Muffled voices sounded, then the door squeaked open. When I opened one eye, John's girlfriend was standing in the doorway, mouth open, and a look of disbelief on her face. I was still half asleep and what was happening wasn't registering in my brain.
Next to me, though, John shot up like an arrow, sprinted across the room and touched her arms. "Listen to me first," he pleaded emphatically. It ought to have counted for something that he was clothed.
Still, she ripped her arms away forcefully, whirled around, hit her sneaker-covered toe on the doorframe and cursed, but let him follow her outside, instantaneously dropping the futile attempt to pull the self-closing door shut behind them. The suite door slammed before John's room door fell shut. Deafening silence settled over the room. Not even muffled voices were to be heard. I had sat up in the bed by then and the events of the last minute slowly set in.
God. It looked bad. It looked like her boyfriend had hooked up with me. Fuck. I wasn't a homewrecker. I was not my mother. This very second, John's girlfriend was probably accusing me of being a selfish bitch. I knew I would have in her position.
How did I get here? Awareness of the scope of the situation crashed over me like a tsunami wave. It had begun as a harmless crush, but the stakes had become so much higher. I had ruined everything. We had ruined everything.
After a couple of minutes, I forced myself to get up, got changed into my clothes from the night before and left John's room. I didn't want to be here when he got back, or worse: when they got back, so I jumped out of bed, not saying hello to Devin and Zach even though their doors were cracked. They had been spectators to the whole ordeal, no doubt about it. When John's door closed behind me, Devin stuck his head out, called out to me, and looked at me in wonder.
"Not now," I pressed and almost choked up, quickly making my way outside. I took the back exit of Ross where I leaned against the wall, chest heaving, and pulled out my phone. I had several unread texts from Liam, but I ignored them for now and instead called Jessica (speed dial #4).
"Grace, thank God, I was worried! Liam called me this morning and told me about that guy at the party. Are you okay?"
"Not really. Can I come over?"
"Why aren't you already? Get over here now!"
***
As soon as she flung the door open, she crushed me in a tight embrace, then let me enter and sat down with me on 'my' bed. She asked me a dozen times if I was okay and what exactly Rugby Guy had done. I reported everything to her and assured her I was fine, physically. Her eyes threatened to spill throughout the whole story.
"That bastard!" she sniffed and made my own eyes water, too.
"I can't believe people like that roam free on our campus," she croaked and pulled my head onto her shoulder. A single tear slid down my cheek and she began to gently rock me back and forth. "Should we call your dad?"
"I don't think so. Nothing he could do about it anyway."
"What about your Grampa?"
"No, I think it's okay."
My nose was smushed against Jessica's shoulder and my voice sounded muffled as part of it disappeared into her navy sweater. It was a beautiful winter day outside. The sun cast its rays between the branches of the leafless trees in front of Jessica's window and made the slowly melting snow sparkle wondrously.
"Where was Liam, anyway? I thought this was at Brooker," she asked, still working to wrap her head around the scene.
"Bathroom. And then I sent him away."
YOU ARE READING
What I Should Have Done ✓
Romance|*| Ambassador-featured |*| 2022 Bootcamp Mentee |*| Grace Bellamy knows exactly how her junior year at a prestigious New England liberal arts college will go: good grades, an established social niche, and a clear vision for the future, all to stay...