Page 3 of Merrily Ever After
On top of the science block at 1 a.m. is the last place I expected her to be. And right now, the last place Iwanther to be since I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a sparkling blue tutu.
Not that I’m shy. I’ve never been shy. And when I stripped off my T-shirt thirty seconds ago, it was to several pairs of roving eyes and appreciative wolf whistles. Just none from her.
Not only did she not wolf whistle, she didn’t even look impressed. She actually looked significantlyunimpressed. And now she’s not even looking at all.
I thought I caught a brief glance when she first arrived, but she hasn’t turned my way since, which is slightly confusing because I work pretty hard on my body, truth be told. A lot of rowing and protein powder and, okay, maybe some good genes too.
People look at me.
So why won’t she?
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn away as someone hands me a bottle. I take a swig automatically, but it doesn’t go down as easily as it did before. Too sugary and yet too bland all at the same time. Still, I force a smile and hand it back, keeping up appearances.
“Where the fuck is Jeremy?” someone shouts and there’s a chorus of catcalls as people lean over the side of the building, looking for him. Jeremy is who we’re waiting for. Who’s fetching the shots we’re to drink before we jump into the lake below. I forget why. Forget what we’re jumping for as well. Honestly, I’m not even sure how this all started, but it seemed like a great idea when we were all in the student bar getting shit-faced. Some genius proposed a game of truth or dare and I’ve never turned down a dare in my life so now I’m here. In a tutu. And, sinceI’m no longer enjoying the effects of questionable alcohol, I’m starting to slightly regret it.
I look to the side again, trying not to be too obvious as Lara chats with a friend. Dark curls. Brown eyes. Unlike me, she’s fully dressed, wearing jeans and an oversized cardigan. She wears no jewelry, but there’s a university-branded lanyard with her student pass around her neck. We were all given them in our orientation packs. I lost mine on the first day, but I’m glad she didn’t. It means I know her name. I know a few other things too.
Mother from Berlin. Dad from Glasgow. Raised in Manchester. That much I gleaned from her social media. That and that she liked a dog-themed meme page three years ago. Crumbs were all I could get. And now here’s my chance to finally talk to her and she’s acting like I don’t exist.
“Who’s that?” Tommy asks, nodding her way with an interest I don’t like.
“None of your business,” I say shortly, but he just laughs.
“Where the hell is Jer then?” he asks, stretching his arms out as he glances at the gaggle of girls watching his every move. “That fucker said he’d—”
“Run!”
The shout is distant, but we all hear it, and I join Tommy as he leans over the edge of the building to investigate.
“Security!”someone shouts below, and as I peer down the dimly lit pathway, I can just make out Jeremy running alongside the lake, waving his hands wildly over his head. “Security’s coming!” he yells. “Go!”
“Oh shit,” Tommy says, sounding just alittlebit gleeful as he points a finger to where several flashlights bob up and down, heading our way. “Everyone down!” he calls. “They’ve seen us.”
There’s a chorus of screeching and yelling, which will surely only attract more attention, and a sudden rush to the fire escape. It’s the way we all came up, so the only way we can all get down.
It’s a bit hard with some of the girls in heels and somewhere in the back of my mind I register that it’s a miracle no one falls and sprains anything, but I get to the ground safely and spy Tommy rushing by with several bottles under his arm and a wicked look on his face.
“Arts Block,” he calls to me, and I’m just about to follow when something catches my attention.
“Lara, comeon.”
I turn at the frantic hiss to see the girl in question standing by the fire escape. As I watch, her friend joins the others in fleeing, but Lara doesn’t move. It takes me a second to realize it’s because her cardigan has snagged on the railing, and in her obvious panic she can’t untangle it. She’s stuck.
A damsel in distress.
Well then. I smile to myself as I head over to rescue her, knowing a moment when I see one.
I’m not sure what happens then. Maybe she doesn’t hear me approach. Or maybe she was secretly waiting for her chance. In any case, she reacts immediately as I free her, whirling around with a raised leg. Our eyes meet and recognition flares, but it’s too late to stop her knee meeting my groin and slaying me in one fell swoop.
“Oh my god!” Lara gasps, her hands flying to her mouth, but for the time since I laid eyes on her, I don’t pay her any attention as I futilely try to stop the blinding pain in my balls. “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I wheeze, even as I slowly lower myself to the grass.
“I can’t believe I— It was a reflex action. I’ve been taking self-defense classes.”
“And you’ve been paying attention.”
Christ. It is not manly. It is not dignified, but I give in to the urge to rock on my side, curling into the fetal position as she drops to the ground beside me. Well, at least I won’t be alonewhen I die. But even through the pain, I keep my priorities straight and, as I peer up at the pretty girl beside me, I remind myself that an opening’s an opening. I’ll take it.
