The Post-Concert Rush

Part 2

It was a week before a private number called me. I'd put the sim card of my broken phone into my old one as I couldn't currently afford to repair or replace it. I'd just gotten out the shower and was about to go to bed when my phone starting buzzing meekly. It was a very old phone.

"Hello?"

"I was calling about a raincheck," a familiar voice teased, and my stomach flipped uncomfortably.

"Raincheck for when?" I asked before there was a knock at the door downstairs.

"Is now okay?"

"Is that you at the door?"

"Yes. Is that you walking towards me?"

"No! That's my-"

"Hi, I'm looking for Emma?"

"-Roommate!"

"Emma! Someone is here for you!" I could hear her my roommate and best friend yell for me from downstairs.

"I'm on the phone with her, she said it's fine if I just go up," I could hear the grin in his voice.

"I did not!" I groaned, leaping forward to lock my door, wanting to get changed out of my pyjamas before he saw me.

"First door at the top of the second flight of stairs, alright thanks..." He was talking to my roommate again as he hung up the phone. I threw mine on my bed as I pulled on a mustard jumper, stepped out of my pyjama pants and into the not-that-dirty jeans on top of my laundry basket when there was a knock at my door. I lunged forward and opened it as calmly as I could muster. He was wearing skinny jeans and a baggy tee underneath his knee-length coat. His collar was turned up around his neck and his hair was windswept.

"Hi," I said breathlessly as he stood in my bedroom doorway.

"I don't think your roommate has any idea who I am," he grinned, letting himself in.

"She doesn't listen to music much to be honest," I shut the door behind him and turned to see him looking around, at the posters and photos on one wall and the extensive collection of books on the other two. "So... Did you want coffee?"

"Sure," he didn't look at me as he ran a finger along the book spines. I left my room soundlessly, unsure of whether or not to close my door I decided to leave it open a smidge. Closed enough to not see inside but also open enough for him to not think he had total privacy in my room. I ran as quietly as I could down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen and hurriedly made some coffee as my roommate watched from the doorframe.

"So, who the fuck?" she asked, and I blushed.

"I met him at the concert last week," I whispered. He couldn't hear me, but I whispered anyway. Diana squealed and came closer to hear more.

"How? What happened? Did your eyes connect during your favourite song? Was he sweaty and all over you?"

"We met after. In a diner. I accidentally ran into him and he walked me home because it was dark and my phone broke," I answered quietly as I poured the coffee.

"Did he kiss you in the doorway?" She whisper-hissed at me.

"No D, that only happens in movies. Now let me make sure he's not going through my stuff!"

"I hope he finds the condoms I stash there," she joked with a grin and I turned on my heel at her words.

He was sat at my desk when I nudged my door open with my foot. His coat was laid neatly on the bottom of my bed, and he was looking at my papers.