In My Bed

by Jennifer LaCross

  Me: Yep. It’s true

  ***

  Day 15

  Me: So that means I can come over?

  Nate: Yep

  Me: Yay for canceled study groups!

  Nate: Hey… her cat’s really sick. That’s not something to celebrate

  Me: I’m not celebrating her cat getting sick. I celebrating the fact that I get to spend the night with my hunky boyfriend

  Nate: Because Lyla’s cat got sick and she can’t host the study group

  Me: Why didn’t you just switch places?

  Nate: Everyone else has roommates to consider

  Me: You don’t…

  Nate: Yeah…

  Me: Then why didn’t you offer your place

  Nate: Because…

  Me: Because why?

  Nate: Because.

  Me: Is it because you wanted to spend the night with your girlfriend?

  Nate: Maybe that had a little something to do with it

  Me: I’d say it’s a big something considering I haven’t seen you for five days

  Nate: Okay. You’ve caught me. There’s definitely a big, hard reason why I didn’t offer up my place tonight.

  Me: I’m on my way

  Nate: My reason will be waiting

  ***

  Day 24

  Nate: I’m home

  Me: Come back

  Nate: I just left your dorm

  Me: Come back

  Nate: We’ll see each other soon

  Me: Come back

  Nate: How bad do you want to see me?

  Me: Come back

  Nate: Are you going to say anything else?

  Me: Come back

  Nate: I miss you too

  Me: Are you coming back?

  Nate: Jenna, you know I have to work early

  Me: I haven’t seen you in seven days and then I only got to see you for an hour.

  Nate: I know

  Me: I’m just gonna say goodnight so I can stop annoying myself with how pouty I’m being over a guy

  Nate: He’s a pretty great guy though, huh?

  Me: The greatest

  Nate: Give me twenty minutes…

  Me: Just say goodnight now

  Nate: No

  Me: Why not?

  Nate: Because I’m going to come say it in person. Let me just grab a change of clothes for tomorrow and I’ll be back

  Me: Really?

  Nate: Yep

  Me: :)

  ***

  I’ve spent most of my free time with Nate, leaving me with little time to see Rachel or Jimmy. I’ve only seen them a few times over the last few weeks, and each time I’ve avoided the conversation about my sex life, claiming the prep for my audition keeps me too busy to think about anything else. And that’s true for most nights of the week—I just choose to keep my activities from the other nights private.

  Every time I see Nate, he asks if I’ve told my friends yet and I can tell he’s disappointed when I answer in the negative. He hasn’t been pressuring me, but I plan to open up to them this weekend about what happened with Simon and my new relationship with Nate. I just want to get through my audition first.

  ***

  “Hey, you,” Nate answers the phone with a smile in his voice.

  “Hey,” I sigh.

  “You sound exhausted,” he observes.

  “It’s because I am exhausted. Auditions are tomorrow and Ben and have been working on our routine non-stop for hours. My body aches and I can barely walk,” I tell him as my muscles scream at me as I take the stairs to the first floor.

  “Are you still coming over?”

  “Will you hate me if I say no?”

  He chuckles. “Absolutely not.”

  “Are you sure? It’s been a few days since I’ve seen you, and I actually kind of miss your face, among other things.” I know I’m throwing out a little sexual innuendo, but the truth is I just missing being with him. Eating dinner together, him holding me on the couch, the times I get to wake up in his arms.

  “I miss you too.”

  The softness in his voice makes my heart melt. His tone isn’t seductive, it’s sweet and sincere and I know that he’s missing the same things I am. It makes me want to jump in my car and drive to his place. Forget sleep, I just want to be with Nate.

  “Maybe I’m not that tired,” I say with a yawn, contradicting myself.

  “One more day and then we’ll see each other all the time,” he reminds me.

  “Is that a promise?” I ask, a little insecure. I’m so used to my relationships revolving around the physical side of things that our lack of physical intimacy over the last few weeks has made me feel more vulnerable.

  “It is. And it’s a promise I intend to keep.” I can hear the truth in his words and it brings a smile to my face.

  “Good.”

  “And when we see each other tomorrow night, we can celebrate both of our achievements,” he tells me, and it takes me a second to register what he’s saying.

  “Does this mean you passed you test?” I exclaim. I know he was worried that he wouldn’t, but he spent so much time studying I think he could write the test.

  “I did.”

  I congratulate him before I remind him of one flaw in his plan. “I like your plan, but I haven’t even had my audition. We don’t know that I’m getting the spot yet.”

  “Didn’t we go over this already?” he sighs, feigning annoyance. “You’ll get the spot.”

  “Your confidence in me is humbling,” I tell him, my smile unable to be contained. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So now that I’ve canceled on you, what are your plans for the evening?”

  “Toby called. Jake showed up at his place and they’re gonna head to Charlie’s,” he explains. “I told him I was busy, but I’ll call him back.”

  “Well, have fun. I’ll be spending the night trying to recuperate before my audition tomorrow afternoon,” I huff, the frustration of spending the night alone making me a little irritable.

