by COE 3. 1. 0
Felicity’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? I’m not the one getting banged in a toilet, which is frankly disgusting, if you ask me.”
“As if that will ever happen to you.”
“And I’m not the one banging somebody else’s girlfriend. If anyone has issues here, it isn’t me.”
“I don’t have any issues.”
“Oh, I think you do, Greene. I think you have issues when you lost out to me every year for the past three consecutive years. I think your ego is dented.”
“I don’t have to try as hard as you do, Marks,” he said mildly. “I don’t have to spend all my time burying my nose in books because I don’t have to.”
“Says the one who came in second best.”
“Oh, really? We’ll see who aces the year when it’s through.”
“You’re on.”
“It’s a bet then. What will you be giving to me when I come in top at the end of the semester?” Oliver flashed his trademark heavenly smile.
“You better think of what you’re going give me.”
“I will, and it sure ain’t the fuck that you’ve been craving from me. A thousand dollars.” Oliver wiped his hands on a paper towel. “You game for it, Marks?”
A thousand dollars? She didn’t have a thousand dollars. Still –
“You’re on,” she said with more bravado than she felt.
I will win this.
“Great,” he said. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to go back to. Unlike some people we know.”
She refused to retort to that, and so she could only glower as he walked out of the door. After a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed her bag and left too.
She caught up with him at the elevators. The elevator doors were just opening when she ran up. He glanced at her and then entered. At first, she debated whether or not to wait for the next cab. But then she decided that she was not going to let her dislike for him dictate her life.
So she entered the elevator with him. He pressed the lowermost button.
“Miss me already?” he said.
“You wish.”
“How many tables do you have to wipe to tote that thousand dollars up, do you think, Marks?”
“Not at all of us are born rich and conceited, unfortunately.”
“You think I’m rich?”
“Yeah. The way you flaunt it, anyone would think you’re rich.”
They had four floors to go because the chemistry library was on the top floor. Just then, the elevator shuddered and stopped abruptly. Felicity almost lost her balance. She grabbed the wall.
“Woah,” Oliver said. He was juddered off his feet too.
She looked up at the display. They were stopped at the third floor. Or maybe it was somewhere between the third and fourth.
Now great. She was stuck in an elevator with Oliver Greene.
3
“Great,” Oliver said. He was apparently just as pissed off to be stuck with her.
He pressed the ‘DOOR OPEN’ button several times, but nothing happened.
Well, it sucks for me too, Oliver.
“Just press the ‘HELP’ button,” she said. “You know how to do that, right? It’s the red one on the bottom left.”
Oliver gave her a look and pressed the red ‘CALL’ button.
“Hello?” he said.
Static ensued from the other side.
“Uh, hello, we’re stuck here in the elevator. Need some help, please, especially since I’m trapped with a psycho fat chick.”
“What? Oh!” She felt throttling him, but he wasn’t worth the effort.
They both listened. There was nothing.
Oliver glanced at his wristwatch. “You’d think they’d still be working shifts about now. It’s only ten thirty.”
“Maybe he’s the only guy there in Maintenance and he went off to the little boy’s room. There are some people who actually use the gents’, you know.”
“Haha. It’s getting old, Marks.”
“Not for me.”
They waited a bit, and then Oliver pressed the button again.
“Hello?”
Static crackled again.
“Wait for a bit,” suggested Felicity.
“I’m not going to wait here all night.”
“So pry open the door, macho man.”
“Thank you for calling me that. I will.”
He planted himself in front of both sliding doors – which were firmly shut – and placed both his hands on either one of them. He tried to prize them open. She could imagine his back muscles flexing under his tight shirt.
Try as he might, he couldn’t open the doors.
“Urrrrrr,” he grunted. “Damn thing’s jammed.”
“I’ll help,” she offered.
“What? And break your lily nails?”
“For your information, I don’t have long nails.” She planted herself beside him.
“You could have fooled me. I always thought you had claws.”
“And I always thought you had a dick for a brain.”
“You won’t be thinking that at the end of the semester. Now at the count of three, pull.”
They both placed all their combined strength – as much as could be transmitted through four palms – on the doors. Oliver said, “One . . . two . . . three . . . ”
Felicity pulled with all the strength that she had in her body, as did Oliver.
But no dice.
“Try again,” she urged him.
They did. Again and again. Then it was back to the ‘HELP’ button. But they were well and truly stuck.
“You think that thing’s working?” She moved to the ‘HELP’ button and pressed it again.
“What? You think if you pressed it instead of me, someone would answer?”
“It might. I have a delicate touch.”
Static crackled over the intercom.
“This thing’s broken,” she said in disgust.
“So much for your delicate touch.”
Just then, the lights went off. Felicity had to suppress herself from screaming. She hated the dark. She always had.
