5
Andy
The night I first met Sophie, I was in a horrible mood.
It was the first week of my sophomore year of college and, unfortunately, my roommates were throwing a party.
I’ve never liked parties, or small talk, or people. But a merciless God left me living with three people who did. They were my friends—still are—but the point stands.
When the party started, I promised them I would stick around for an hour. The minutes ticked by slowly: 58, 59, then freedom. I ducked out at 10:00 exactly, grabbing a beer from a cooler and heading into my room, already dreaming of the feeling of a paperback in my hands.
I once read something about the different types of imagination: Some people read a sentence about a man tossing an apple in the air and can see it like a movie—the colors of the apple, its momentum as it’s tossed, the man’s hand as he catches it, the texture of his skin.
Other people just see the words on the page.
They understand an apple was tossed, but an image doesn’t form in their minds.
I’ve always been closer to the former, and grateful for it.
So when I sat on my bed and cracked open a book and my beer, I was quickly lost to the world.
So much so that I didn’t fully process that the noise I heard—of a door opening and closing—wasn’t just my imagination adding color to the story on the page.
In fact, it wasn’t until I heard a sharp female “Ah!” that I even looked up.
There was a girl standing in the doorway of my bedroom, looking as surprised as I felt.
“Oh my god, there’s a person in here. Jesus, you scared me.”
Gray shirt, jeans, freckles on her cheeks, big hazel eyes made bigger by her shock. I cleared my throat, buying time to think of what to say. I landed on “Uh…”
“Is this your room? I’m so sorry. Why did I think this room would be empty? Not that I make a habit of walking into people’s rooms when I think they’re empty. I swear I do understand boundaries. God, I’m never gonna get invited to a party again...”
I don’t think I’d ever seen someone actually blush before, but her face was turning from cream to pink to red before my very eyes. She alternated between speaking to me and speaking to herself, like her thoughts and her words were in a race.
“It’s… I… are you okay?” I asked, articulate as ever.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “No, I’m fine. It’s fine. I was just… I really didn’t think there would be anyone in here. Sorry again. It was nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me come to a party at your place, and I promise not to barge in anywhere else.”
She spun around to exit through the still open door, but was halted by something she saw to her left.
“There you are,” said a voice. “I was looking for you. We’re starting a new round, come on.”
“Oh.” She took a small step back. “I think I’m going to sit this one out, thanks.”
“No come on, you have to join. I even made you a drink.”
I was already crossing towards her by the time a man appeared in the doorway. Tall, backwards baseball cap, ripped jeans—obviously an asshole.
“No really, I’m okay,” she tried to say, but he was already shoving a red cup into her hands.
“Here, take it, it’s really good I promise.”
“Oh, no thanks.”
“Come on, you don’t trust me? We’ve been talking all night.”
He took hold of her elbow, and a more patient person might have had a more patient reaction, but I didn’t. I inserted myself between them, because who gives a shit if this guy likes me or not, and said, “She said no.”
The guy looked as offended as he was drunk. “Who are you, her boyfriend?”
“Yes, he is,” the girl said without hesitation, grabbing my arm. Her eyes pleaded, Go with it?
So I turned back to him and didn’t bother with pleasantries. “She’s not interested.”
The guy tried to counter with a pathetic “Whatever, she isn’t even that hot,” but the bedroom door was already slamming shut behind him.
Inside my room once again, the girl immediately dropped my arm and put space between us. She was pacing, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Are you… alright?” I asked feebly.
She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I know you don’t want me in here, I just didn’t want to talk to that guy anymore but I also didn’t want to offend him and—”
“That’s okay—”
“—I don’t really know how this kind of thing is supposed to go. There were like 40 people in my high school class, so I haven’t really been to parties like this before. Should I not tell people that? You know what, it’s fine. I’m just going to go back out there.
I bet with a few more drinks it’ll be very easy to have fun. Thank you, again… for… this…”
She gestured vaguely at the room, herself, and the doorway. “And now I’m going to go.”
“You can stay,” I said without thinking. “If you want.”
Her body stilled facing the door, and I was utterly confident that I’d just made an ass of myself. But then she looked back over her shoulder and asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I, uh… needed a break too.” I reached towards my nightstand and lifted the book there in explanation.
The girl released the corners of her mouth into a smile—small but genuine—then flopped against the door in relief. “A man after my own heart. I swear I would give up my firstborn to be at home reading right now.”
