“Please,” Lauren’s voice was soft, patient again, but the way she grabbed Arielle’s wrist was anything but. Arielle hoped the wide eyes she looked back with told her just how hopeful she was—against all reason. Lauren stepped closer, and Arielle didn’t back away. “Your punches were okay. If you remember to keep strong arms, they’ll be pretty decent, actually.” Her voice was getting softer as she inched closer. She didn’t drop Arielle’s hand, even though the grip of her fingers had loosened. Arielle fought against letting her eyes drift shut as she felt the light graze of Lauren’s nails against her palm.
“So,” Arielle said in an equally soft voice, “You wouldn’t mind holding my legs the entire time? Just so I can get pissed off at a punching bag?”
“That, and other reasons,” Lauren answered, searching Arielle’s eyes for something. She was only a step away, and yet her shoulder turned, then her foot followed. Half a step away now, and from what Arielle could tell, holding her breath back just like she was. Testing. Waiting.
Arielle was too cynical, too doubtful, to imagine it—Lauren slowly, slowly leaned forward, her eyelids moving down the smallest touch. It couldn’t be anything else but the look of someone who was going to kiss her.
And so Arielle let her breath out, and let her heart hope, and leaned in, centimeter by centimeter to match Lauren. She was so close she could feel her breath against her cheek. Arielle took in a stuttered breath and …
The door to the room opened with a whoosh. Arielle jumped back, her heart thundering against her chest. Lauren clapped her hands down to her sides. “Hey, Lauren.” A middle-aged guy in a polo and khakis stuck his head in. “If it’s okay, I’m gonna put Zumba in here. They’re starting in fifteen. Don’t worry about cleanup, I’ll send Chris in here to handle it.”
Arielle was already out the door, down the hall, and in the elevator when she heard the guy leave.
Running away again, Ari. Awesome.
Arielle took every turn through the rec center that she could, just in case Lauren was following behind—hoping she was following behind, but not wanting to talk to her again. Not just yet. Rooms full of happy exercising students, apparently experiencing no misery and certainly not any ridiculous relationship drama, or non-relationship drama, flashed before her eyes. She passed the elevator and shouldered her way through a heavy metal door, sighing with relief when she exited into the stairwell. Something about the solid gray concrete, smelling blank and looking empty, under the steady, cool fluorescent lights, helped her take a deep breath. She had to focus on one thing at a time. Had to make sure she was okay before she involved anyone else.
She wanted to slump against the cool concrete wall, maybe stay in this stairwell until the rec center closed, just to guarantee that she wouldn’t see Lauren on her way out. But she’d taken enough twists and turns through the center, and there were at least two doors exiting from these stairs to different halves of campus, North and South. Arielle lived on South, but more students lived North. She’d have to take the gamble that Lauren did, too.
Arielle shook her head. She hated that she was even thinking this much about which door she should exit. She knew one thing—whatever Rachel had done to her, she couldn’t live her life afraid of who or what might be on the other side of every door she opened.
Drawing a long breath into her lungs, feeling her muscles, already sore from the class, Arielle pushed out the rec center door and was greeted by a cold gust of wind. She pulled her hands into her sleeves, put her head down, and started walking.
The light was waning fast. Instead of the intense wind she’d expected from that first step out of the building, the air was mostly still, with an edge of chill—and then she felt the first stinging drop against her cheek. Dammit.
Arielle knew that Indiana weather could change on a dime—after all, she’d grown up here—but freezing rain? In the middle of October?
She put her head down and quickened her pace, counting steps. Every ten was closer to Harrison. Almost halfway there now, and…
“Arielle? Arielle!”
One of the only times she had heard Lauren’s voice raised was in the kickboxing class she’d just taught. Still, like everything else about her, apparently, Arielle had internalized it, memorized it. So she knew instantly that the girl calling after her was the one girl she really wanted to see, and didn’t want to see, at the same time.
She stopped in her tracks, but a prickliness in her chest kept her from turning back. The mix of emotions she had for Lauren was too much to handle.
