Love in an Elevator

by Cassandra Cole

  Rachel leaned over and gave Alice’s nipple a quick kiss. “I don’t care if I ever see them again. And Maureen can just get over it. I have a feeling that our relationship will be the least of worries when Lawrence files for divorce.”

  “I am sad for her,” Alice said. “She’s a bitch, but she’s still my sister.”

  “Then we’ll be there for her when she needs us,” Rachel said. “And we’ll be there together.” She lay her chin on Alice’s breast and gazed up at her. “Think you can handle that?”

  Alice sighed as she wrapped her arms around Rachel and pulled her closer. “I think I can handle anything,” she said with a sigh. “As long as we’re together.”

  THE END

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  BEST

  FRIENDS

  An Erotic Romance

  By

  Cassandra Cole

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kristen Price looked up at the tall brick building in front of her. The massive structure made her heart beat a little faster. She wondered if she was ready for this, for a life so different than her own. For a moment she considered turning around and running back to Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, where things were small and quiet. However, as suddenly as the thought entered her mind, she pushed it out.

  Leaving Mt. Pleasant was a feat very few accomplished. Families stayed rooted in their farms for generations, but life in that picture perfect, never changing, country sameness was the polar opposite of her dreams. Kris wanted adventure, progress and, above all, freedom. She wanted to actually live her life instead of just going through the motions.

  From a young age Kris decided she would be one of the lucky few who left to never return. She would find her dreams even if that meant facing the scary reality of New York City.

  “You can do this,” she whispered to herself and took a long, deep breath filling her lungs with the heavy air of a real city. She pulled the strap of her backpack higher on her shoulder and, with a confident stride, climbed the steps of the NYU dorm building she was about to call home.

  Inside were tables set up with lists, folders and strange keys. Annoyed looking staff sat behind them, trying to do their jobs, as a sea of people ran around and shouted names. Kris took her place in line and watched with petrified fascination the chaos around her. After a few moments, a plump woman behind one of the tables raised her hand and called, “Next.”

  Kris tucked a piece of her long auburn hair behind her ear and held tightly to her bag as she walked toward the table. Next to her a boy tripped on his own shoelaces and fell to the floor, dropping his keys and orientation papers to the floor. Kris tried to walk around him and not step in his stuff as she approached the table.

  “Hello. Welcome to NYU,” the woman greeted with a smile. “May I see your id, please?”

  Kris only noticed her hands were shaking when she placed her id on the table. The upperclassman handing out keys, a young woman just a few years older than Kris gave her a sympathetic smile reached out to touch her wrist.

  “I know how you feel. Everything seems scary and messy right now, but it gets better. I promise. You just hang in there, girl.”

  Kris smiled back at the woman. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

  The woman pulled her hand back and fumbled with some papers until she found the things belonging to Kris. She handed the orientation papers and the directions to Kris’s room, and wished her good luck with everything.

  As Kris made her way through the crowded hallway and into the packed elevator, she felt a bit more relaxed and reassured. When the doors opened on the fourth floor she wiggled her way out of the crammed steel cage and stepped out into the hall, dodging a red haired girl who ran towards her yelling for someone to hold the door.

  Hers was the first door to the right. She stood in front of it for a second and smiled. An amazing mix of happiness and anxiety flowed through her as she brought the key to the lock. Kris turned her wrist, but when the key wouldn’t turn the happiness seeped out of her, leaving only an unreal amount of anxiety. Kris licked her lips and took a deep, focusing breath. She pulled the key out and tried again. Still no luck.

  She pulled the key out and inspected both, key and lock. They were unlike any key and lock she’d ever seen before, but that was no reason why they shouldn’t work properly. She tossed the frustrating key to the floor and fumbled through her papers, checking everything from the room number to any possible instructions on how to work the key. Much to her annoyance, she found nothing to help her.

  A groan bubbled up from her throat as her forehead hit the door. She closed her eyes to avoid the tears that were threatening to form to spill out. From her left, someone cleared their throat.

  She jumped and turned, wide-eyed. The person standing behind her was a tall girl who seemed to be about her age. Her hair and eyebrows were dyed bright purple, as was her hair. She had pierced eyebrows and bright blue eyes. The combination offset her pale skin beautifully. A wide smile broke across the girl’s lips and Kris had to remind herself how to breathe. In, out. Inhale, exhale.

  “Never used a keyfob before?” The girl asked while staring at the discarded key by Kris’ feet.

  Kris’ brows pulled together at the strange word. “A what?”

  “Keyfob. It’s an electronic key.”

  “An electronic key?”

  “Yeah. You line the lights on the key up with the lights on the door.” “That’s what unlocks it.” The girl bent over, picked up the key and placed it upside down in the lock. There was a clicking noise from the deadbolt and the purple haired girl pushed the door open. “See? Easy as pie.”

  “Yeah,” Kris replied, but the word came out as a high pitched squeak that was almost painful.

  One pierced, purple brow rose at the sound and Kris could bet that the other girl’s lips quivered. She wanted to close her eyes and escape somewhere far, far away, but she didn’t, instead she offered a relieved smile. “Thanks. Where I come from keys are just keys, not Christmas ornaments.”

