S.M. ✦ Gin & Juice

IV.

Shawn was pacing with nervous energy, jangling his keys in his pocket. Checking the time on his phone, he huffed and unlocked it, making sure that he'd sent her the right room number.

Study Room B038. Friday 5 PM.

It was 5:04. She was late. He had chosen this time specifically because he had an easy out if he needed to leave. Every Friday before a game, he had team dinner at Coach's house at 7 PM, then the whole team left on buses to stay off-campus at a hotel to rest up and stay on curfew before the game. But, this girl, whoever she was, probably didn't know the schedule, so he was free to make up any time that he had to leave with just a little white lie.

He heard the door knob turn and froze. Her head was bowed, shoulders forward, a posture it looked like she defaulted to, when she walked in. He couldn't see her face behind the thick waves of soft brown hair hanging in the way. Not two steps into the room, she tripped over the nearest chair, heading straight for the floor.

Shawn took two big strides and caught her by the shoulders mid-fall. Her head popped up, locking wide ocean blue eyes with him. Recognition stirred, flashing images swimming in his vision. A spilled beer. A wet shirt. Looking back at those blue eyes and feeling the blush bloom on his face.

It was her.

He walked out of the living room, swimming with humanity, as fast as possible. Too many people. He could practically see his worth reflected in their eyes. They only saw what he could give them, what he could bring them. None of them knew or cared about him beyond the material or social value he held.

Lost in his thoughts, he rounded a close corner on his way to the kitchen for something harder to drink. It wasn't until his cup fell out of his hand that he realized someone was there.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" he yelled over the noise of the party. At first, she just stood there, looking him up and down like she wasn't quite sure if he was real. She swivelled her head up to look at him, and he inwardly gasped at her eyes. They looked like cerulean cut glass, so blue and yet so clear that he felt like he could see straight down to their core. It was as unsettling as it was exhilarating.

She still hadn't made a move since he spilled his drink all over her. He took a survey of the damage, which allowed him to stare at her petite body for just a second longer than he probably needed to. She was fucking cute as hell. Where did this girl come from? He realized he was looking at her instead of helping.

His head shot up toward the kitchen, seeing his idiot left tackle walking toward him, "HEY GEOFF!?! CAN YOU BRING ME A RAG OR SOMETHING??"

Shawn turned back to her, noticing her shivering. Why won't she say something? He pleaded with her to talk to him with his eyes, softening his gaze like he would with a baby deer. She felt so cold, but he could see the sweat starting to collect on her brow.

Geoff finally returned with a rag and he started to help her by dabbing it on her chest. Her eyes widened in momentary panic, and she jumped half a foot away from him, out of his reach.

His face bloomed pink in mortification. He handed the cloth to her, stuttering apologies, clearly dropping the ball and wanting to escape as fast as possible. When he had gotten far enough away for her to not notice, he looked back. She was still standing there with those wide blue eyes staring. He really wished he could have heard her voice.

* * * * * * * * * *

He held your shoulders for a beat too long. The look on his face reminded you of that night in the bathroom just before he had thrown up, but this time there was confusion mixed with a strange wonderment.