And yet she was here. And Arielle wouldn’t run away from her. And she was calling Arielle’s name. Right now. In the stinging, freezing, rain.
It wasn’t until Arielle turned to face Lauren that she realized that there were warm tracks of wetness running down her cheeks through the chill. Dammit.
She took a shuddering breath inward.
“Hey,” Lauren said, for one of the first times ever with her face twisted in worry, instead of calm and smiling. “You didn’t have to…I mean, I wanted to…talk to you.”
Arielle gave a short laugh, trying to keep the edge off her words. “I…listen. I need to be honest with you. I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean?” Lauren wrapped her long arms, covered only in a thin hoodie, around her torso and shivered.
“I don’t know what I mean. That’s the problem.”
Lauren just tilted her head, kept looking at Arielle. Waiting for more, in that horrible, perfect patient way she always did.
“I just…I like hanging out with you. Maybe too much. I don’t know. Some things have happened with…someone from home. Recently. And I don’t want it to…affect us. I mean, this. I mean…me.” Arielle’s head fell as she realized she’d just totally betrayed her feelings.
“This thing that happened…was it with a friend?” Lauren breathed this more than asked it, and her chest rose slightly more noticeably.
Arielle’s own indecision enraged her. “Not really a friend,” she said. “More than a friend.”
“It must have been a big deal if it’s still making you cry.”
Arielle’s hand flew up to her cheek. Dammit, the girl had noticed. This ever-perceptive, always patient, mysteriously caring and attentive girl had noticed she was crying, and cared enough to stand in the freezing rain to talk about it.
“Yeah. It is—it was—a big deal.”
“Okay, well drama from home or not, and whether you want to be friends with me or not, you are wet and freezing and my dorm is close. You’re coming back with me.”
“It’s close? Really?” Arielle said, fighting back more fat tears from rolling down and stalling with a stupid question at the same time. Harrison was two minutes’ walk away. She’d have her stuff, and her roommates. She’d have the sanctuary of the Society to unload everything.
But more than all that, she knew deep down, she wanted more time with Lauren.
“I’m in Crawford,” Lauren said, touching Arielle’s elbow with her fingertips, gentle and at the same time insistent.
Arielle nodded and swallowed hard. “Okay. Thanks.”
She didn’t tell her that she lived in Harrison, which was two buildings from Crawford. Instead, she quickened her pace to keep up with Lauren’s long legs, and followed her home.
Inside, Arielle realized that she was really more damp than wet, hardly in need of a towel. She waited for Lauren to notice the same thing, but instead Lauren looked her up and down and said, “Come on. You’re soaked and freezing. Let’s get you dried off and warm.”
Arielle wasn’t soaked or freezing, but she nodded anyway. There was every reason not to let herself be alone with Lauren but she wanted it now, more badly than she’d thought possible. Even though she knew damn well that things could get too out of control, too fast, especially since they hadn’t even had the “Are you gay?” talk.
But Lauren had followed her out of the rec center. Called after her. Touched her wrist in that way that sent warm wav
es up and down her arm. Brought her home, offered to clean her up. Lauren had to like her, didn’t she? Had to be interested in something more than just lunch buddies, even more than friends.
Still, she couldn’t forget what had happened the last time she’d made assumptions about a girl’s feelings for her. That had backfired in the biggest way possible the day after she’d arrived at Northern.
Lauren was like a magnet, tugging Arielle along behind her and all but erasing her hesitation. Lauren waved hello to the person working the desk, then grabbed Arielle’s hand and pulled her into step beside her. “Technically I’m supposed to sign you in, since it’s past seven,” Lauren said under her breath. “Stupid Northern rules. I mean, I would if I had to, but it’s just a pain in the ass.”
“Breaking the rules, Lauren…oh shit. I just realized I don’t even know your last name.”
Lauren laughed as she punched the ‘up’ button on the elevator, dropping Arielle’s hand in the process. Again, her heart did that sinking thing, like the break in contact was pounding her heart down. “You’re going to be disappointed.”
