I tug on the hairs of the boy I’m kissing. His hands roam my body, rubbing up my thigh to the end of my dress. He circles around to my inner thigh, slowly inching up. I giggle into our kiss. “We have to get inside first.”
He nods, retreating the slightest bit. I push his back against my door, pressing my body into his. He pulls at my waist, practically trying to morph us into one. I gasp into the kiss as he grabs my butt, massaging it. Sober, I’d have cringed and slapped him away. But with all this alcohol coursing through my veins, I welcome the demeaning touch.
I pull back from him. “I need to—key. Door. I’ve got a bed.” He nods as I push past him, dumbly putting the key into its hole. I try twisting it, but it doesn’t work. I jiggle it a couple times. Jumping up and down in a fit, I say, “I can’t get it.” Cory—Conner? What’s his name?—laughs, sliding past me to try to work the knob.
I sigh, leaning against the wall. My eyes wander to the small porch of the apartment next door. A light comes out of the partly opened entrance, just a slice. I wonder what he’s doing in there. I wonder if he got the job. Pursing my lips, I wander the few feet to the edge of my porch and lean on the railing. “Hey!” I shout. Nothing. I narrow my eyes. I want to ask him about his job.
I make my way from the porch leaving Carter to try to get it open. He doesn’t even look up as clumsily try to saunter to Job Boy’s house. Rather than taking the stairs, like good little un-inebriated me would’ve done, I push past the small shrubbery to get to his railing. “Hey!” I shout again.
The door opens with a swoosh, light blinding me. I stumble backwards, almost tripping on the edge of the concrete. I catch myself just in time. The boy—man?—stands in his doorway, annoyance clear on my face. And I should’ve just left it there, but my brain failed to work for me. I klutz my way over to his steps and climb them. We meet face to face at his door. Well, I meet him. He doesn’t move. I rest my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye.
“I am so sorry. About your job. Did you get it? I hope so.” By the time I’ve finished speaking, I’m only inches away from his face. I take a hand and touch his tanned cheek. “How are you so tan? You’re so tan. If you’re Asian, why are you tan?” I whisper.
He raises a dark ‘brow. “Are you drunk?”
“Hold on.” I balance myself on his shoulders, unzipping my shoes. They slide off with a thud, onto the pavement. I look back up at him, grabbing his cheeks again. “You’re kind of cute.”
He grabs my wrists, showing them back at me. “Are. You. Drunk?”
I think about it for a moment. “I don’t think so. What are you doing up so late?”
He sighs. “Alright, let’s go.”
“No! I don’t know your name!” I don’t know Colby’s name either. But I don’t care about Chris’s name.
He stops trying to tug me along. “My name is Calum.”
