Page 8 of The Night We Met

“Shit. It’s Brandon.” Liam gets out. “Said he’s going to the gym to make sure we have a spot.”

Rolling out from under me, Liam finds and pulls on his clothes. Watching him tuck in his semi sends a rush of heat flooding through me. I will myself to snap out of it. It’s just a dick. My eyes travel back up his body and see him smirking at me. I realize I’ve been caught.

“See you at the gym?” I deflect as smoothly as possible.

Will he kiss me on the cheek? A high five? An awkward wave? It’s not like we’re now dating after being friends for years. We’re just testing the waters. Seeing how this arrangement plays out.

With a nod of his head and a quick, “Yep,” Liam heads to the door.

And with one hesitant awkward head nod and a half wave, he leaves my room. I flop back on my pillows with a huff. This is what I didn’t want to happen. It shouldn’t be awkward with Liam. This should be easy. Just sex.

The problem with just sex is that as women, we’re ashamed when we enjoy it and a liar if we say we don’t. Is it bad if I enjoy sex with my best friend? I mean, I don’t think we would be the first friends to cross that line.

Kamryn

It’s the next day. Sparring right after having sex should’ve been awkward around Liam’s teammates, but it was oddly easy. I chose to spend the rest of the night alone and to get acclimated to my dorm before orientation. A few things needed to be tweaked before my roommate arrived. Mainly getting rid of the smell of sex.

I’ve just finished getting dressed when the door opens. The butterflies swarming in my stomach as I realize it’s Sarah has taken flight.

Do I sit on my bed? Stand and greet her like a hostess?

The door flies open and a tumble of red hair flows in the room. A girl with a cute button nose and dark hazel eyes survey the room before landing on my awkward form.

Walking over to the empty bed and plopping a suitcase on her bed, she turns around to face me once again. “Kamryn?”

“That’s me. And from the key you used to come in, you’re Sarah?” God, could I be any more awkward?

We’ve chatted so much online and now that we’re faceto face, I’m stumped on what to say. Thankfully two people, who I’m guessing are her parents, follow in behind her.

“This place is cute. A few pictures, an area rug, and some curtains will make this place homier for you two.” A woman I’m assuming is her mom chimes. “You must be Kamryn. I’m Erica and this is my husband, David. Sarah has been gushing about you and we just knew you two would have the best year.”

“Mom,” Sarah scolds as her ears go red from embarrassment.

It’s nice to know mom’s follow some sort of handbook.

“Do you guys need help?” I ask. I feel awkward just standing around while they’re about to bust their butts bringing Sarah’s things up here.

“Oh, no sweetheart. You do not need to help us. Sarah has a few more things to bring up and then her dad and I will help get her stuff set up.”

Before I can respond, Sarah and her family are out the door. With nothing to do, as the welcome orientation isn’t until tomorrow, I decide to take a walk through the city. Grabbing the essentials: dorm key, phone, and wallet; I leave the door to our room open and start my journey.

I’m sweaty by the time I get to the campus entrance. The summer humidity is no joke in the south. But luckily the city is still relatively quiet. I pop into some small business and a record store. My dad loves looking at records. He’s not one to collect them, but seeing albums you grew up listening to in vinyl form is magic. I get lost in the rows of music with the radio from the speakers proving the perfect background noise.

I text a few pictures to my dad. Letting him know the next time they’re down here he’ll have to check this storeout. Before I know it, hours have passed with me wandering around the area the city calls Five Points.

“You ready to go?” I ask Sarah as I tie off the last of my braid.

She spritzes her body with body spray and shakes out her hair. “Yep!”

We walk arm-in-arm down the hall of our dormitory, before pushing out into the early morning muggy sunshine.

“Is it always like this?”

Sarah nods. “Every summer like clockwork.”

My bubbly roommate was raised in Charleston. Her parents are old money rich, which I couldn't tell from her parents' well-worn clothes. Her style is the complete opposite of mine. While I dress for comfort and still manage to highlight the assets I do have, Sarah likes to show off her assets whichever way she can. I don’t fault her for it.

Not only are we opposites in the way we dress, but also the way we look. My light brown skin turns a golden caramel when I’m out in the sun for a long time, like now, and Sarah’s fair skin burns easily if she’s not wearing her SPF, which she is today. My chocolate brown hair with red undertones, differs from her red hair with blonde highlights. While we’re the same height, I have more curves where it counts, while Sarah’s hourglass waist turns heads while we walk towards the basketball arena.

---