Sleight of Heart -- [COMPLETED]

“You can’t be mad at me, are you?” she asks incredulously. “Just because I decide to have fun with someone else?” “Don’t flatter yourself,” I snipe in a barely controlled voice. “We just met today. I don’t care who you decide to ‘have fun’ with.” Unsure of how much I actually believe in that statement, I manage to pull from her grip and continue to the front door. She follows me inside and silently watches as I hesitate in my step. I had started to head upstairs, but now that my frustrations are renewed, I don’t want to face Darryl yet. No one else in the hall needs their rest disturbed by the argument we are clearly headed for. With a frustrated grunt, I stomp over to the sofa and collapse onto its firm cushions face first. My nose is immediately assaulted by a stuffy-yet-cheesy smell, and I’m pretty sure a corn chip pokes my stomach. It really can’t be worse than my bed at the moment though. “Why aren’t you going to your room?” Her voice carries genuine confusion instead of annoyance now. My face buried in the cushion, I refuse to answer her. Seconds pass before I hear Marilyn again. “You can’t sleep down here.” Sleeping in the lobby should help provide new perspective. If Darryl would prove to be this inconsiderate… insulting… insane already, then I didn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the semester… not as anything more than a roommate. The only thing I need to make clear to him is that we are no longer friends. We’ll be able to work through this semester as long as he doesn’t touch my stuff or speak to me. Oh, and I can’t forget to burn the bed covers... just turn them into a complete pile of smoldering ash. Maybe the mattress too. I’m sure the school would agree that’s the best course of action once I tell campus police why I decided to start a bonfire in my room. The familiar touch of cool fingers resting on my arm breaks the thought-rambling doze coming on. But the next words that escape her lips in a whisper stave sleep. “Come to my room.” I stare back at her, unsure if the words I heard were actually uttered from her mouth. She nods, as if to answer my unspoken question. Her hand sliding down my arm and to my fingers, she grasped my palm and gently pulled. In the moment that I don’t budge, our eyes lock. Though her face is shadowed, her eyes almost gave off an eerie aura with their clarity in the dark. In the next moment, I push off from the couch. I don’t know why my body moves, but it goes along with her desire. “Guys aren’t allowed on the girls’ side after curfew.” I recall that much from the guidelines when I first heard about the dorm being coed. Marilyn smiles back at me. “Then you better be very quiet.” She leads me to the entrance of the girls’ side and gestures for me to hang back while she peeks inside. The lights running along the ceiling were dimmed, but I couldn’t see anyone moving down the length of the hall. I don’t need to actually. Narrowing my focus, I only detect a couple of subtle movements. Nothing big enough to make me think someone would soon step into the hall. Marilyn quickly signals for me to follow her, and she doesn’t have to tell me to be quiet. I practically walk on my toes as she leads me to the stairwell and up to the third floor. I can’t remember what the actual punishment is if we’re caught, but at least I won’t be going down by myself if it comes to that.

All’s quiet when she opens the squeaking door to her floor and glances inside. A couple of quick glances later, she guides me into the hall and two doors down from the stairwell. She quickly grabs the knob and gives it a turn that causes a click to echo down the otherwise quiet hall. For a moment, I sense movement directly behind us, but Marilyn quickly ushers me inside and breaks my focus. She slips in with barely a sound and carefully shuts the door behind us, locking it to be sure. Once the door closes, I notice the vast difference between her room and mine. The first thing that catches my eye is her carpeted floor which is a very bland gray, compared to her night shirt. Her side of the room had already been decorated with various posters of rock bands I barely recognize the names of. Her disheveled but colorfully made bed had been lifted to its maximum height, allowing her to fit both a mini-fridge and microwave under it along with several pairs of dressy heels. A couple luggage bags sit open on the floor in front of the dresser, but I can’t make out what’s in them due to the only light coming from streetlights outside the open window. However, I clearly see the other side of the room is still completely bare. Weird how I never considered her roommate before now. The spare mattress must be why she easily invited me to her room. “Stay quiet,” Marilyn whispers while heading to the window and lowering the blinds. Nearly plunging the room in complete darkness, Marilyn continues, “You can sleep here, but we’ll have to wake up early so I can sneak you out before everyone’s walking the halls.” “Right,” I whisper back with a nod, as if she could see it. Getting back to the first floor shouldn’t be much of a problem, but it wouldn’t amount to anything if there was a single person in the lobby. Nothing in the world would keep me from being spotted coming out of the girls’ side and into that wide open space. What in the world am I getting myself into? “I’m beat,” I hear Marilyn whisper as she silently steps toward her bed. “Kick off your shoes… and whatever else you like,” I can almost hear the devious grin on her face, “and get into bed.” The thought of undressing in front of her deeply bothered me, even though barely any light peeked through the blinds. She definitely wouldn’t be able to see me. After a heavy sigh I know she hears, I step out of my shoes and unbutton my jeans. I hear her climb into bed and the sound of the mattress giving in to her weight causes me to turn my back to her. I shake my head. She can’t see me. Inhaling deeply and quietly, I lower the zipper and let my pants drop to the carpet with a light rustle. Marilyn doesn’t make a sound, which is a comfort. I carefully sit on the edge of the empty bed and pull the denim around my ankles along with my socks. When my legs start to relax from finally sitting down, I’m reminded how much I really need to give them a break. Just as I swing my legs onto the cool mattress, Marilyn shifts in her bed. “Hey!” she whispers sternly. “Not that bed!” My eyes dart around the darkness for a few seconds. She couldn’t really intend for me to lay next to her all night. “What?” I cautiously ask. “You heard me. Get over here.”

