Page 30 of Under the Influence

“What are you doing?” I ask, her head snapping back to her laptop and closing it.

“Nothing, just over here trapped in my tower.”

I smile, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”

She giggles, blowing me off, “Well, goodnight.”

“Wait!” I whisper-shout. “Come over.”

She glances around her room, then at the ground. “I can’t, it’s 11 o’clock, and they’ll kill me. Besides, the Yankees are playing the Red Sox, and it’s close.”

Her love for the game that I love makes me even more attracted to her, “Fine, I’ll come to you.”

“No!” she huffs, desperation in her voice. “No. I’ll just, I’ll sneak down.”

I laugh as I watch her slowly open her bedroom door and tiptoe away. A couple of seconds later, she appears in my yard with her arms crossed, staring up at me, “Aren’t you going to come down?”

“No, you’re coming up,” I wink. “There is a game on, you know.”

Her attitude flares, “What! There’s no way I can get up there without your parents seeing me.”

I point to a ladder pushed behind the hedges against the house. “That’s what the ladder is for.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. No way! I’m not some late-night booty call that uses a ladder just like all the other girls at school. No.”

I laugh, “The only person that uses that ladder is Nash.”

She stares at me for a moment, huffs, then yanks the ladder out, perching it against the house. I hold it still for her and help her into my window.

“Wow,” she breathes, glancing around the room. “Your room is so... clean.”

“Thanks?”

“No,” she laughs. “That’s good. It’s just unexpected.”

“Not all teenage boys live in pig styes.”

“Noted,” she smiles, hiding the sliver of her stomach with her arms.

“Are you cold?” I ask, noticing the goosebumps trailing her arms.

“A little, but I’m alright.”

“Here,” I toss her a hoodie, watching as she stares at it for a second before pulling it on.

My breath is nearly stolen from my lungs. I know it sounds sappy, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight. Red is most definitely her color.

Her eyes find my TV, zoning in on the game, and I watch as it reflects in her blue eyes. “I’ve never met a girl that likes baseball. Most of the girls at school sit at the games like they’re bored to death. Last year there was an entire Instagram page dedicated to rating our butts in our baseball pants.”

She shrugs off my comment, “I love the game, but I could’ve totally gotten on board with that page.”

My phone constantly buzzes on my nightstand as Cori watches the game, “Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“Uh,” I lean over her on my bed, grabbing it off the nightstand. “It’s just Avery.”

She sits up straighter, “I should go. I forgot you have a girlfriend, and this wouldn’t look too good if someone found out.”

I blow it off, “I’m allowed to have friends.”