“Is this okay?” he asks, tentatively pressing a palm against my thigh.
I nod breathlessly. Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be? Should it not be okay?
He grips my thigh with one hand and cups my face with the other, and my insides flutter again. Shit, I’m not sure what to do with my hands. Does he want me to touch him back? If so, where? I try to picture a romantic scene from a movie, but my flustered brain comes up empty. Plus, we’re in a car, so nothing feels quite right. It’s all so awkward. Is it always this awkward?
The hand on my inner thigh creeps toward my crotch, and my heart thuds hard against my ribs, and it’s?—
It’s suddenly not okay.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I rip myself free from his grip and shove his hand away.
There’s a beat of stunned silence, and I stare blankly at the floorboard.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“No,I’msorry,” he says earnestly. “Did I cross a line? I thought you said it was?—”
“It was okay, and then it… wasn’t,” I say with a shrug, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
I chew on my lip for several moments, considering his words. Am I not ready? I really thought I’d be ready by now. Am I ever going to be ready? What does that even mean?
“Are you okay?”
“I’m going to go,” I declare, feeling my way to the door handle and reaching for my hoodie.
As I open the car door, the interior floods with light, and I can’t help but squint. I climb out of the car, only to crane awkwardly down to peer back inside before leaving.
My date’s face crumples with defeat. “Oliver, wait, hold?—”
“Thank you for the date,” I continue. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear. This is a ‘me’ problem.”
“Still, I think we should?—”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
And with that, I shut the door and quickly make my way up the driveway, digging the keys out of my pocket.
I should have known I wasn’t ready.
Saturday, August 23, 2025
“Welcome to Eidola University! Students, please check in with a volunteer to receive your dorm keys and welcome packet!”
The dormitory lobby is crawling with other students and adults, wheeling handcarts stacked high with boxes, bins, and luggage. It’s chaotic but expected on the Saturday before fall semester classes start.
In the midst of the mayhem, a stressed-out woman in a bright purple polo holds a clipboard. Her nametag reads Caroline. “The elevators behind me go to Lanier Hall. The elevators to Marshall Hall are just ahead on your left, and the elevators to Oakland Hall are to the right. Welcome to The Village!”
“Thanks,” Dad murmurs her way, then looks at me. “Which hall?”
My mind goes completely blank. Shit. I know we’re in The Eidola Village Residential Complex, the largest of the main dormitories at Eidola University, and I remember that our four-bedroom, two-bathroom dorm number 319 is on the third floor. I didn’t realize there were separate halls to remember, too.
Luckily for me, however, I’m sharing the dorm with a responsible rule-follower who actually pays attention and remembers things when he’s supposed to. He also happens to be my closest friend in the world. I immediately glance at Theo, who doesn’t miss a beat. He nods to the right. “Oakland Hall.”
I smile with relief. “Heard, chef. Lead the way!”
