In the Air (13 page)

"I dated someone exactly like you, Samson. If I would have followed my instincts, I wouldn't be standing here feeling completely used."

She turned to walk away, but I grabbed her waist. Her back was to me and I pressed closer against her.

"I never used you, Natalia." I lowered my lips close to her ear, making sure she could hear my words clearly. "We never discussed relationships. I didn't expect you to kiss me tonight. I was planning to tell you about Aubrey. I thought we agreed to be friends." I was talking myself in circles and I didn't know what else I could say to ease the situation.

Natalia spun around and stared up at me for a moment. I was so tempted to pull her closer and kiss her.

"This conversation is going nowhere. All I really want to do right now is punch you in the face, but I would hate to hurt my hand so early in the school year." She rubbed her lips together, waiting for my reply.

"Natalia, just know that the second I laid eyes on you, I haven't stopped thinking about you. Can we talk tomorrow? Please?" I knew it was a lot to ask, but I needed to make this right. I was ready to get on my hands and knees if that's what it took.

"Goodbye, Samson." Natalia's eyes were distant and she walked away without another word.

I tried to call after her, but my throat felt like I had swallowed a dozen cotton balls. As I watched Natalia walk away, a piece of me was leaving with her.

The morning arrived too soon and my ears were still ringing from the night before. As the sun shone into my room, I turned away from the light and wrapped the blankets tightly around my body. I didn't want to leave this room ever again for fear of running into Samson. I was worried about the awkwardness that was sure to be present between us. I would arrive to class, he would grab my waist and smile at me with his adorable, cocky grin, and the whole time I would be wondering how many times a day he talked to his girlfriend.
What an asshole.
If I had one wish, it would be for Monday to never come.

As my erratic thoughts continued, I heard the door open and close. If Kingsley found out the events of last night, she would never let me live it down.

"Rise and shine, princess," Kingsley sang standing over my bed.

I growled in response.

"Seriously, Natalia, wake up. It's almost noon and you can't be that tired from last night."

I peeked out from my blankets and saw Kingsley walk to her desk, setting down a cup of coffee on the desk.

She turned back to me. "Wait, you and Samson totally did it! You're exhausted from all of the crazy sex you had! I can't imagine him being any good at it, but wow, I guess I was wrong."

Kingsley's ramblings were making my already present headache intensify.

"Did you shower? Because he's probably really dirty and I could only imagine what kind of creepy crawlers are now growing inside of you."

I pulled the blankets back over my head, hoping to drown out her voice. "Kingsley, please shut up," I shouted.

There was complete silence and I was relieved that Kingsley decided to leave me alone ... until I felt my bed shaking. Looking out from the luxurious fort I had built, I saw Kingsley above me, hopping up and down on my bed. This must be her personal form of torture.

"Get off, get off, get off!" I yelled, trying to push her off with my own legs, which was difficult to do since they were sheathed in blankets.

She stopped jumping and fell to her knees, trapping my legs beneath her weight. "That's not the first time I've heard that," she said, a tight-lipped smile spreading from one ear to another. "Don't be such a grouch. I figured you would be in a good mood this morning, considering you hung out with Pretty Boy all night. Give me details. And seriously, get out of bed." Her tone was firm. She was a very bossy roommate.

"There are no details to tell. We went to the concert, got food, and then went our separate ways." There was absolutely no need to divulge how the night had ended.

"You're an awful liar." Kingsley's somber face stared back at me. "This is me trying to be a good roommate, but you're acting like a little shit. So, never mind."

She walked over to her side of the room, carelessly throwing her heeled boots onto the floor. She continued undressing, not being the least bit shy about getting naked in front of me. I wasn't surprised, though. I'd known the girl for such a short time and I'd already walked in on her giving someone a blow job.

I
was
surprised, however, that Kingsley cared about the fine points of my night. She'd really never been that curious to get to know any details of my life since I'd been living with her, but I think what flagged her interest was that my night could have possibly been scandalous. Kingsley loved scandal.
I think it made her feel better about her own mess.

When I tried to ask Kingsley about her life, she would give me generic answers.
Only child. Had one serious boyfriend. Never knew her real parents.
The one thing she did fully open up about was her adoption. A few nights ago, Kingsley stumbled into our room and shook me awake.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered.

"Is everything okay? What time is it?" I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, trying to focus on her face. She looked as if she had been crying.

"
Everything is ... fine. I just," she stammered over her words. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course." I sat up in my bed, eager to hear what she wanted to confess. Kingsley wasn't the type to reveal anything about herself, so at that moment, I wanted to make sure she knew I was listening.

"My past was fucked up. Not just, 'oh, I didn't make the cheerleading squad' or 'boo-hoo kids make fun of me all of the time.'" She bit her lip and stayed quiet before continuing. "No, it was a disaster until Trish adopted me." Her eyes shot up as she finished.

"You were adopted?"

"You thought Trish was my real mom?" Kingsley asked.

"I obviously noticed that you two looked nothing alike, but I wasn't going to jump to conclusions. That's your thing."

