Page 75 of Through My Window
I walk around, crouched down, without finding any of my clothes, but what—where are my clothes? They should be somewhere around if we undressed here, or did I undress somewhere else and then come in here? Oh my goodness. I notice an open door to my right to what looks like a bathroom, so I walk in. My clothes are on the floor next to the tub.
A feeling of relief runs through my body. I no longer have to go out on the street with only a boy’s shirt on. I close the door and pick up my white flowered T-shirt, but the smell of vomit hits my nose and makes me grimace.
Vomit?
Did I vomit? Oh Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened last night?
There’s no way I can wear that shirt. The skirt is in no better condition, but I just wash the little bits of vomit off in the sink. I can’t leave wearing only Ares’s shirt and nothing underneath. The damp skirt doesn’t help with the cold, and I shiver again, but I manage to brush my teeth with my fingers.
Yoshi. Oh no.The memory of trying to use him last night pops up in fragmented pieces in my mind. I have to apologize to him.
Walking back into the room, I allow myself to look at Ares again. His naked, white torso contrasts with the blue of the sheets. I stare at him, fighting the urge to throw myself on him and kiss every uncovered part of his body and feel his skin.
Focus, Raquel.
With all the caution in the world, I grab the doorknob quietly, but when I try to turn it, it won’t budge. What? I try harder and it won’t open. I check the knob and realize that it doesn’t have a button to lock it, just a hole where a key goes.
It’s locked. Why?
“Are you looking for this?”
His voice makes me jump. I turn, and, to my surprise, he’s sitting on the bed with his hand in the air, holding the keys. I hate that I like his face so much that it makes me shake. He has an amused smile on his face.
“Why is it locked?” I ask.
“There was a party here last night, remember?” There’s a certain hesitancy in his voice. “I didn’t want anyone to come in and bother us.”
I try to swallow but my throat is dry. “You and I . . . I mean . . . did we, you know?”
“Have sex?” He’s always so direct. “You don’t remember anything?”
There’s a sadness in his voice, as if he wants me to remember something. Feeling very embarrassed, I shake my head. “No.”
His expression turns and he looks disappointed for some reason. “Nothing happened, you vomited, I bathed you and put you to sleep.”
I believe him. “Thank you.”
He stands up, and I feel small in front of him again.
“Open the door for me,” I say. Being alone with him in a room, both of us scantily clad, is too much.
He slips the key into the front pocket of his pants. “No.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he walks to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. What the hell? I purse my lips in frustration, waiting for him to come out. What is he trying to accomplish by keeping me locked in here? I hear the shower. Did he go to take a shower? Is he serious?
I’m desperate to get out of here.
Minutes that feel like years pass before he finally comes back out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. He drops his clothes in a pile on the bed. Droplets of water slide down his abdomen and his wet hair is slicked back from his face. I guess he’s not cold.
I clear my throat. “Open the door, Ares.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “How mature.” He sits on the bed, and his eyes move down from my chest to my legs. I swallow thickly. “I really have to go.”
