Sobriety

E I G H T

chapter eight: the dinner with friends

I knocked on the door to room 2c and waited.

No response.

I knocked on the door again, but this time a little harsher.

Still, no response.

I pulled out my phone from the waistband of my sweatpants.

To Nae: I need Keyshawn's phone number ASAP.

Not even a minute later, she responded.

From Nae: Okur girl I see you. Y'all finna get it in?

I rolled my eyes and quickly tapped away on my phone.

To Nae: Just send me the damn number

When Renae finally stopped teasing me, she gave me his number.

"Hello?" He asked, answering the phone.

"Hey, Keyshawn. Are you here?"

I heard a ding in the background, "I'm getting in the elevator right now. I had to go to the grocery store. I'll be up there in like, two seconds."

"Okay, bye," I replied. Taking the phone away from my ear.

"Bye baby." I heard him distinctively say.

Baby.

I usually hated when Cam called me 'babe'. It made me feel like he couldn't remember my name. But when Keyshawn called me 'baby', it sounded different.

It sounded right.

I leaned against the wall next to the door, with a smile teasing my lips.

I heard the elevator open and the sound of crinkling grocery bags. I watched Keyshawn struggle, he was holding at least five grocery bags in each hand.

I walked towards him, holding my hand out, "here, let me help."

"No, I got it," He said, swinging his hand behind him so I couldn't reach the bags.

"No you don't, Keyshawn. Let me help you," I said again, taking a step towards him.

He shook his head. I guess I have to do this the hard way, then.

I lunged forward, grabbing his hand and tried to pull the bags out of his hand. Tingles ran up my hand, like had he just shocked me.

I tried to wrestle the bags out of his hand for a while, but he had an iron tight grip on them.

I looked up at him, his face close to me, "Let go." I said, getting annoyed that I couldn't unwrap his fingers from around the bags. "How're you going to open the door while holding all these bags," I challenged.

He let out a breath, loosening his grip of the bags in his left hand. He transferred the bags into my hand, before placing his hand on my waist and shuffling past me. The hallway caused his body to brush against mine, creating friction between us.

"See, it wasn't that hard to give me a few bags," I said, following him as he got closer to the door.

"I know, but I didn't want you to have to carry my shit," he responded, glancing over his shoulder to look at me while he opened the door.

"Sometimes, it's okay to ask for help," I stated as he stepped aside and let me enter his dorm — apartment thingy — first.

I looked around the space in awe. It was way bigger than I had originally expected. The first thing that caught my eye was the openness of the entire room.