She lightly laughed at my answer and explained. "Trish adopted me two years ago. I was fifteen years old and I'd just been thrown out of yet another foster home. I never thought I'd be adopted again. She saved me." Kingsley's face lit up when she talked about Trish. It was the only time she showed any emotion.

Other than that middle-of-the-night conversation about Kingsley's past, I hadn't learned anything else.
As much as I would love to know all about her life, I knew it would take her time to open up.

"We kissed." I didn't plan on admitting that information, and it snuck out before I could bite my tongue. I waited for the shit to hit fan and bit the inside of my cheek.

Just as Kingsley was about to take off the last piece of clothing, her underwear, she stopped and swung her body around. She glared down at me and for a moment, I was terrified she was going to pounce.

"We should still get you checked out. You could have herpes forming." Kingsley walked to her closet, throwing on the first thing her hand touched.

I started laughing, reading the text on her black T-shirt. In large pink font, it informed the world that she wasn't wearing any underwear. "Don't you think that's a little inappropriate? I'm sure people look at you and already assume you're not wearing any underwear. And anyway," I pointed to her half-naked body, "you're making a liar out of your shirt."

Kingsley began laughing as if knowing something I didn't. "In two seconds," she hooked her fingers through her leopard-print thong, "I won't be."

I immediately turned to face the wall. Of all things I never wanted to see, Kingsley's
parts
were number one on that list.

"Do you feel any sores growing on your lips yet?" she snidely asked.

I rolled back around to face her and began dramatically dabbing at my lips. "Oh no! They're all over my mouth!" I jumped out of bed and bounded toward Kingsley, grabbing her and pretending to kiss her face.

Kingsley was strong. Grasping my shoulders, she said, "You're like the annoying little sister I never wanted."

She was correct in the fact that having a roommate did feel like having a sister. Being an only child, I wasn't used to having someone around to share things with. My mom always claimed to be a shoulder to cry on, but any time I tried talking to her about anything other than dance, she'd stop listening. In times of need, I turned to my dad. Anytime a boy broke my heart, Dad was there with two spoons and a tub of ice cream. Anytime I felt exhausted from practice, my dad's shoulder was often where I would fall asleep. I missed him so much.

I lay back down, covering myself up from the coldness of the room. "Is that coffee you're drinking? Please tell me it's coffee."

"It's coffee," she replied, sipping her cup.

I hopped out of bad so fast I didn't realize my feet were tangled in the blankets. Falling face first, I barely caught myself from landing on my nose. Immediately, I heard Kingsley's laughing. I joined in, unable to act mad that she didn't offer to help me up. As clumsy as I was, you'd never think I was a ballerina.

"Need. Coffee. To. Feel. Better." I whined, acting like I had just broken every bone in my body.

"If you weren't such a drama queen, I'd offer you this delicious coffee, but now ... " She waved her mug around like she was holding a trophy.

"Be a good roommate and give me some," I demanded.

She sighed loudly and started to hand me the cup, but snatched it away, taking a drink instead.

"That's it. I renege on the whole best friend bracelet idea."

When I retreated back to my bed, she cleared her throat loudly, prompting me to turn back around.

"Here, little girl, have some," Kingsley said as she smiled up at me warmly.

As soon as I took the first gulp of the hot liquid, I knew it wasn't
just
coffee.

"Really, Kingsley? This is disgusting." I handed the cup back to her, feeling my throat began to burn from the whiskey. I'd never been a huge fan of it and I had respect for any girl that could drink the stuff.

"Don't knock what you can't handle." Kingsley downed the rest.

I glared at her in response. I'd had a lot to drink in my day. Maybe I wasn't fall-down drunk every night, like her, but I knew how to throw them back. Fed up with the exchange, I decided to go dance. I didn't practice yesterday and it was the only way I'd be able to forget everything that had happened the last night.

"I'm going down to the studio," I said.

"It's Sunday. No one practices on a Sunday."

I'd practiced every Sunday for as long as I could remember. "This girl does." I quickly changed into my dance clothes and threw my shoes in my bag.

Before leaving, I grabbed my phone. I had four text messages and one missed call. All from Samson. Just seeing his name show up on my phone made me a nervous wreck.

There were many times before last night that he could have revealed his girlfriend. He could have pushed me away when I kissed him, but he didn't. I was angry with him and I felt like a fool. I was even
angrier
that I was filled with jealousy whenever I thought of Samson with his girlfriend. I needed advice. Since Kingsley was the only girl around, I swallowed my pride and began.

"Kingsley, if a guy you liked kissed you, but then told you afterwards that he had a girlfriend, would you forgive him?"

"Samson has a girlfriend?" Kingsley faced me. "I did not see that coming!"

"Just answer my question!" As irritated as I was with Samson, I didn't want to hear Kingsley ragging on him.

"I've been in that situation many times, but I never cared to stick around long enough to see how it played out. I'd say, if he begs for your forgiveness, then give him the opportunity to explain. As much as that guy makes me want to vomit, maybe he had a good reason for not telling you right away. Just be prepared for the possibility that he was trying to two-time you."

The thought set in. I needed to find out the truth. I sighed loudly, feeling drained. I should have been in the studio, dancing away my troubles. Instead, I had my phone glued to my hand, trying to decide if I should read the unopened texts.