I couldn’t hear the slightest bit of amusement in her voice now. Almost immediately, I stand from the mattress, but it takes several seconds and numerous conflicting feelings before I can take a step closer to her bed. She doesn’t say a word, but it feels like her clear eyes watch every nervous step I make in her direction. When I reach her bed, my mind races for some kind of excuse not to do this. The bed won’t support both of us? It’s too hot for us to be so close? At that moment, the air conditioning system kicks on and starts spewing out cool air through the vents in the ceiling, as if denying me a possible escape. I exhale and extend my hand toward the bed. Instead of feeling fabric at the tips of my fingers, they rest upon warm flesh. Ignoring my first instinct to pull my hand back, I extend the palm of my right hand to caress what I start to believe is her thigh. She exhales lightly and doesn’t move. She allows my hand to slide toward her waist until it hits the hem of her oversized shirt. I decide to stop while I’m ahead. I can already feel my accelerating heartbeat pumping blood in the wrong direction. Marilyn doesn’t help things. She extends her legs to wrap around my waist, drawing me closer to her. I brace myself, a hand on either thigh to steady her. A second passes. Her fingers find their way to my head, combing through my hair moments before pulling me forward. I barely have time to think before her lips press against mine. The scent of strawberries in my nostrils and the taste of cherries on my lips scatter my thoughts… my logic. My arm slips around her waist and pulls her even closer. She doesn’t fight me. She barely comes up for air between biting my tongue and slipping hers into my mouth. No one had ever been so aggressive before, but I don’t push her away this time. I won’t. She yanks up my shirt. While I pull it completely off, her nails dig into my side and back. However, the stinging they cause isn’t nearly as bad as her teeth when they sink into my chest. Then in the next instant, she kisses the spot as if that quickly heals the pain. I manage to keep my groans lower than the aircon, but they still utter louder than I’d like with each nip and scratch. However, when my hand slips under Marilyn’s shirt, she suddenly gasps and grabs my forearm. “Wait…” she whispers. I can barely make out her silhouette although her face is apparently lowered. The deep, calming breaths she takes exhale on my still arm. Her legs release me several seconds later, but her hand still grips my arm. She turns around but keeps her fingers in place, pulling me as she lies down with her back to me. Unsure of what just happened, I climb into bed behind her, and she holds my arm around her waist. Even though nervousness starts to sink back into my mind, Marilyn nestles back against my chest before whispering, “Sorry.” “For what?” The question comes out by reflex. I don’t actually need to know what shut her down. As long as I don’t cross any personal line of hers… “Nothing,” she whispers. “Just hold me… please.” Her fingers interlock with mine while my hand rests on her stomach. Seconds pass, turning into minutes and me losing track of time. Before long, I hear Marilyn’s breaths grow deeper. Her grip on my hand loosens slightly. Somehow, she manages to drift off to dream land while my mind is still a jumble of thoughts. My first night on campus, and somehow I’m not even in my assigned room. A small nervous twitch pesters my head every time I hear a door open on the hall. It happens a couple times before I gather up enough focus to sense lone individuals walking to and from the same door. When I really concentrate, I can also faintly hear the sound of water running during one person’s trip. This isn’t going to work. I’ll never get to sleep if I can’t relax. I close my eyes and try to focus only on my breathing. If I can just shut out the rest of the world and listen to nothing but my breaths and Marilyn’s, then maybe—just maybe—I can find relaxation just long enough to let sleep creep in and envelope my thoughts. Maybe I should try that sheep counting thing.

