Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
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I don't remember when I fell asleep. I don't remember much in the haze I've awaken in. It takes me a few seconds for everything to dawn back on me. A few seconds to realize I have someone draped over my chest snoring lightly into me. Not just someone, but Summer.
God is she beautiful. Not just in terms of looks, but when you add everything together, every piece I've seen of her so far, I can best describe it as beautiful. The good and the bad.
She's dangerous. This girl is a fucking lethal shot of heroin in the making. I shouldn't go anywhere near the needle, I know that well, but why is it so goddamn tempting?
Note to self: Always lock your door when you do laundry.
After carefully reaching for my phone without stirring Summer, I realize we've have been sleeping for eight hours. I also realize how light my head feels. How alert and conscious I am compared to earlier, when everything was hazy and I felt like a shell of myself. I still feel lethargic and my throat remains sour, but this is something I can work with. I've gained back a majority of the control my body took away from me. It's a relief to no longer feel helpless.
As if she can sense the amount of time that's passed in her dreams, she stirs up out of her sleep. "What time is it?" Her breathing is heavy.
"It's two in the morning."
I watch her rub sleep out of her eyes, then pull her hair tie out to comb her fingers through her matted hair.
"Crap. I was suppose to go home hours ago." She yawns, stretching her arms.
I don't want to seem like a creep, but I can't stop myself from taking in little details of her. Like the back of her neck when she lifts her hair. It's...nice. A deep brown color that matches the rest of her skin. I laugh at myself. Why the hell am I going up about the back of someone's neck? Of all the things.
"Hey, are you still feeling disoriented?"she says.
"No, I'm a lot better." I cough to relieve the awkwardness I feel from the thought of her knowing I'm analyzing her neck.
"Okay, I was just saying I really need to get back to my room. I've got papers due in my writing and communications class, and I need to study for my first pharmacology exam."
I understand commitment. Needing to focus your time and energy on something that's important to you no matter what. If it was anyone else, I would fully encourage them to do what they need to do in the name of their commitment, but with Summer, I find myself not wanting to let her go. Now that I've tasted a warm bed, I don't quite want to go back to a cold one just yet.
I can feel the metaphorical needle inching towards my wrist as I speak. "It's late. I think you should stay until sunrise, then I can take you back to your dorm."
"That's not necessary," she says, "I can just walk back."
"No. Driving you home is the first part of my payback."
