, or does it come naturally?”
He sounds irritated, tired, and… sexy. Damn it. I walk in.
Eric closes the door and locks the deadbolt, the chain lock, and the handle lock. The connecting door is wide open, and I can see his nondescript black duffle bag on the bed. Does he still sleep in just his boxer briefs when he’s alone, or will he wear pajamas like he did on the bus? How much has changed in five years?
He walks briskly past me into his room. As he crosses the threshold, it’s like he’s finally allowing himself to breathe.
“You have locks on this door as well,” he says. “I’ll keep mine unlocked in case you need anything.”
I remind myself forcefully not to read too much into that. “Fine,” I say, and neither of us move for a moment. Can he feel this tension begging for a spark? He opens his mouth to speak, and I feel my chest flutter.
“Good night, Stardust.”
He closes his door, and I barely breathe, listening to hear if he changes his mind and clicks the lock. I hear him walk away from the door, and I exhale.
While I shower, I imagine my hands are his as soap bubbles glide down my body in little streams and rivers. I imagine it’s his hands in my hair, and not for the first time, I regret that we never took things to the next level when we had the chance. His tenderness, his care… I know he’d satisfy every need. My traitorous brain wonders if he’s awake. I quickly turn off the water, trying to block out the flow of sensual thoughts. The bathroom mirror is fogged up, and the steam permeates into the room.
Did my shower steam creep under his door? Did he think of me in the shower? I hope he did. I hope he falls asleep hoping I knock on that door.
8 – Eric – Now