Arielle laughed back. “I don’t see how I could be disappointed by a last name.”
“Nelson.”
Arielle gave her a confused look.
“It’s just so normal,” Lauren explained.
“So?”
“Well, yours is so exotic. Arielle Duval. It sounds like royalty, or a movie star.”
“Or a mermaid?” Arielle asked, smiling a little.
“Oh! I mean…okay. Maybe that’s where I got both of those.”
“Because those are the two things Arielle is,” Arielle sighed with a resigned smile, slumping against the wall of the elevator as Lauren punched the button. Floor seven. “I got it a lot growing up. A mermaid princess. It was especially hilarious when I completely sucked at swim team.”
Lauren rewarded the small story from Arielle’s childhood with a hearty laugh, meeting her eyes when she did. Whether Arielle liked it or not, whether Lauren intended it or not, the connection between them was intense. Almost overwhelmingly so. The doors closed, and they were alone.
Normal girl procedure was to take the opposite wall of the elevator, but Lauren leaned against the wall and against Arielle. Arielle’s eyes roamed around the perimeter of the elevator—it had room for at least ten more people. Yet Lauren was right here next to her. Touching her.
And she’d just admitted that she’d been thinking extensively about Arielle’s name.
Crawford was an older building, its walls made of cinder block painted over with thick off-white, its doors a pale green-coated metal. And the doors were so close together. Lauren pulled her keychain from her bag and shoved a key in the lock of room 712.
“Keys? Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Lauren said, grunting as she shoved the door open with her shoulder. “It’s a little stuck. And, obviously, it’s old, but check this out.”
Lauren’s room was the neatest, tidiest, most put-together, perfectly matchy-matchy college room, or any room for that matter, that Arielle had ever seen. It looked exactly like the college dorm rooms on the advertisements in department stores. It was completely put together, not a single thing out of place. And the fleeting thought ran through Arielle’s head that, because of that, it looked a little empty. She took a couple steps over the flawless, sea-foam area rug, the one that went perfectly with the bedspread, the green swirled together with a white and purple paisley.
Then, suddenly, Arielle understood what Lauren was telling her to check out. She gasped. “You got a single. How in the …”
Well, Lauren said, letting the heavy door close behind her and practically causing Arielle’s heart to stop completely, “Obviously, like I said, it’s old. Like, the floor tiles are cracking, the ceiling has water stains, we have radiator heat, and the bathrooms are…interesting.”
“Wait, wait. You have your own bathroom?”
Lauren beamed. “Yep. I told you I accepted early decision, and into the combined undergrad/M.D. program?”
Arielle nodded, remembering how awed at Lauren’s intelligence she’d been.
“Well, part of the deal was that if I was in those two programs, and if I chose a learning-focused living community, I’d get a single. The argument is that I need to be able to keep my own hours for studying, without risking roommate conflicts. I guess since the University is making a big investment in me.” She shrugged like everything she’d just said was totally no big deal. Not impressive at all. Really, she was a genius, a valuable brain to the university, a gem among the student population.
“Well, I came here off the waitlist,” Arielle chuckled, “So I guess I’m lucky I only have to share with two roommates.”
“Do you at least have your own bedroom?”
Arielle nodded. ”There’s like a common room and bathroom, and yeah, we have our own teeny tiny bedrooms. You can barely fit two people in there, but…I mean, not that I’ve tried to fit two people in there. But if you imagine it. Not that I’ve been imagining it, but …” Oh, God. Now she felt like she was going to throw up. What was it about this girl that turned her into a bumbling, idiotic fool?
Arielle looked around the room, praying that Lauren would fill the dead air. After a couple weird seconds, she did. “Um, okay. So my dresser’s right there,” she said, waving a hand toward a wooden chest of drawers. “You’re totally welcome to whatever. I’m just gonna …” she leaned her head toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Arielle had to let the poor girl pee.
