by Bloom, Anna
“I am not taking you home so I can take advantage of you,” I assure her. “You really are rather drunk, and I think you should let me help you home.”
Please.
I can’t help it. I have to push it just a little.
“Besides, when I do have sex with you,” which I will by the way, “I would rather you were a little more sober.”
I don’t really mean this. Of all the drunken encounters I have had in my life, this would be the only one I would wake up from and completely embrace the naked conversation the next day.
I know this is not the right time though. Nine months it’s taken to see her again. Our first time making love has got to be something more, something perfect, and something that she would remember, which to be honest I am not sure she would right now.
“Where do you live, Lilah?” I ask again.
She gives an almighty sway, and I reach a hand out to steady her if she needs it.
Then stroppy Lilah comes out to play.
“Block B, Floor Five,” she announces.
I stop and stare.
Come again?
She puts one drunken hand on her hip as if to say, Ha! I knew you would never know.
But instead of giving her time to gloat, I grab her in my arms, flinging her over my shoulder, and start to walk off.
She starts to shout but it only last for about half a minute before she goes very quiet and I continue my march towards her room.
She is out cold when I use my key to let us into the dorm. I poke my head through the lounge door as I walk down the corridor and it soon becomes clear why she is passed out over my shoulder. There is an array of champagne bottles, fag packets, and goodness knows what. There is also a bra hanging from the kitchen door. I can’t conceive how that got there but I am pretty sure that I will not be sharing a dorm with a group of male geeks.
I try her door, find it unlocked, and creep in. It’s like an assault course of discarded makeup and clothes but I finally manage to tiptoe my way to the edge of her bed and lower her down.
It’s not that graceful and she kind of slumps out of my arms and lands in a heap on the mattress. I manage to stop her rolling back off and onto the floor.
I can’t help but laugh. I feel bloody delirious. I just kissed her. The one I have been searching for. She is here and I am here and there is, like, all her stuff on the floor. Tonight when I go to sleep I will know exactly where she is. Tomorrow when I wake up I will be able to talk to her, even make her a cup of coffee, and introduce myself for the third time, and I will never have to worry about not finding her again.
I pull her duvet up and edge out of the door. It is only when I am heading back to the outer door and towards the gig I have abandoned that I think of the headache she is going to have tomorrow. I am sure it is going to be a killer, much the same as I am sure she will have little recollection of her journey home. The thought makes me grin.
I nip into my room, which is right next to hers, and grab some of the bottles of water I stashed in preparation for my own hangover.
She can thank me tomorrow or the day after that, or even the day after that because one thing is for sure: I am never letting that girl escape again.
Be sure to read Anna’s full-length novel featuring Ben and Lilah, now available on www.Amazon.com.
The Art of Letting Go (The Uni Files)
One year. One woman. One Diary. One question: Can you ever stop history from repeating itself, and if you could, what would you do to stop it?
When Lilah McCannon realises at the age of twenty-five that history is going to repeat itself and she is going to become her mother—bored, drunk and wearing a twinset—there is only one thing to do: take drastic action.
Turning her back on her old life, Lilah’s plan is to enrol at university, get a degree, and prove she is a grown-up.
As plans go, it is a good one. There are rules to follow: no alcohol, no cigarettes, no boys, and no going home. But when Lilah meets the lead singer of a local band and finds herself unexpectedly falling in love, she realises her rules are not going to be the only things hard to keep.
With the academic year slipping by too quickly, Lilah faces a barrage of new challenges: Will she ever make it up the Library stairs without having a heart attack? Can she handle a day on campus without drinking vodka?
Will she ever manage to read a history book without falling asleep? And, most importantly, can she become the grown-up that she desperately wants to be?
With her head and her heart pulling her in different directions, can Lilah learn the hardest lesson that her first year of university has to teach her: The Art of Letting Go?