  “Won’t all the hard work be worth it once you’re on stage performing again?”

  “It will,” I admit. “And what we’ve put together is amazing.”

  The theme of the showcase is renewal, and when I told Ben about my idea to dance out a story of heartbreak and healing, he was completely on board. I didn’t admit that it was my personal story, but I think he can tell based on the emotional tone of every practice session we’ve had. We couldn’t find a song that fit perfectly, so we had some of his friends in the music department do a cover of one that we thought would work best. We’ve spent hours upon hours upon hours perfecting every detail, taping ourselves so we can watch it back and make changes. I’ve put everything I am into this, and in turn it’s become my way to heal and move on.

  “I can’t wait to see you perform it at the showcase.”

  “Thanks,” I reply softly, his sweetness and encouragement meaning everything.

  “I’ll call you and wish you luck in the morning,” he assures me.

  “Have fun with your friends. And it’s not good luck. It’s break a leg.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll call and tell you to break a leg.”

  “Now you just sound menacing,” I joke.

  “Talk to you later, Jenna.” He laughs.

  “Bye.”

  I hang up the phone as I open the door to my dorm, heading over to the elevators in lieu of the stairs. I get to my room and take some ibuprofen before grabbing my shower caddy and a change of clothes. I walk to the bathrooms and take my time washing all the sweat off my body, rubbing my fingers into my sore muscles and trying to ease the pain. The steam envelops me, the warm spray beating on my shoulders and helping me relax.

  I get back to my room, groaning as I collapse back on my bed. I pick up my phone and scroll through my messages, wondering why I haven’t gotten one from Rachel to let me know she left to drive home.

  I dial her number and it rings five times befor
e she picks up, sounding out of breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Rach. What’s up?”

  “Oh, hey, Jen,” she replies, her tone a little flat.

  “Did you make it home okay?”

  “Uh … yeah, I did.”

  She seems distracted and I wonder if everything’s okay with her family. I know that she was going home this weekend because it’s her late mother’s birthday and I’m worried that something’s wrong. “How is everyone?”

  She clears her throat. “Good. They’re good.”

  “Tell them I said hello and that I’m thinking about all of them this weekend.”

  She clears her throat again, her voice sounding a bit wobbly and sad as she says, “Yeah, I will.”

  I furrow my brows, sitting up on my bed as if that will help me hear her better. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she insists. “This is just a rough weekend for me.”

  This is the type of situation where I would normally ask her if she wants to talk about it and then, if she doesn’t, I’d demand that she talk about it. But ever since I realized how one-sided our friendship is, I’ve stopped pushing her so hard on things like this. It feels a little hypocritical to demand her to open up when I’ve been closed off our entire friendship. But in the end, regardless of whether or not I feel guilty about the way I have—or haven’t—participated in our friendship, I can tell something’s wrong.

  I decide to press a little, just not as hard as I normally would. “Are you sure everything’s fine? You sound off.”

  She clears her throat. “Yeah. It’s just been a long day … I’m okay, Jenna,” she asserts, her tone more certain.

  “Okay. But I’m here if you need to talk about anything.”

  “Thanks. But now it’s your turn. How are you?”

  I laugh humorlessly. “I feel like my body’s falling apart after the hell I put it through today,” I grumble.

  She laughs softly. “Your audition’s tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes,” I sigh. “And I’m so glad because I can’t wait for all this work to feel like it means something.”

  “Well, even though it’s a lot of work, you’ve seemed really happy the few times I’ve seen you over the past month.”

  “I am.” But that’s only part of why I sound so happy. I get the sudden urge to tell her about everything I’ve been holding back from her, but I know that the conversation about Simon and Nate has to happen in person. “Do you think we could talk more about my audition when you get back? I have some stuff I’ve wanted to tell you.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she replies, sounding distracted.

  “Cool. Give your family big hugs from me.”

  “Yeah, talk to you later,” she says before hanging up.

  I set my phone on my nightstand and curl up in bed, my exhaustion hitting me right as my phone chimes.

  Nate: You asleep yet?

  Me: Almost

  Nate: We’re down at Charlie’s Tavern. I’m DD, so I’m watching everyone else get completely shit faced. Jake’s in a pretty sour mood.

  Me: Eeek. Have fun?

  Nate: I’ll try. Goodnight :)

  Me: Night

  ***

  “I seriously can’t believe they’re auditioning with that disgusting dance,” Ben snorts as he tries to hide his laugh.

  “They think they’re making a statement,” I respond, rolling my eyes at the group from our interpretive dance class. They’ve apparently decided that their sexual interpretive dance to Drunk In Love is a great way to represent the dance department.

  “Ugh. I don’t want to watch this statement again,” he scoffs as he turns away from the stage.

  “What? I think it’s very … interpretive,” I laugh as they do the sexually explicit hand gestures.

  “I mean, maybe it is, but I just don’t get how this has anything to do with renewal.”

  “They’ve renewed the fact that they made me hate this song?”