In the span of only a few moments, she seemed to completely relax. Her shoulders were looser, posture more casual. I wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Did I do that? Did I make her feel more comfortable? There really was a first time for everything…
“Genre?” she asked, nodding to the book in my hand.
“Oh it’s uh…” I turned the cover towards her. “Biography.”
“Oof, tough. Will you still be my friend if I tell you I hate biographies?”
“I’m your friend now?”
“No, I guess not. You’re more like my savior. Unless you think you can handle being both? That’s a pretty big responsibility.” Her teasing smirk reached its fingers into my chest and grabbed hold.
“Well, I’ve never had a friend whose name I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t have any ghosts in your house growing up?”
“I actually did, but they were my enemies.”
The girl laughed loudly at that, a resonant sound that crackled out of her. The fingers in my chest tightened.
Then the silence fell.
I became acutely aware of our relative positions: me all the way by the bed, her all the way by the door.
Should I walk up to her? Should I say something?
I shouldn’t have asked her to stay. I shouldn’t have stranded her in here with me, some miserable stranger who couldn’t even remember how far apart people are supposed to stand, let alone remember enough words to form a sentence.
But when I actually looked at her face, she didn’t seem miserable. In fact, she was still smiling as she glanced around my room, like she didn’t mind the silence at all.
“The party isn’t too loud and distracting when you’re reading?” she eventually asked, and only then did I realize I was still staring at her. I snapped my gaze away—to the side, anywhere else.
“I—uh…” I cleared my throat. “I have a solution for that. Do you want to see?”
When she tilted her head in curiosity, I nodded towards the bedroom window.
The glass pushed open to the warm night air and a fire escape just big enough for two.
I climbed out first and offered a hand. She stepped onto the landing, then leaned forward against the metal railing, looking out over the dark street as the sounds of the party started to fade.
“Oh yeah, this is way better,” she said. “Thank you.”
I moved next to her, leaning against the railing and taking up all the remaining space. Our shoulders touched. She tilted her chin up to the night sky and squinted, trying to spot a few stars through the bright Boston lights. I had to consciously stop myself from watching her again.
“If you don’t like parties,” I asked, “why’d you come?”
"It’s not that I don’t like parties,” she explained. “I just haven’t been to many. I thought it would be more chatting and less… chugging? And anyway, my roommate brought me. Her brother lives here.”
I mentally sorted through my roommates. Only one of them had a sister a year younger than us. “Your roommate is Nolan’s sister?”
“Maybe? She didn’t say his name. Hers is Amelia though, and she’s having a great time.”
“You could still leave.”
“Hah, it’s nice to meet you too!”
Fuck. Leave it to me to say something horrible the minute I stop thinking. “Sorry. I didn’t… sorry.”
She didn’t seem to take offense though, just shrugged and said, “I feel like I should stick it out. It’s actually my first college party.”
“No…”
“Oh God, was it that obvious? What gave me away?”
“Besides what you told me earlier? Kind of everything,” I admitted. “Didn’t I see you ask if there was alcohol in the seltzers when you got here?”
Even in the low light, I could see the bright blush rising on her cheeks again. “So you’ve been watching me, huh?”
Fuck. Such a fucking idiot.
Before I could deny it, an uproar sounded from the living room, vibrating the fire escape beneath our feet. Both our heads snapped up to look inside, but we couldn’t see past the empty bedroom and its shut door.
“I just don’t get the appeal of that table game at all,” she said, referencing the cause of the commotion. “I feel like I’m not even that drunk, but the sheer volume of Bud Light in my body is almost debilitating.”
She took a seat on the metal landing, then leaned back against the window. Somehow it felt like an invitation, so I sat next to her. Our shoulders touched again.
“You were playing Wide River?” I asked.
“Unfortunately.”
“Did you get to the no-hands level?”
“Horrible,” she chucked. “I haven’t had that much fun since my parents’ divorce.”
Something about that blunt statement from this summer morning of a person had me letting out a real, full-throated laugh. I realized we might have a few things in common.
Then she turned her face towards mine, leaning to rest her temple against the window. “I’m Sophie, by the way.”
“Andy.”
“Nice to meet you, Andy. And thanks again, for everything.”
She turned back to look up at the sky, allowing herself a few moments of quiet before sighing. “I should probably go back in. My roommate will be looking for me.” She stood and opened the window, turning back once to ask, “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Maybe.”
And I wondered if I would. This girl who made me feel a bit more calm and useful and… normal.
I hoped I would.