Down The Wheelchair Accessible Staircase

DTWAS: 2

CHAPTER 2

Graham gasped and pulled back into the bathroom.  His breathing slowed, he calmed himself, and he pressed his back against the wall.

He did his best to do what he knew best.

He disappeared.

However Jess wasn’t that stupid.

“What – who – what – who are you?!  Why are you here?!” she screeched, slamming her hands over her eyes and dropping to the ground.

Graham yanked his boxers on and took this as his chance to dash out of the bathroom and race up the stairs.

Jessica would later tell me, over a cold mug of coffee somewhere in London, that she toyed with the thought of running straight out the door, and acting like it had never happened.  She would look me in the eyes and say that she often wished she had.

But she didn’t.

No, Jessica poked her head over the counter, and when she saw the half-naked teen sprinting up the stairs, she let instincts, and curiosity, take over.

“NO! Wait! Hey, get back here!” she screamed, leaping over the counter and tripping over her own feet as she chased after him.  Jess craned her neck to keep track of the boy, who had by now reached the top of the stairs.  He paused looking down at her, furrowing his brow, before tearing off again.

Graham had zero idea why the girl was chasing him.  He raced toward the back of the second floor, where if he shifted the one bookcase slightly to the left, he could get to the staircase that led up to the attic, and then-

“Hey! You dropped your sock!”

Shit.

Graham pondered what to do as he rounded the last corner.  Without that sock his feet what be officially bare, and that would make the walking pure torture.  He could stop, get the sock, and kindly ask the girl to leave.  Or he could escape to the attic and pray she left the sock behind.

Graham pulled at the roots of his brown hair before reaching forward to shove the bookcase away.  Escaping was best.

Too bad he was too late.

Jessica rounded the corner to see the boy standing there his hands pressed against the side of the bookshelf, his face contorted in concentration. 

He stopped, looked at her, and whispered, “My sock.”

That’s when Jessica began to doubt her decision.

Her eyes roamed over the boy, taking in his features.  His skin was wet, yet tan, the kind of tan you would get from spending hours in the sun.  His hair was long, horribly long, and a dingy brown.  His face was handsome though, very handsome; a strong jawline, chiseled features, dark brown eyes.  And he was built; his arms and legs were ripped.  He was tall, maybe 5’ 11’’, skinny though, and he looked hungry.

The rest of his clothes were in a pile at his feet.  The stench coming off of them was horrendous, but Jess was just glad he had thought to put on underwear.  The thought of the boy’s naked body made her blush.

Graham studied the girl while she studied him.  Her hair was a reddish-blonde, and her bangs were cut straight across.  It was shiny and straight, and hit below her shoulder blades.  She was not that tall, probably five-foot-three.  She was thin, healthy looking.  Her face was pretty; her eyes huge and blue, with a teeny nose and plump lips.  She was wearing dark, tight jeans, with a light blue tee shirt, a loose white sweater over it.  A scarf hanging around her neck and high, black, knit boots confirmed his earlier thoughts that it was near the cold season.