When a small hand gently caresses my cheek, I stir calmly from my rest. My eyes still feel heavy when I try to open them. At first, things are a blur, much like my memory. After a couple rapid blinks, my vision clears enough to see a shadowed face smiling at me behind a few disheveled braids. Then the previous day’s events come rushing back. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Marilyn whispers. “You snore.” I roll my eyes. “Shut up.” I don’t remember when I dozed off, but I know I didn’t wake up before now. Weird. Even when I go on vacations with my family, I have problems sleeping in hotel beds on the first night. Yet, the first time I’ve ever shared a bed with someone, I sleep like a rock? How does that work? “How long have you been up?” Marilyn shrugs. “A few minutes?” “And you just watched me?” She smiles. “I could’ve bitten you, but your shouting would’ve gotten both of us in trouble.” After a moment of silence where she rests her hand on my chest, Marilyn snuggles close and leans her head closer. “You never let go the entire night.” It takes a moment before I realize what she means. Then I wonder if she mentions it as a good thing or a bad thing. “I was trying to be comforting, not clingy.” Marilyn quickly shakes her head. “No, you were perfect. You didn’t even try to kiss me, did you?” “Didn’t think you wanted me to anymore.” Although, the thought never had a chance of crossing my mind. I tell myself that she stopped for a good reason last night, and that’s all I need to know. With that same grin of hers, she sits up, throws a leg across me and straddles my waist. “Oh, I want you to do much more.” Steadying her with my hands on her legs again, I look up at her with the best unimpressed face I can manage. “Is this going to be a thing?” I ask while nodding at her. “Why do you keep ending up on top of me?” “I like to be in charge,” she answers with a light giggle, “but as you can already see, we’ve got a problem.” When Marilyn looks back towards the blinds, it hits me like a brick. The rays of light peeking through narrow slits are much brighter than the lampposts had done. “What time is it?” I immediately ask. She leans forward, reaching for her phone that’s sitting on the stand next to the head of the bed. I don’t think she cares in the slightest that her shirt completely blinds me for those seconds. “It’s a little after seven.” So I was out for a solid five hours at least? And what’s worse, more people will be moving into the dorm as the day progresses… possibly even Marilyn’s roommate. “So, I’m stuck. Soon as I step into the lobby, everyone will see me. Can’t traverse the roof because the lobby connects the girls’ and guys’ side, and it’s only a story high.”

Placing her phone back on the stand, Marilyn lies down on my chest, letting her braids flop into my face. “You could always spend the day as my hostage. Then I can sneak you out tonight.” Pushing her hair away, I frown. “Not even an option.” “Aw…” she moans playfully. “Fine. Let me take care of it.” In a single motion, Marilyn hops down from the bed and flips the light switch by the door. I squint to allow my eyes a couple seconds of adjusting while she continues over to her closet and flings it open. Wondering what she has planned, I watch silently as she rifles through clothes-filled hangers for several seconds before picking out a light blue and white, cloud patterned tank top along with a pair of light blue capris. She tosses the top onto the foot of the bed and slides the capris off its hanger. As she starts to pull the fabric over the curves of her legs, it suddenly dawns on me that this is the figure that lay next to me through the night. If any average guy finds out that nothing happened, they’ll probably call me stupid or worse. After she pulls the capris over her hips and I notice how form-fitting they are, she faces me. “You know, a gentleman looks away while a lady dresses herself.” If nothing else, Marilyn is extremely hard to read. One moment, she’s throwing herself at me and the next, she’s bathing in a river of modesty. However, since I don’t want to add to the trouble I’m probably already in, I turn around and face the wall. “So, I’m a gentleman now?” “In my eyes you are.” She tosses her tie-dye shirt on my head and pinches my butt before grabbing her tank top. I flinch hard and barely manage to suppress another manly yelp. She just giggles to her heart’s content. “And yours are the actions of a lady?” “I never said I was a lady,” she quickly fires back. Then she smacks my butt a moment later. “Now get dressed, Karl. When I call my phone, get down to the lobby as fast as you can—and as quietly as you can—without being seen by anyone on the halls. Okay?” Nodding silently, I crawl out of bed and snatch my pants from the floor first. “Oh, and bring my phone with you,” she adds when her hand reaches the doorknob. “Got it.” I look over at her, and for a second, there’s a strange stare between us. Even though she’s looking directly at me with no visible expression, I get the feeling her thoughts are a million miles away. But she doesn’t speak again. She quickly exits the room and shuts the door behind her. Her pattering steps fade for a couple seconds before I hear the stairwell door squeak open. Still wondering what she has planned, I hurriedly finish clothing myself. As I step into my sneakers, I can begin to feel movements on the floor. Five people are moving about, including one person in the room directly across from Marilyn’s in the midst of a constant stream of air being pushed out from one corner of the room. