“Travis,” I sighed.
When I said his name, he pressed his cheek against mine, and his movements became more rigid. The noises from his throat grew louder, and he finally pressed inside me one last time, groaning and quivering above me.
After a few moments, he relaxed and let his breathing slow.
“That was some first kiss,” I said with a tired, content expression.
He scanned my face and smiled. “Your last first kiss.”
I was too shocked to reply.
He collapsed beside me on his stomach, stretching one arm across my middle, and resting his forehead against my cheek. I ran my fingers along the bare skin of his back until I heard his breathing even out.
I lay awake for hours, listening to Travis’s deep breaths and the wind weaving through the trees outside. America and Shepley came in the front door quietly, and I heard them tiptoe down the hall, murmuring to each other.
We had packed my things earlier in the day, and I flinched at how uncomfortable the morning would be. I had thought once Travis slept with me his curiosity would be satiated, but instead he was talking about forever. My eyes snapped shut with the thought of his expression when he learned that what had happened between us wasn’t a beginning, it was closure. I couldn’t go down that road, and he would hate me when I told him.
I maneuvered out from under his arm and got dressed, carrying my shoes with me down the hall to Shepley’s room. America sat on the bed, and Shepley was pulling off his shirt in front of the closet.
“Everything okay, Abby?” Shepley asked.
“Mare?” I said, signaling for her to join me in the hall.
She nodded, watching me with cautious eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to take me to Morgan now. I can’t wait ’til tomorrow.”
One side of her mouth turned up with a knowing smile. “You never could handle goodbyes.”
Shepley and America helped me with my bags, and I stared out the window of America’s car on my journey back to Morgan Hall. When we set down the last of the bags in my room, America grabbed me.
“It’s going to be so different in the apartment, now.”
“Thanks for bringing me home. The sun will be up in a few hours. You better go,” I said, squeezing once before letting go.
America didn’t look back when she left my room, and I chewed my lip nervously, knowing how angry she would be when she realized what I’d done.
My shirt crackled as I pulled it over my head; the static in the air had intensified with the coming winter. Feeling a bit lost, I curled into a ball underneath my thick comforter and inhaled through my nose; Travis’s scent still lingered on my skin.
The bed felt cold and foreign, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Travis’s mattress. I had spent thirty days in a cramped apartment with Eastern’s most infamous tramp, and after all the bickering and late-night houseguests, it was the only place I wanted to be.
· · ·
The phone calls began at eight in the morning, and then every five minutes for an hour.
“Abby!” Kara groaned. “Answer your stupid phone!”
I reached over and turned it off. It wasn’t until I heard the banging on the door that I realized I wouldn’t be allowed to spend the day holed up in my room as planned.
Kara yanked on the knob. “What?”
America pushed past her, and stood beside my bed. “What in the hell is going on?” she yelled. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was still in her pajamas.
I sat up. “What, Mare?”
“Travis is a fucking wreck! He won’t talk to us, he’s trashed the apartment, threw the stereo across the room … Shep can’t talk any sense into him!”
I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hand and blinked. “I don’t know.”