“Oliver?” Her voice was entirely too shaky for her to trust her instincts.
“I’m here.” He didn’t sound too good either.
“What’s happening?”
“Blackout. Maybe that’s why no one is at the HELP desk.”
The emergency lights came on – two panels on the top of the elevator – and they were bathed in light again, albeit dimmer than it had been. Felicity found that she was once again gripping the walls.
Don’t be a baby.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said.
“Alright, alright. Don’t panic. I’m sure it will blow over in a couple of hours.”
“A couple of hours?” The thought of being stuck for a couple of hours in an elevator with Oliver Greene was about as appealing as eating a pie full of thumbtacks.
“Of course not. I’m going to call someone.”
He had a cellphone. Of course. She almost wiped her brow in relief. Some people actually do have money for prepaid.
Oliver reached in his jeans pocket. He frowned, and then he sank his hand into the other one.
“What?” she said.
“It’s not here.”
“Your cellphone’s not with you?”
“I must have dropped it.”
“Yeah, when you were fucking Barbie in the women’s toilet. Nice going, Greene.”
He actually looked sheepish for once.
“Why don’t you use your cellphone?” he said defensively.
“I don’t have one.”
“What kind of college student doesn’t have a cellphone these days?”
“The ones on scholarship,” she said. “Not all of us are privileged to have a Verizon account, you know.”
He sighed. They were at an impasse.
Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“I’d ne
ver have thought in this day and age that anyone would actually be stuck anywhere without a cellphone. But – ” He shrugged. “Since we can’t get out of here and no one is at the Maintenance desk, we might as well conserve energy.”
“Yeah, like how?”
“Like not talking too much.”
What he said made perfect sense. Still, she was mutinous because he had said it before she did.
He slid down to the floor and sat with his back against the wall.
“God, I need a nap,” he muttered.
So nap. Maybe that will stop you from talking.
“I’m hungry,” she confessed. “I haven’t had anything to eat since noon.”
“Oh really?” he drawled. “I would have pegged you for – ”
“Say it and I’ll sit on your head.”
“Now that’s a prospect I wouldn’t relish even if you paid me a thousand dollars right away,” he said.
He stuck his hand in his jeans pocket and withdrew a Snickers bar.
“Hungry?” he said.
Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. She scooted over to take it from him, but he snatched it out of her reach.
“Play nice,” he said.
“Only if you will.”
“Fine. Truce for the night?”
“OK. Truce.”
He gave her the Snickers bar and she took it. Her hand brushed unintentionally against his. His flesh was very warm, she noted.
“Thank you,” she said, unwrapping it and biting into it eagerly. God, she was hungrier than she thought.
“You’re welcome.”
He watched her devour it to the last crumb, and then he lay down on the floor and closed his eyes.
“I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when someone comes along, OK?” he said.
“All that sex must have tired you out.”
“Oh, I assure you I could go on all night.”
“Macho you.”
He shut his long lashed eyes and promptly went to sleep.
She wished she could do that. But here she was, all tense up and still hungry. So she found herself studying him. Studying his face – the way his dark lashes curled over his cheeks. His cheekbones. It was criminal for a man to have such nice cheekbones. His strong jaw, riddled with evening stubble. His full, sensuous lips. The way his shoulders nicely filled out his shirt.
It wasn’t fair. Oliver Greene had everything. Looks, money, brains, popularity. Life just wasn’t fair.
It was just the opposite for her. She didn’t have the looks, money or popularity. The only thing she had going for her was brains. And he even wanted to trump her on that.
Her mind went around and around in circles, always going back to Oliver Greene and how damned frustrated he made her feel. Until she too found herself drifting into a timeless sleep filled with handsome, smug college frat boys who had buckets full of Snicker bars and intercoms that wouldn’t work.
And –
*
The yowl woke Felicity up with a start.
She blinked into the half-brightness. She had been having a dream. She was on a deserted island with Oliver Greene and he was almost naked, clad only in a Y-front. They were on the beach. For some reason, she was wearing a very skimpy bikini and her curves were extremely exposed. Oliver was eyeing her body greedily and he said:
“You look good enough to eat.”
“I do?” she marveled.
She looked down, and her body was covered in Snickers bars.
She woke up and stared at Oliver Greene, sleeping on the other side of the elevator. How long have they been here?
The yowl came again. Only it wasn’t a yowl, like a cat’s. It was a growl. An animal’s growl, coming out of a throat which did not sound like an animal’s throat.
It did not sound human either. And it was right outside their elevator door.
“Oliver!” she whispered. “Oliver, wake up!”
He awoke with a start. “Huh?”
“Sssssh.” She put her finger to her lips and pointed at the doors.
He was immediately on the alert, to his credit. He got onto a crouching position. He was closer to the doors, and they could both hear the guttural growl come again – of an animal. And something was scratching at the doors from outside.