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I sensed movement in there last night while sneaking in. I didn’t have time to dwell on that though. Instead, I focus on traffic below me. Two people move about constantly at opposite ends of the hall, another stream of air bellows in a separate room, and a steady cascade falls not far from it. All the sensations are familiar—exercising, a fan, shower—but not what I need. Moving beyond, to the first floor is a bit of a strain. A slight twinge of pain near my right temple makes itself known as I keep pushing. A single person walks slowly down the hall. For a second, I can’t sense her. In the next, she’s several feet away. This loss of sensation is familiar as well. There are too many solid layers between me and the air on the first floor, interfering with my ability to detect minute disturbances consistently. The only option is to wait until I get into the stairwell near the first floor.

Immediately, I stop concentrating and let my mind relax. It takes a few seconds, but the twinge near my temple dies down as well. It’s been a while since I tried testing the limits of my ability, and I remember why. That irritating pain in my head is no joke if I really press my awareness. A creepy sensation skitters down my spine when memories of the last attempt begin to surface but is quickly cut off by a sudden ringing phone. It takes a moment for me to realize it is Marilyn’s. I quickly snatch it from the nightstand and press the green icon on the screen during its second ring. “Yeah?” I answer in a hushed voice. “Go now,” she commanded. After a deep breath, I focus on the hallway again. It’s all clear outside. I pull open the door and sneak out into the hall, closing the door behind me as silently as I can manage while already stepping briskly toward the stairwell. Soon as I enter the stairwell, it becomes easier to sense movements on the first floor. I slow up descending the stairs when I sense two people walking the hall, heading away from the lobby. When I pass the second floor entrance, the movements of the pair seem to disappear at the same time. I still cautiously watch my steps while nearing the first floor. Even before I reach the door, I hear female voices echo just beyond. I don’t need my ability to know they had stopped to chatter in plain view of where I would enter. Also, I don’t need it to hear a door open above me and flip-flops clap into the stairwell. Hearing the steady clapping draw near sends my thoughts into a rush as I hug the door. I’m so screwed. With my back to the door, I stare back the way I came… waiting for the descending female to get me kicked off campus before my first class. “See ya,” I barely hear one of the voices in the hall echo before a door opens. A flip-flop clap later, another door opens. I nearly yank open the door to the hall and make a beeline to the lobby, no longer caring who catches a glimpse of my backside. Either way, I’m screwed. I barge into the lobby populated with half a dozen people, not including the person working the front desk and Marilyn standing in the middle of the room with her back to me. All eyes turn to me in that instance, and a second later, they go about their business as if I’m not standing there. “What the…” I mutter, edging toward Marilyn. I half expect the desk worker to jump down my throat, but not a word is uttered in my direction. “What’s going on?” I ask Marilyn once I’m within earshot. “What took you?” she asks, barely audible since her back is still turned to me. I start to answer when I realize she’s choosing not to face me. When I slowly step to her side, I can see a faint blue glow lighting her draping braids a moment before she turns away. Concerned, I reach out to grab her shoulder. “Don’t touch me,” she demands, and I pull my arm back. Funny thing though. I had no intention of pulling my arm back. It just happens of its own accord, and I don’t have the slightest clue why. Before I can question her about what’s wrong, the door to the guys’ side opens. Marilyn takes that as her cue to snatch her phone from my hand and hurry back toward her side. I want to follow after her, but my legs won’t move, and I swear I think I hear her whisper “I’m sorry” before she’s safely on her side of the dorm again. Mulling things over for several seconds, I can’t figure out a logical explanation to what had just happened. “Hey, dude. Where were you?” No sooner did the voice register in my ears, I spin around. Two steps close the distance. A renewed rage burns through my arm. With all the power my tightly clenched fist can muster, I punch the hell out of my roommate’s face.