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End of An Encounter {Part Deux}

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I hold the door open but do not step out. I wonder if I should just take a hot shower and wash off last night from my skin. Last night does not feel like a terrible mistake I will regret forever. It does not feel like the only other one night stand I had in the past. It was in college, I was a freshman, he was a senior, he was a douchey varsity jock, go figure. I remember clearly when he feigned being “dead tired” as I slipped out of bed. As I bent down to pull my too tight too skinny jeans over my bare legs, he reached out with his long basketball playing arms and smacked my butt. “Thanks babe. I will text you later,” was all he managed to say before he rolled over to face the other side of the prison-cell dorm room with its alabaster white walls. I wondered if Josh would say something like that. Would all the fun moments I think I shared with him last night boil down to that one distasteful statement he will make reducing our encounter to nothing but a mere fun night? Before I get through my next thought of why I was idiotically hoping this would be different, maybe even meaningful, Josh calls out my name.

“Madilyn? Is everything okay?” I call out. She’s been in the bathroom with the door open for a few minutes too long. I still haven’t run out of my bed to put on my boxers. Maybe she meant to step out but needed to go back in because she forgot to brush or……….. What does it matter why she hasn’t stepped out yet? Why was everything about this whole morning and about last night bothering me, well more like making me nervous? Why am I trying to figure out what every little thing with this chic means? I am starting to psych myself out and its slowly getting to me. I need to make an exit and it’s now or never. As I simmer in my thoughts of how best to make my exit, she pokes her head out. Lips swollen, make-up smeared, and hair clearly disheveled from the night. She is beautiful, that much I got right.

“I will be out in a minute. Still need to clean up so I look human,” I reply smiling. He smiles back but doesn’t say anything. I don’t wait for a response and decide I want to take that shower after all. As I lose the robe and step towards the shower stall I call out without much thought, “if you need to be somewhere you can leave, it’s okay, I can see myself out.” I regret it almost as quickly as I say it. There were so many things wrong with that sentence. For one, that was definitely the female version of smacking the other person on the ass the next morning and saying I will text you. Even a ‘I will call you later’ is a step up from just a supposed text. Now I really hope Josh decides to leave, if only to avoid having to face him after my own douchey jock moment. There is silence. I wonder if he didn’t hear me. Part of me hopes he didn’t hear me. I turn on the shower and step in, letting the water run hot over my skin.

I think maybe she is just as awkward about this whole thing as I am. Her quick response when she poked her head out of the bathroom, and the off-handed comment about letting me know it’s okay if I wanted to leave makes me laugh a little. Instead of using this opportunity to make the exit, I am intrigued. I find myself finding it cute that she’s so awkward and slightly shy about this morning. I think I might stick around. Maybe I should do the gentlemanly thing for once and order breakfast for us. I wonder if she will be freaked out if she steps out of the bathroom to find me waiting like a desperate jerk breakfast in tow. Then again, chances are, we might not take this any further than today, why not use this one time to test out how the gentleman type fares in these situations. I put on my boxers and t-shirt. I pick up the phone and dial for room service. My nerves kick it up a notch.

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