HARPER

Is this elevator really slow, or is it just me? We don't make any eye contact as the ancient box carries us upward towards the third floor. I'm not sure what to do with my hands, I'm suddenly very nervous.

"Maybe we could trade later in the week if things change," Asher says, and I immediately begin to nod my head in agreement. I'm not uncomfortable around boys, but something about him has me on edge. I can't seem to relax.

"Sure. That's a good plan." My eyes stay straight ahead on the doors, my heart pounding so much quicker than the clank of the elevator.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," he adds nervously.

Finally, with a loud ding, the elevator comes to a stop. The light that indicates our floor is cracked and just beneath it, someone has already marked their initials, and a sloppy 'Was Here' with the date. It seems even if we are all technically adults, you remove the more adult-er supervision and we become school children again. I roll my eyes.

"He's an idiot," Asher states. "Puts his initials on everything. He's been doing it since second grade. Even did it at his own house."

The doors slide open, and I rush to step out like a moth escaping a house. I can finally breathe again. The feeling of awkwardness returns as I glance down at the key and small post-it that is attached with our room number. I'm already sweating. Can't they turn up the AC?

"313," he says as he looks over my shoulder. I nod.

Together we walk, me in front of him, in search of the room we will be staying in together. The carpet is worn and stained, a few empty bottles sitting in the hallway as if this place were a poster for bad decisions.

"Here it is," I say quietly. I pinch my eyes closed as the card slips into the reader and then open them to see the small green light flash. Please let there be two beds. I'm a wild sleeper, and I will be so embarrassed if I have to share any space with him while I'm not conscious.

The door opens with a swoosh and the hot wall of stale air hits us in the face. My first move is to try and find the thermostat and crank up the AC. Two beds sit pressed up against a roughly stuccoed wall. The paint is a light beige that almost looks wet. It's as if they've painted the surface so many times, it never really had time to dry. I spot the thermostat and make my move.

Ninety-eight degrees. My finger presses the worn button, and the loud hum of the fan begins to whirl. I can't resist touching the shiny wall to see if it's wet, but I find it's just slick from the sheen of the cheap paint.

"Not really what I was expecting," Asher says as he sets our bags down.

"I'm not really sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely interesting." My attention turns to the large, framed painting of an older woman above our bed. Creepy. I'm sure they intended for us to feel surrounded by the culture, but I can't help but feel like her eyes are following me around the room.

"You can choose the bed you want," he says graciously.

As I stare at the two, trying not to think about how little the comforters in hotels are actually laundered, he changes his mind.

"Actually," he says, grabbing his bag and tossing it onto the bed closest to the door, "I should sleep closest to the door in case someone breaks in.

I hadn't thought of that, but now that he mentions it, he would be better equipped to stop someone. His broad shoulders give way to large, muscular arms.

"Thanks," I answer and then swallow, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. I move my attention to my bag quickly so he doesn't see me staring.

"I don't know about you," he says as he pulls a pair of swim shorts from his bag, "but I'm jumping in that pool while I wait for the room to cool down."

Suddenly the thought of seeing him without his shirt on floods my awareness. I might even blush. I busy myself with unzipping my bag, trying to convince my brain that I can just chill in the room. But my brain quickly reminds me it's hot, and I'm sweating through all my layers. My fingers tangle on the silky strings of my bikini, and I pull it from my bag. "I'll join you." 

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