The Favor (A TKB AU)

6. Promise

"So when you said you knew a place... you meant a storage closet? Yeah, I definitely see the appeal." Elle comments skeptically as I open an unmarked door down the hall from my suite.

"Patience, Shelly."

The room we've just entered is long and narrow, filled with surplus dressers and bookcases, and the door at the other end is hard to see. Hard to see, and very often unlocked. The custodians know, and they know we know, but our unspoken bargain is that they'll keep forgetting to lock it so long as no one does anything stupid up on the roof. Because that's what's behind that door—a steep, cobwebby stairway to the roof.

"You weren't kidding about the spiders," Elle complains.

"They're friendly, trust me."

"This door's not going to lock behind us, is it?" Elle sounds concerned as we reach the top of the stairs and exit onto the roof.

"That's what this cinder block is for."

"And being up here is cool with campus police?"

"Nope. So try to stay away from the edges where someone could see you."

"Awesome. Getting caught trespassing will really impress the admissions committee."

"It's fine, Elle. I come up here all the time."

"Oh, I see. And do you bring all the girls up here, or just the ones you're trying to get arrested?" Her tone is joking but her eyes are harder to read.

"I bring nobody up here." Except Elle, but that seems unnecessary to point out.

Elle doesn't reply, and for a few minutes we eat our breakfasts in silence. There are still orange and pink traces of the sunrise in the distance, and while the setting isn't as impressive as my favorite hideout back home, it offers similar solitude.

Elle finishes her muffin, then carefully folds its wrapper into tinier and tinier shapes before finally breaking the silence.

"We can't do this. I mean, what happened earlier—it can't happen again."

And there it is, that landmine we've been stepping around.

"Probably not. It was fun, though."

I immediately regret trying to lighten the mood, but Elle laughs as she blushes. And when she looks up again, she's actually looking me in the eye for the first time since my alarm went off.

"Yeah, it was." There's a sly smile playing at her lips, but then her expression turns resolute. "But I'm serious, Noah. This can't happen."

She's saying exactly what I've been telling myself since she crash-landed into my bed—actually, since the party—but hearing her say it makes me want to disagree, to argue we can, just out of stubbornness. And maybe not just stubbornness, but some foolish delusion, too, that there's some way this isn't impossible. But she's right.

Elle seems to be waiting for me to say something, but when I don't, she goes on, looking uneasy again. "I know it's just how you operate, but it's not how I operate. Especially not with —"

"How I operate? What are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean." Elle gestures vaguely, her eyes avoiding mine again. "Meaningless hooking up."

"Elle, I wasn't— it wasn't like that. That's not why —" I trail off, realizing I have no idea what I'm trying to say. It wasn't meaningless. But it also can't be meaningful, because it can't happen. And nothing about this weekend has been how I operate, but there's no good way to say that.