But one second after Lauren shut the bathroom door behind her, Arielle heard the unmistakable hiss of a shower turning on, full force. Wonderful. The girl she was infatuated with was getting naked, right on the other side of a metal door. And they were totally alone. No roommates as buffers, as insurance against what Arielle suddenly felt was a train barreling toward her on the tracks.
She was almost totally sure that Lauren had been about to kiss her in that workout room. Eighty percent. Maybe fifty. That combined with everything else from tonight added up to a pretty good chance that there was something between them. Now she had about five minutes to figure out what that was.
But first she should probably stop being a total doofus, and change her clothes. The thing she’d come up here for.
She pulled open the top drawer slowly, for some reason trying not to make so much noise, and was met with the sight of pair upon pair of lacy panties with bras to match. She caught her breath. Dammit, being alone in the room with Lauren was one thing, feeling the touch of Lauren’s soft hand against hers, listening to her strip on the other side of the door…but actually seeing the panties that covered the pretty damn perfect ass Arielle had appreciated so many times? Heat shot through Arielle and she had to take several deep breaths to get her hormones and the thoughts they dredged up back under control.
She blew out a long breath as she pulled open the next drawer, and was greeted by the unmistakable smell of Lauren’s perfume wafting up from the clothes inside. Lauren smelled good even when she was working out …
Arielle’s eyes fluttered closed, remembering the feel of Lauren’s hands on her hips. How in the world was she going to deal with eleven more weeks of class with this girl? She snapped them open again, and examined the shirts she had to pick from. Lauren’s taste was simple—solid cotton shirts, soft to the touch and, Arielle knew, clinging in all the right places. She may not have ever noticed the exact details, but she damn sure had the image of that curve under Lauren’s breast, or the strong, graceful line of her collarbone, burned into her brain.
Arielle breathed in through her nose, slowly. She fumbled through the drawer until she found a deep purple tee, a great color for her, with three-quarter length sleeves. She let her hoodie fall down her arms and tugged her tank off, leaning down to stuff it in her bag, then sniffed her armpit to make sure she didn’t stink too badly. The sweat was definitely there, she decided, wrinkling her nose, but the deo
dorant would mask it well enough with a shirt on.
And there would definitely be a shirt on.
She tugged on the t-shirt, then stepped out of her flip flops and yoga pants. She didn’t even register that the shower had turned off until Lauren swung the bathroom door open a few seconds later. Then Lauren was suddenly, adorably there, in a blue terrycloth bathrobe and a huge white towel turbaned on top of her head.
And staring at Arielle in one of her own t-shirts and black cotton bikini panties.
Arielle scrambled to pick up her yoga pants from their damp pile on the floor and hold them in front of her.
“I was just…I couldn’t…I didn’t know you were going to take a shower,” she finished lamely. As if that explained anything.
Lauren didn’t laugh or rush to fill the awkward space this time. She just watched Arielle carefully, letting her eyes trail down to the clothes half-hanging out of Arielle’s bag, her bare toes, and finally, up her legs, torso, and back to her face. She didn’t move, but just said, “There are some sweats in the bottom drawer, if you want to warm up.”
The look on Lauren’s face was dead serious, like a challenge instead of a joke.
Arielle couldn’t move. Something had taken hold of her, frozen her every nerve, from her feet to the hairs on her head. The air between them crackled with something, and right now Arielle was convinced that there was a very fine line between awkwardness and tentativeness.
But then, Lauren stepped toward her. Steadily, purposefully, stopped just a foot in front of her, then bent down. Arielle’s mind went to another place entirely, thinking about the position of Lauren’s head combined with the memory of how it felt to have the gorgeous girl’s hands running down her calves just half an hour ago. Of course, instead of touching Arielle, Lauren pulled open the drawer and dug out a pair of worn-in black sweatpants, the old-fashioned kind with elastic at the ankles. Lauren stood up to full height and held them out to Arielle. There was no way Arielle could take them from her without their fingers touching, and when they did, more fizzy warmth spilled through Arielle’s body.
The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C Page 15