  “I know. I used to love it, but now I can’t listen to it without seeing that,” he says, pointing at whatever it is that they’re doing on stage.

  “I’m not looking at that again,” I grimace.

  He chuckles. “We’re next, right?”

  “Yep. Nervous?” I ask him, already knowing the answer as he cracks his knuckles.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Never,” I answer with a smile, making him laugh. It’s a weak laugh, but it seems to take his mind off of his nerves for the moment.

  The group finishes their dance and leaves the stage and we’re immediately called to perform.

  My heart races with the excitement of the moment. It’s been years since I’ve auditioned for something. The adrenaline courses through me as Ben and I move into position and when the music starts, we dance my version of renewal.

  It’s strong and powerful, Ben and I dancing with everything we have—each turn, each leap, each lift executed to perfection. I feel the music in my soul as my form of therapy helps me heal and move on.

  When we walk off the stage, the smiles on our faces tell everyone backstage that the both of us are more than pleased with how the audition went.

  “I’ll be seriously surprised if we don’t get picked for the interpretive dance slot. Everyone else we’ve seen didn’t come close to us,” he admits, confidence replacing the nerves that were there before the audition. “I know that both of us were dancing on stage, but what we put together was all you. No matter what happens with the decision, know that it’s a beautiful, meaningful and extraordinary story you’re telling. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

  I nod in thanks, emotion clogging my throat before I clear it. “We did great, but don’t get too confident. There are still people who haven’t auditioned yet.” I know I’m warning him against being over-confident, but I have to admit that I think our audition was flawless.

  We both change out of our costumes and into street clothes. When Ben heads back to watch the rest of the auditions, I step outside to call Nate.

  “Hey there, Jenna.”

  “Hey there, Nate,” I greet him, sounding more than a little cheery.

  “You were amazing.”

  “How do you know? It was a closed audition.” I know there’s no way he saw me, but I want to know how he’s so certain I did well.

  “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Well, you’re right,” I beam. “We were amazing. Ben and I are more than dance partners. I swear we’re soul mates.”

  Nate laughs, not worried about my declaration because he knows that even though Ben and I are totally meant to be together on the dance floor, we’re nowhere near to romantically compatible.

  “So you find out later today right?”

  “Yeah. Ben and I are going to wait around here until they post. There are only five more groups that have to audition for interpretive dance, so we should within the next couple of hours.”

  “And after you find out that you got the spot, I look forward to congratulating you properly,” he tempts me over the phone.

  “I can’t wait.”

  ***

  I walk up to my room, wearing a smile so wide my cheeks hurt. All of the work I’ve put in these past few weeks has been worth it because I’ll be performing at the showcase in June. I knew I wanted the spot, but I didn’t realize how much until I saw my name on that list. I’ve already called my parents and texted Rachel and Jimmy, each of them letting me know how proud they are of me. But the person I’m looking forward to telling the most is Nate, and I plan on doing that in person.

  He texted me twenty minutes ago to let me know that he was leaving work and meeting me at my place. He should be here soon, so I unlock my door and rush to the bathroom to take a shower before he gets here.

  When I get back to my room, I don’t bother changing, opting to stay wrapped in my soft, fluffy robe since I’ll be getting naked with Nate in a matter of minutes. I sit down to check my phone when someone knocks
on my door.

  “It’s me,” Nate calls through the door.

  I hop off my chair and fly to the door, opening it and pulling him inside and into a heated kiss, my hands on either side of his face. His lips move with mine, but his hands don’t touch me at all. I pull back confused, and that’s when I see that he has a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a paper bag filling his hands.

  I smile as I look up at him. “What’s this?”

  “A little something to celebrate.”

  “You’re awfully confident that I got the spot,” I say, trying to hide my smile.

  “With a greeting like that, I feel like I might have a reason to be.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t kissing you like that because I was so devastated that I was seeking comfort and solace in your embrace?” I ask, raising a brow.

  “That smile you’re trying to hide is telling me that the news is good.”

  I let my grin break through as I beam up at him. “It is good. We got the spot!” I squeal.

  He chuckles and moves to the desk, freeing his hands as he sets everything on the clear surface. When he turns around, he envelopes me in a big hug, kissing me sweetly. “Congratulations,” he whispers when he sits me down.

  “Thanks. So what did you bring me?”

  “Well,” he says, lifting the champagne bottle and starting to peel the foil around the top. “I think this part is pretty obvious,” he says right before the pops the cork and pours us two glasses. He hands me a glass and clinks his glass to mine.

  “To our accomplishments,” I toast.

  “To us.” The way his voice dips makes my heart flutter.

  “To us,” I agree before we each take a sip of champagne. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Dinner and dessert.”

  “You’re feeding me?”

  “I figured we needed a little bit of nourishment before we spent the entire night congratulating each other properly.”

  “Well, then let’s get eating so we can get to that portion of the evening.”

  He laughs and sets down his champagne flute before he opens that bag and pulls out some tacos, handing me two and taking the rest for himself. Then he takes out a bag of tortillas chips and container of salsa.