  The other girl chuckled and walked into the room without waiting for an invitation. Kris followed her in and watched as she stood surveying the room. The girl brought her gaze around to Kris’ face. She smiled and said, “I figured as much. You looked a little lost, cutie pie.”

  Kris couldn’t tell if the girl was being condescending or playful. The only other person to ever call her cutie pie was her grandfather, so she decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. God, the last thing she needed was to get into an argument with some strange girl her first day at school.

  “I do feel a little lost,” Kris said. “But I’m pretty sure that this is my room.”

  The purple, pierced brow arched again. “Are you Kristen Price?”

  “I am. Wait, how do you know my name?”

  The girl pulled out a sheet from her orientation packet and showed it to Kris. “Isadora Ryman,” Kris read the name written between her dorm room number and her own name.

  “You’re my…”

  “Yep. Nice to meet you, roommate.” Isadora’s blue eyes beamed as her lips parted in yet another face splitting smile. “Call me Izzy.”

  Kris held out her hand to shake just like her father had taught her to do, but to her surprise, Izzy wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her in for a hug.

  She gave Kris a quick peck on the cheek and said, “Welcome to the big city, cutie pie!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kris was wide-eyed and unsure what to do, so she wrapped her arms around Izzy and laughed nervously. Kris couldn’t help but notice how much she liked the softness and the warmth of Izzy’s body against hers. There was a sense of comfort there that she’d never experienced before. She tightened her arms, pulling her roommate even closer and all but melting their bodies together.

  She took a deep breath and her nostrils filled with the sweet scent of vanilla. She wondered how someone who looked so unique could have such a
common perfume, and also how such a common scent could be so unique. It was a mystery that thrilled Kris and made her smile.

  When they finally released their hold on each other, both girls smiled. Izzy said something about needing to finish her paperwork and skipped out the door and down the hallway, leaving Kris to stand with her mouth hanging open, wondering what the heck just happened.

  Without Izzy’s colorful presence in the room, Kris noticed how bland the space actually was. Although she didn’t expect anything fancy, she had expected something more than white walls, cheap particle board furniture and the strange, musty smell that reminded her of her grandma.

  The one good thing about the room was the large window that bathed the room in light. She immediately went over and threw it open. She closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the soft breeze that wafted in.

  * * *

  “Thank god the windows open!” Izzy said, coming back through the door dragging a large, old fashioned suitcase behind her. “This place smelled like feet.”

  Kris chuckled at the comment and pointed at the large suitcase Izzy was now struggling to get it up on her bed. Kris asked, “Do you want some help with that?”

  “Nah, I got it,” Izzy replied with a shake of her head, which created a fascinating purple cloud around her pretty face. Kris wasn’t sure why, but Izzy fascinated her to no end. And she found herself gawking at Izzy as if she’d never seen a girl with purple hair before… which she hadn’t. Still, she didn’t want to seem rude. She quickly averted her eyes and retrieved her own luggage from the hallway.

  She rolled her suitcase towards her bed, and stood frozen in shock as she inspected the mattress. She pressed a hand into the small, plastic covered mattress and winced when it crackled beneath her fingertips. She shuddered and pulled her hand away.

  “This looks like a prison mattress,” she said.

  Izzy looked back over her shoulder. “Have you ever been to prison?”

  Kris’s cheeks blushed as she laid her suitcase on the floor and removed a set of yellow sheets from inside. “No, but I imagine this is what their mattresses look and feel like. It’s disgusting.”

  Izzy laughed as she threw a pile of mismatched blankets, sheets and pillows over her bed. After very little straightening up she hopped onto the bed, making the mattress crackle under her weight. She leaned back with her hands behind her head. “So, exactly what were you expecting? One of those fancy beds with the different firmness settings?”

  “I don’t know what I was expecting,” Kris said, shoulders shrugging. “A real bed, maybe? I mean, my folks are paying an arm and a leg for me to be here, you think they could at least give me a decent place to sleep!”

  Another laugh came from the purple haired girl across the room. This laugh was less playful. “Careful what you wish for, cutie pie. If you had a real mattress there would be a lot of piss, vomit and unspeakable body fluids mashed into it.”

  Kris frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you never stayed in a hotel? You think they change those mattresses every time a guest leaves? You think this place replaces the mattresses every year?” She made a disgusted face. “They might sanitize the plastic cover, but that’s probably it.”

  Kris took a quick step back from her bed, as if the mattress was suddenly covered in blood and guts. “Oh god, that’s disgusting.”

  “You really aren’t from around here, are you?” Izzy asked as Kris took a deep breath and returned to spreading the sheet over the mattress. Kris shook her head. “And I’m guessing you aren’t from a college town either.”

  Kris stopped tucking the sheet and frowned at her. Was it that obvious that she was a hick girl from a hick town who just took the bus to the city and was scared to death? She suddenly felt naked, vulnerable, alone. She wrapped her arms around herself and asked. “How do you know?”

  “Well… You have the cutest little country girl accent, look absolutely adorable in your high school volleyball t-shirt, and you expect an awful lot from your college.”

