Chapter 01 -- Locked Out
Amy flicked her wet hair out of her eyes and looked in the mirror. Much better, she thought, than the cat-dragged-in look she'd had after coming in from the heavy rain outside. A hot shower later and she was still wet, but at least warm. She wrapped a towel around her slender frame as she combed her hair back -- dyed a deep, vampy red, and usually falling to the middle of her back. For now, it just clung to her pale skin.
Dancing lightly out of the en-suite, she was about to flop down onto her dorm bed when her stomach rumbled. "Ok, food first," she muttered to no one in particular, and went out into the hall of her shared flat, being careful to prop her own door open with a heavy textbook. She wasn't too worried about wandering around the flat in just a towel, as her flatmates were all girls, though she did peek into the kitchen before going in to make sure no one had brought any friends around. Fortunately it was empty, and she was soon pottering about heating up some instant ramen, and then eating it whilst perching on one of the plastic dining chairs.
Her meal was cut short by the muffled sound of a door slamming.
"Oh, shit," she swore, practically falling out of the chair and losing her towel in her haste to get back to her room. It was too late though, and her textbook was sitting in the middle of the corridor, her door -- the kind of heavy fire door that always closes itself, and in the case of her student accommodation locked itself too -- was closed. She tried the handle anyway, knowing it wasn't going to open, but hoping maybe it wasn't quite gone. The handle wouldn't budge, and her keys were just inches away, hanging on a hook on the other side of the door.
Suddenly realising she was naked in the corridor, Amy darted back to the kitchen to retrieve her towel, bundling herself up whilst she tried to figure out what to do. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, before calming down and going back out to knock on her neighbours' doors. One by one, though, they remained closed, with no answers and no sounds from the other side. With each lack of response she got a little more worried, but after a while she began to calm down, figuring that eventually, someone would come home, and though it'd be embarrassing, it was far from the end of the world. Returning to the kitchen, she picked at the remains of her noodles, soon getting bored, and even considering going to fetch her useless doorstop and actually do some studying.
Soon, though, boredom faded back to worry, and then annoyance, as the already dark sky outside the kitchen windows got even darker, with no sign of anyone getting back. Worse, it was getting late, and it seemed the chances of getting back to her room on time to go out that night were getting slimmer and slimmer. Then it hit her: Charlie, the warden for the block. A postgrad student, she was almost always in her room in one of the other units, and had keys to the whole block. Without a phone though -- like everything else, it was still in her room -- she'd have to physically leave her unit and go downstairs to hers, and that meant potentially getting locked out of the entire flat, this time stuck in the cold stairwell, still in just a towel. She examined herself, and mentally added that it wasn't a particularly concealing towel: wrapped around torso, it handily covered her breasts, but barely went halfway down her thighs. She could pull it down further, but not without showing off a ton of cleavage, or worse.
Finally, though, she couldn't wait anymore, and decided to risk it. Once more employing her doorstop -- and trusting it even less this time -- she snuck out of the main door of the unit, holding her towel tight against her body, and scampered down the flight of stairs to the first floor flats. She hammered on the door to Charlie's unit, desperately hoping he was home.
Her prayers were answered when the door swung open, but she it wasn't who she was expecting; instead of Charlie, it was one of her neighbours instead, and his eyes practically popped out of his head when he took in Amy and the vast expanse of exposed skin her towel left uncovered.
"Oh, hey... Jack, right?" she asked, trying to ignore his roving eyes.
"Hey, Amy," he replied, apparently making a concerted effort not to stare at her chest. "You ok?"
"I got locked out," she explained.
"Ohhhh," he exclaimed, comprehension dawning on his face. "You're looking for Charlie then?"
"Yeah -- please tell me she's in?"
"Sorry," he shrugged. "I think she's with her boyfriend. For like, the weekend."
"You're kidding?" Amy yelled.
Jack just shrugged again, his eyes creeping lower before snapping back up to her face. "Uh... so... there anything I can do?"
It was Amy's turn to shrug. "I don't know, I don't suppose you have her keys...?"
"Sorry. But like, do you want to come in? Wait for your flatmates to get home or something? I think the trains are all delayed because of the weather."
