Chapter One: The Elevator

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Chapter One: The Elevator

“Yo, hold it!”

Ignoring the command, Cassidy instead studied the tragic casualty: her stiletto. The spiky heel hung like a broken limb and one glance determined there was no hope for the once sexy shoe. As Cassidy shifted the weight of her petite frame onto her bare foot, her attention snapped to another large foot that had halted the closing elevator door. 

The imposter pried the heavy barrier open as if it was a shower curtain and strolled in casually. With the door closing behind him, the boy glanced up at Cassidy and emitted a thunderous, humiliating laugh.

“Morning. Nice outfit,” the unfamiliar boy managed to chortle out before again erupting to laughter. Carelessly, he swung his maroon, college-issued gym bag to the opposite and equally as muscular shoulder. He was clearly an athlete, probably a lacrosse player, and a rude one at that. Cassidy indignantly slumped against the mirrored wall furthest from him, shooting icy looks that she hoped were threatening.

“It was for a super-hero themed party, you idiot. If you were anybody, you probably would have been there too,” she spat. Immediately wishing she could retract the statement, which she knew was reminiscent of a middle school comeback, Cassidy attempted to maintain her cold demeanor. But her traitorous cheeks reddened, and she hoped they didn’t blow her cover.

Clad in an impossibly tight leather body suit, Cassidy silently prayed the boy wouldn’t call her out. For all she knew, the frat party could have been a complete bust. She had played only a single round before her beer-pong partner had suggested they head to his room to rate the likeness of her Catwoman costume to his comic books.  Despite the dull-witted and cheesy pick-up attempt, the pair had indeed ventured to his room. Predictably, the only mention made of the costume was how to remove it.

Leaning lazily on the elevator wall, the boy’s lips twisted into an impish smirk. Cassidy waited for a sarcastic retort from him, but he maintained the smile and remained silent, much like a statue. She rolled her eyes and huffed audibly, hoping to communicate her irritation. If she hadn’t been so infuriated, Cassidy might have mentally credited the boy for his good looks. She might have noted his flawless tanned face or his deep brown eyes, and she may even have plotted to get him on The List. Yet on this morning, Cassidy was nothing short of enraged and he was nothing short of an asshole.

The shrill ding signaled they had reached the fourth floor and Cassidy, with her single stiletto, wobbled unsteadily towards door. As soon as light from the dormitory hallway spilled into the elevator, Cassidy began to squeeze her tiny body out exit and away from the boy. “I’ll see you around,” the stranger called from the elevator, “Kitty Cassie.”

Hearing the nickname she loathed most from a stranger, a stunned Cassidy spun on her remaining heel and faced the boy. The door was millimeters from shutting completely, but she could just make out a mischievous grin. Her stiletto angrily hit the elevator entrance the exact moment the door closed entirely and muted laughter sounded, slowly fading away.

“Where were you last night, Missy?” Olivia cooed with a knowing grin as Cassidy threw open their dorm room door. “Or better question, who were you with last night?” Olivia asked impatiently.

Throwing her short blond bob into a sloppy ponytail, she continued, “I need a name, give me his name please! First and last preferably, but I can work with either,” finishing with her deceptively sweet signature smile. Her hands hovered above her laptop keyboard in anticipation, ready to stalk Cassidy’s playmate and scrutinize every bit of him. Ignoring her roommate’s demands, Cassidy mumbled, “No idea.”

“No idea? Sid! Again, seriously? You are freaking unbelievable, Jesus! And now I can’t even see what he looks like!” Olivia shouted. To that, Cassidy rolled her celery green eyes and smiled.

“Okay Liv, calm down. I don’t really remember what he looks like specifically, but I’m pretty positive he was just okay. Nothing special either way, so you didn’t miss anything, I promise.”

Olivia pouted and muttered something incoherently while Cassidy attempted to wriggle out of the skin-tight costume that had caused her so much grief. Several minutes passed before Cassidy admitted defeat.

“Shit, Liv! Help me!” she cried when her long dark hair became hopelessly entangled with the costume’s strap. Olivia cackled in response and leapt towards her desk, grabbing at something in her draw.

“I’ll help you, my pretty,” she joked while yielding a threatening pair of silver scissors.

Cassidy’s eyes grew large. “Liv, I’d kill you. I’d probably do it with those scissors too just to spite you,” she said.

The pair locked eyes like they were in a heated gun stand-off.  Though Cassidy narrowed her cat-like eyes at her friend and roommate, she knew Olivia would never actually hurt her. They had met their freshmen year in Statistics 112 when Cassidy nearly fainted upon the realization that she had forgotten a project, which was worth nearly a quarter the final grade. Seeing the color leave Cassidy's face, Olivia walked right up to the professor and hotly demanded that an extension be given because the course syllabus had never specified whether “9/10/09” meant September 10th and could have signified October 9th. Though the professor had docked both girls’ points, Cassidy for her tardy assignment and Olivia for her attitude, the two remained inseparable after the unfortunate event.

“Oh, calm down! I’m not actually going it do it,” Olivia exclaimed, “So get your ass over here so I can untangle you. You’re a hot mess and you can’t take a joke. Sad, sad combo if you ask me.”

After Olivia had saved her roommate along with her hair, Cassidy recounted to Olivia the events in the elevator with an excruciating attention to detail. She even embellished the story with dramatic pauses and theatrical rhetoric, hoping to accurately portray the full extent of the stranger’s offensiveness. She finished the narrative nearly panting with anger, remembering his use of “Cassie,” a name she detested.

In reply, Olivia yawned languidly and stated, “Siddy, you’re a drama queen. He probably wasn’t even rude; you just hate guys for some insane reason. It’s like you’re always suspicious or something. Which is actually really ironic because you’re so slu--”

“Okay Liv, I get it! You really don’t need to elaborate,” Cassidy said, cringing. Olivia was blunt, but her observations were always accurate.

“Fine by me,” Olivia shrugged, “Now go get The List so we add your latest victim.” Cassidy pouted and obeyed her demanding friend while Olivia giggled evilly.

As Olivia chattered about adding “John Doe 4” onto the growing list of her roommate’s sexual conquests, Cassidy’s thoughts drifted back to the boy in the elevator and her curiousity grew.

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