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He pushes himself away from the wall to face me. “I thought maybe we could chat.”
I walk slowly toward him. “Did you, um, want to go practice lines down in the lounge?”
He licks his bottom lip and smiles again, still off-balance in his drunkenness. “Yeah, we can do that.” He takes another step. “It would be quieter up here though.”
I look at my door, and then back at him. “Maybe so, but I’d rather practice downstairs.”
I’ve stopped walking now, but he’s still closing the distance between us. “Nah, let’s do it up here. I like spending time with just you…” His feet carry him with an unsteady gait like he doesn’t have full control over them.
I gulp, pulling the corners of my mouth up tightly. “Well, we can get a table downstairs, and it’ll be plenty quiet.”
He blinks slowly and frowns as he walks. “You don’t like me, do you?”
I take a small step back. “Of course I like you, why wouldn’t I?
He inches closer. “Not the way you like Lamont.”
I furrow my brow. “You’re both just good friends to me.”
He shakes his head and laughs without amusement. “No…nah, it’s different with him…I can tell.” His words come out all slow and elongated. He frowns at me again. “Why don’t you like me? I’ve been nice to you, haven’t I?”
I gulp again. “Nick, maybe we should call it a night. We can run lines in the morning instead when you’re feeling more yourself?”
“I tried so hard…” he breathes sadly, taking another step.
“It’s getting too late anyway,” I add, looking down the deserted hallway.
“Can’t you at least give me a chance?” His eyes are almost lifeless, like he isn’t really there. But I see pain behind them too.
“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” I back up again. “But I think we should both go to bed, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
He’s easily a foot taller than me, and his height makes me unsteady on my own feet. He takes another step and before I have a chance to react, he reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Yes, I think we should go to bed...”
I try to pull my hand away, but his grip is too tight. “Nick, you’re drunk. I think you should go to your room.”
“I just can’t stop thinking about you…” He closes his eyes and tries to pull me closer.
I tug at my hand again, but he’s so much stronger than I am. His long fingers slide tightly around my wrist.
“You’re so beautiful…and I like you a lot…please…stay with me tonight,” he pleads.
I back away as much as I can within his grip and tug again. “Please let go of my hand.”
He tugs back, pulling me even closer to him. “Can’t you see how badly I want you?” A pause and slow, drunken blinks. “I need you, Sophie.”
“Nick, stop,” I reply forcefully. “Let go.”
He does the opposite, stepping in so that his face is inches from mine. “It’s my birthday. Let me come in. Show me around.”
I can smell the beer heavy on his breath. I look up into his cold blue eyes and set my jaw with a firm, “No.”
At my response, the pleading expression on his face disappears and is replaced by something much more sinister. His eyebrows pull together and his mouth turns into a scowl. He grasps my upper arms and suddenly pushes me against the wall, causing my bag to fall to the ground.
The cool brick meets my back and I immediately push against him, growling through my clenched jaw. “Get OFF of me.”
His scowl dissolves into pain again, like he can’t decide whether to be furious or sad. But his grip on my arms doesn’t lessen. “I’m so lonely… Can’t you see, Sophie? Just one night. I know you want me too.”
I glare at him as I struggle. “I do not.”