"Oh, great, that explains it," Amy muttered. She peered around Jack, into the unit's corridor. "Anyone else in?" she asked.
"Nope, just me for now I guess," he replied, grinning.
Amy looked back to the stairs, considering her options. She sighed. "Sure, thanks, I'll come in."
Jack pulled the door open wider, letting Amy walk past into the flat, and she could feel his eyes on her back as the door swung shut behind her. "You want to hang out in the kitchen, or my room?" he asked.
"Uh, whichever's warmer?" she said, shivering and hugging the towel even closer around her. It was still a little damp, and really hugged the contours of her body. She could imagine Jack practically swooning, but she didn't want to look and check.
"My place then," he answered, slipping past her to go unlock his door. Amy followed, tip-toeing along the cold floor, and squeezed past Jack into his room, doing her best to avoid rubbing against him, already feeling way too exposed.
Where her flat was maybe a little untidy, Jack's was total chaos. The bed sheets kicked onto the floor, a cluster of beer bottles standing, empty, on most available surfaces. The walls and even ceiling were plastered with a mix of music and movie posters, and she even spotted a couple of videogames amongst them. Jack himself hovered around near the door for a moment before trying, and failing, to surreptitiously clean up a bit. Mostly that meant sweeping some clothes off the end of his bed, and presenting it to Amy as a seat. "Ta da," he announced, gesturing for her to sit.
"Um, thanks," she said, smiling weakly, and sitting down -- extremely carefully, very aware of how little she was wearing. Jack looked around uncertainly for a moment, first moving towards the bed too, then thinking better of it, and hopping into the swivel chair by his desk.
He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped, and for what seemed like an eternity they sat in silence, until Amy finally spoke again.
"This is so embarrassing."
Jack laughed nervously. "Yeah, I can imagine. I mean, I can't even imagine. How'd you manage it?"
Amy smiled, relaxing a little now that they were actually talking, and Jack seemed distracted enough by wanting to hear her story that he'd actually managed to concentrate on her face again, and not her slender legs. "Well, I was taking a shower, then when I got out, I went to get some food and..."
"These stupid doors, right?" Jack finished for her. "I'm always getting locked out, never in a towel though. I guess we're lucky, having Charlie live with us."
"Yeah. I can't believe she isn't here," Amy said, nodding. "You're sure she's gone?"
"Yeah, sorry. So what're you going to do? Even if your flatmates come back, they can't let you into your room right?"
"No, but I can borrow some clothes at least. Crash with them and go get a new key tomorrow, when the site office is open."
Jack nodded, then suddenly sat up straight. "Oh right, clothes! Because you don't have any. I mean, um, you want to borrow some, or something?"
Amy brightened up. "Yeah, I mean, I guess, if you're sure you don't mind?"
"Course not," he replied, waving his hand dismissively, and getting up to rifle through his closet. He pulled out a university hoodie that zipped up the front, and a pair of ripped jeans. "These ok?" he asked.
"Sure, anything's great," Amy said, laughing. She got up to take them, having to hold the towel against her chest with one hand as it loosened when she stood. When she looked up again after securing it, she once again found Jack's gaze nailed to her now increasingly visible cleavage.
"Uh, sorry," he mumbled when he realised she'd noticed.
"Don't worry about it," she laughed, "and thanks for the clothes." She was getting increasingly relaxed being around him half naked. In a way, it was actually kind of exciting, even though she'd never really thought about him at all before running into him that day. Tall and skinny, with a mess of black hair and dark stubble on his jaw, he wasn't really her type. But watching how obviously he found her attractive -- and really, she thought, he couldn't be more obvious -- was a bit of a thrill. Dismissing the thought, though, she realised that while a little excitement was one thing, she wasn't planning on stripping the towel off in front of him any time soon. "So, can I like, change in your... oh?" she started asking, intending to say 'bathroom' but suddenly noticing that his en-suite was missing a door.
Jack grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, right, that... I got kind of drunk during freshers week, and then kind of... fell through it. Took it right off the hinges."
Amy looked at Jack's lanky frame, and considered the sturdy door to her own bathroom. "That's quite a fall," she noted.