She couldn’t hear any breathing. Was there any breathing? Suddenly, she was scared. What the hell was happening? Was there a wild beast on the prowl outside?
“Don’t move,” Oliver mouthed.
She didn’t. She wouldn’t. In fact, she felt like creeping closer to Oliver and sheltering herself in his warmth.
No, no, no, of course she didn’t! She hated Oliver Greene!
Their ears were pricked. The clawing continued, as did the growls. And then they heard footsteps shuffling away.
Footsteps!
Actual shoes on floor. Shuffling. Shuffling. Shuffling.
After an eternity, she whispered, “What was that?”
“Beats me.”
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
“On the contrary, we may be safer in here.”
He was right, as much as she hated to admit it.
“What is it, do you think?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It sounds like a crazy guy of some sort.”
“Crazy guy? So you think it’s a guy?”
“Yeah. Human.”
“But not human.”
Oliver shook his head. “Something happened. Maybe he escaped from a lunatic asylum and he’s hunting people. It has happened.”
“Or maybe he’s some Columbine type guy.”
“Maybe.”
They sank down to the floor of the elevator, feeling out of their depth.
“So what do we do now?” she said.
“We wait.”
4
They waited. They waited for a long time. They slept some, and then they woke up again.
“It’s six a.m.,” she said.
“I know.”
“I have to pee real bad.”
“Me too,” he confessed.
It was amazing that they were finally having a decent conversation. And under such circumstances.
“I’m sure it will tide over,” she said.
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
They tried the intercom again, but no luck.
“What time do classes start?” he said.
“I don’t know. About eight thirty? They should be filing into the library by now.”
“How come the janitor’s not here yet?” He cocked his head. “Nobody’s vacuuming or cleaning up out there.”
“It’s only six.”
They waited again until six thirty.
Then he said again, “Don’t you think that’s odd? There’s no one out there summoning the elevator. There are no footsteps.”
“It’s still early.”
“Nah. There are usually people around at this hour. The janitor starts his rounds at six.” He got up to his feet.
“How do you know?” Felicity was not an early person. She preferred to work late nights.
“Because I get up at five to go jogging around the lake. Then I come to the library to study.”
He did? Then again, of course he did. He didn’t get grades like that if he just lazed around on his (un-fat) ass all day.
He tried the doors again. He looked up at the ceiling.
“You know,” he said, “There’s an emergency hatch up there. This is an old elevator in an old building. If you’ll give me a leg up, I’ll shimmy up there and see if the doors on the floor above can open.”
“That’s dangerous,” she said. “What if the elevator starts moving?”
He gazed deadpan at her. “Do you want to be stuck here with me when you wet your pants?”
Uh, no, since he put it that way.
“You’re heavy.” She eyed him dubiously.
“I just have to stand on your shoulders. Just crouch like this.” He showed her how to place someone’s feet on
his own shoulders. “That’s the best way to distribute weight.”
“Take off your shoes,” she demanded.
“I’ll need my shoes when I get up there.”
“I’ll pass you your shoes when you get up there.”
He sighed. “OK, fussy pants.”
Still, she was nervous when she crouched like he had instructed. Fancy that. Oliver Greene – his stockinged feet now gingerly stepping onto her shoulders. I’ll bet he would never ask Barbie to do this. He only asks me because he thinks I can take his weight.
“You OK?” Oliver said as he balanced himself on her shoulders and the roof.
“You weigh more than I do.” She gritted her teeth.
“Believe me, it’s all hard muscle, and I mean hard.”
Standing on her, he detached the hatch from the roof with a flip and removed it with a clang. A square hole was revealed as well as the pulleys which held the elevator. He hung from his hands for a moment before vaulting himself through the hole. When the pressure of his soles eased upon her shoulders, she allowed herself to crane her neck upwards.
How easily he does that.
He wriggled the rest of his body up and disappeared from her view.
“You OK?” she said nervously. She had a good reason to be nervous. What if someone started the lift again by pressing a button? What if it really was a mechanical fault and the lift would start moving again once someone lifted the emergency hatch?
She hated not knowing.
But he finally called: “This door’s not jammed. I’m managed to get it to open a crack.”
Her spirits lifted. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
She heard sounds of something metallic being forced apart.
Then: “I’m going to need my shoes.” His face appeared again in the hole in the roof, grinning. She held his shoes, and for a moment, she was afraid that once she handed them to him, he would grab them and leave her behind.
“No,” she said. “You pull me up first.”
“Oh, come on, Marks.”
“No deal otherwise,” she insisted.
He gave her a strange quizzical look. “You think I’m going to do a runner on you and leave you behind?”
“You might. I’m not exactly your favorite person.”
“Give me some credit, Marks. You are only, like, my second least favorite person.”