Letting You In

Coffee - /3

The next morning the other side of the bed is empty. I am spread over the entire mattress and for a second I imagine Nick staying here was a dream. Then I see his duffle bags. The sheets he used folded on my desk. I grunt and turn on my back. Why did I agree to this again?

I roll on my side to grab my phone and instead find a green sticky note on my nightstand. I yawn, take my phone, and throw it in my lap before I take the paper to read it. sorry I just left, especially after dropping by that spontaneous last night. I'm at practice until 11.30, should be back around then. I'll bring some food to make it up. Just in case, here's my phone number. - Nick

Without wanting it, I smile to myself, seeing now that his hockey stuff is gone. I hope he brings something good and not some greasy things I could get in the dining hall.

I pick up my phone to save his number. It's already 11. Need to shower before he comes back. Liz also sent me a message. I click on it and feel my smile fade. so sorry but can't do coffee today :/ mr. harolds set the deadline for the essay for today. promise we'll find something between class on monday <3

I wanted to see her. I needed to see her and talk about what happened. I can't properly deal with Nick moving in on my own. I need to hear support for my decision from somebody close to me. I was hoping, Liz could take my mind off the fact that I let someone I barely know sleep in my bed. Even if her strategy was making jokes and mocking me.

I save Nick's number and ask Brandon for his air mattress. Not meeting with Liz suddenly makes me self-conscious about everything that went down last night. I'm worried my behavior was wrong. That something happened that wasn't supposed to happen. Even just on an emotional level and it scares me. I don't tell Brandon it's for Nick. I tell him I have someone staying over, tell him it's someone he doesn't really know, that it's an emergency. It feels wrong to lie about it. It felt wrong typing out the message that Nick was staying over, so I deleted it, but this doesn't make it better.

As every morning I scroll through Instagram first, then catch myself. I hate it. Every time I tell myself, I won't continue this toxicity, and yet, even if I delete the app, I download it and act as if I'm not an addict.

I groan. It's 11.23. I lock my phone, keep it in my hand as I climb out of bed. I feel gross in my hoodie and shorts. Should've thought of that before going to bed. Before sleeping in them as if I don't sweat in thick clothes.

I yawn and throw my phone on my bed. From the closet, I grab a similar outfit to the one I'm wearing and head to the bathroom. When I lock the door, I'm frustrated with myself that Nick is already affecting my behavior. I never lock my door. I never take the stuff into my cramped bathroom, usually cause there's not enough space to properly change. It's already tough enough to dry yourself with a towel, changing to me is always a challenge. Yet, I fight against the lack of motivation to even turn on the shower. Sometimes I have those days, and most times I just postpone showering to the next day.

Out of the shower, in clean clothes and with messy wet hair, my phone rings just as I throw the dirty laundry in the basket. It's Brandon. "Hi."

"Hi, it's me. About the air mattress, I'm just leaving for the gym. Is it okay if I drop them off on the way back?"

I sit cross-legged on the bed. "When do you think you'll be here then? Or wait, can you drop them off now?"

In the background, he turns on the indicator. "Sure, but I thought you were meeting with Liz."

"I was. She had to cancel though. Some assignment was moved."

The indicator stops. "Ah, that sucks. If I wasn't going to the gym, I'd say I could stay a bit, but I'm meeting with some classmates"