From: Olivia 5:00 p.m. "Can I come pick up my jacket?"
The phone screen illuminated with the text message while I was sitting in bed with my back against the wall. After reading it, my head thunked backwards into the concrete. Thankfully my roommate Robin had already gone home for winter break or she may have been concerned at not only the possible bruise forming but how messy the dorm room had gotten in her absence. The evidence of my failed attempts at distraction had crept onto her side. A half-finished page out of a stress relief coloring book lay discarded in the valley between the beds, which were against opposite walls. A book with a receipt stuck in the first chapter laid on her desk, the same standard issue fake wood one that was at the foot of my bed, slightly blocking the view of the door.
Not pictured, the dozen or so deleted texts that never got sent to Olivia.
Hooking up with your best friend was ill-advised in the best situations. There's the messiness of what that will do to your relationship, to your friend group as a whole. But hooking up in the university library when anyone could have walked by then accidentally stealing her leather jacket in your hasty attempt to retreat was doubly rash.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
From: Sarah 5:04 p.m. "Sure, when?"
From: Olivia 5:05 p.m. "Now? I'm in the lobby"
From: Sarah 5:05 p.m. "Sure, I'll come get you"
Guests weren't allowed to wander the dorms on their own. Even if they lived in the building, they still needed to be escorted by someone who lived on the floor. While our RA had explained it was for safety reasons, I considered running the risk. Right now, the thought of riding in the elevator from the lobby to the sixth floor and back down again made my stomach knot. But we'd both get written up if anyone caught Olivia roaming the halls. Plus the adult thing to do was to suck it up and get it over with. The whole interaction didn't need to last more than five minutes.
When I stepped off the elevator, she was already waiting for me. She was wearing one of my favorite shirts. It was a faded cream colored Dr. Pepper t-shirt over black jeans. The first time she'd worn it, I'd joked that I thought she wasn't allowed to wear colors. She'd just smiled and put my hand on her shirt, explaining the only reason she wore it was because it was so soft. Since then, I always liked seeing her in it. Until now. Now it was just a reminder of how different things were. That comfortability gone.
I held the doors open and she stepped into the elevator with me. It was the end of the semester, so many people had gone home. It wasn't uncommon to be the only person in the elevator or go hours without seeing anyone else other than the front desk clerks.
I leaned back against the metal rail, eyes fixed on the climbing numbers. Conversation topics wouldn't come. Or, rather, no appropriate topics. It felt wrong to ask about vacation plans when the elephant in the room clearly exceeded the weight limit posted near the emergency button.
The ding of arrival saved me from further internal torture. We made our way to my room and I avoided eye contact until the door shut behind us.
"Thanks for letting me borrow your jacket." She just looked so normal. Like nothing happened. Her hands were in her pockets and she surveyed the slight mess with a soft smile. One that made my stomach unknot just a bit.