  Kris chuckled and sat on the bed to look at Izzy. She suddenly felt very foolish, yet she also felt a connection with Izzy that again, she couldn’t explain. It was as if the girl with the purple hair could see right into her soul.

  Kris shrugged and bit her lip to push back the tears she felt coming on. She said, “I honestly don’t know what to expect. And it’s kind’a scaring the crap out of me.”

  “Well there you go,” Izzy said with an exaggerated wave of her hands. “They key being happy in this world, my little cutie pie, is to have NO expectations. That way, you are never disappointed!”

  Kris smiled and looked around the room. In that moment the reality of how much her life was changing finally hit her with full force. This was it. She had left everything she knew and now belonged to a vast, gray city with different people, different rules, different everything. She had to wonder if she would ever find her place in this strange new world.

  She lay back, resting her head against the pillow she’d brought and closed her eyes as tears prickled them, threatening to spill out. She felt the tiny mattress shift and the scent of vanilla filled her nostrils.

  “You okay?” Izzy asked in a soft tone, her fingers touching Kris’ wrist. Kris opened her eyes and looked down at Izzy’s pale hand on hers, which was deeply tanned from all the time spent outside on the farm.

  She quietly said, “I guess I just feel a little out of place.”

  Izzy’s fingers lowered to cover Kris’ hand. In that moment, Kris had the urge to turn her hand over and wrap her finger around Izzy’s hand. Maybe Izzy could keep her grounded through all of this newness.

  “I’m a native New Yorker.” Izzy said quietly, as if telling a great secret. “Born and raised in the urban jungle. Stick with me and you won’t feel out of place for long. I promise.”

  She gave Kris a smile that immediately made her feel better. She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Kris’ ear. “Who knows, maybe we can even do something about that boring hair.”

  Kris couldn’t help the adoration she felt for the strange girl smiling at her. Izzy had no reason to help Kris. If anything, Kris was bound to be a pain in Izzy’s neck. They were so different.

  In her mind, Kris was as boring and ordinary as a pebble, while Izzy sparkled like a diamond with glitter on top. Still, the fun, punk girl with purple hair and piercings was willing to help her adapt to this new life. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

  The smile that came to Kris’ lips was one of genuine gratitude. She sniffed back the tears and said, “That would be great. Izzy.”

  “You got it, cutie pie!” Izzy sang as she clapped her hands. She pushed herself off Kris’ bed and bounced to her side of the room, dancing to an imaginary tune in her head.

  Kris watched as Izzy went through the contents of her big old suitcase, pulling out clothes, shoes; even some posters and a variety of knickknacks to decorate her side of the room.

  Kris knew at that moment that she had never met anyone quite like Isadora Ryman. Izzy.

  * * *

  Soon, Izzy’s side of the room was decorated with posters of heavy metal bands and naked women covered completely in tattoos. She had several small pillows she tossed on the bed, all decorated with pastel colored alien faces. Kris watched with great interest. It was all so different from the ceramic roosters and pigs that decorated her parents’ farm house and the dreadful pink ballerinas in her old bedroom. She hated those things, though she never told her mother so since she was the source of them. She loved everything Izzy had just thrown across the room. Actually, she was beginning to think she loved everything about Izzy.

  Once she was finished decorating, Izzy looked at Kris and cocked her head to one side. “Don’t you have stuff to put up?”

  Kris shook her head. “No. I didn’t really like anything that I had back home, so I left it there.”

  Izzy grinned and walked over to Kris. She flopped back down on the bed
and threw an arm around Kris’ shoulders, tugging her close. A warm river ran down Kris’ spine.

  “We gotta fix that,” Izzy said. “Dorm rooms are all about expressing yourself and bringing out whatever is inside of you. They’re a blank canvas, you know?”

  Kris thought about it for a moment as she scanned the blank walls on her side of the room. She felt like a blank canvas and couldn’t wait to discover what her decorations would be. She grinned at Izzy and said, “Would you help me?”

  Izzy rested her chin on Kris’ shoulder and said, “Are you ready to find yourself, cutie pie?”

  Kris looked back into her roommate’s blue eyes.

  Absolutely, she thought. With your help, absolutely.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It hadn’t been a lie when Kris told Izzy she was ready to find herself. To know herself and to be comfortable and free in her own skin were the things Kris wanted most in the world, and Izzy was the perfect guide to lead her on that journey.

  As the first months of their freshman year passed the two girls became best friends. With Kris majoring in psychology and Izzy in graphic design they didn’t have any classes together, but every free second they had was spent together.

  One of Kris’ favorite things to do was looking through Izzy’s sketch pads. Kris, who didn’t have an artistic bone in her body, was completely awed by Izzy’s talent. Everything she drew was raw, dark and a little disturbing, but Kris loved it.

  One day, while she was looking through some of Izzy’s old drawings, a picture fell from between the pad’s pages. The picture fell, face down to the floor. As she bent over to pick it up curiosity got the better of her and she flipped it over see what it was.

  In the picture, Izzy—whose hair was bright blue—had her arms around a girl with ink black hair. Her beautiful blue eyes were staring right at the camera as the other girl kissed the corner of her smiling lips.