Page 1 of When We Are Old

First Sight

Matthew

The rap on the door landed once, twice. On the third knock, it slid as though the knuckles didn’t have the energy to make the third time relevant.

The knock at the door wasn’t a surprise. For the last hour, loud cackles and hyena pack laughing had filtered down the hallway from the living area. A game of truth or dare from the sounds of it.

Alcohol made girls loud.

Real loud.

By the time feet had shuffled up the hallway, retreated back to the group, the voice had questioned why she had to knock when she didn’t live here, and then the footsteps had come all the way back down to my door, I’d assumed position.

Pushing my hand through my hair, I opened the door a crack and leant against the frame.

She really didn’t live here. I’d already accounted for the four girls on the floor. My window overlooked the path to the main door, so I’d been able to watch them all unpack their belongings from their parents’ cars as they moved in. All except one of them had been dropped off by relatives.

My own arrival had been solitary and unspectacular.

Until now.

Five foot of blonde and cream stood the other side of the door. She swayed slightly as she raised her gaze from my feet to my face and I had to bend slightly from my height to look at her better.

And she was all the good things to look at.

All my preparation I’d been making to appear cool and aloof when I opened the door on one of the giggling hyenas evaporated.

Fucking shit balls. She swiped at a strand of blonde hair and blinked up at me, her lips pursed into a contemplative bud.

“Oh, you’re a boy.”

Her cheeks stained a delicious shade of strawberry against the cream of her skin. Pale blonde hair worked itself free from a ponytail that curled at the edges. Grey eyes met mine.

For a moment I fought hard to find anything to say and we stood in an awkward silence while she blushed every shade of pink in the spectrum of all colours known to man. Her lips parted, her eyes dropping to the ground. I could taste the ‘sorry to disturb you' before it formed on her tongue.

“Nope,” I called her back. “Last I checked I had a fully working penis and two rather full ball bags.”

Not exactly what I'd planned to say and I’m pretty sure if I ever got to replay the moment again, I’d make it so much cooler, calmer, and less ‘I’m a teenage lad obsessed with his knob’.

The strawberry on her cheeks mutated and crossbred with raspberries. I rooted to the spot, transfixed. Wow. That was some kind of blush.

She turned to walk away again. I should have let her go. You know, now I’d mentioned my penis at our first meeting, but instead I said. “Do you need proof?”

My brain may as well have been in my knob.

I didn’t plan to flash her, not really. But she'd looked back at me and for the rewarding reaction of her eyes flying wide open, grey and bright; and her mouth opening on a shocked gasp, well, it made the empty threat worthwhile.

“Oh no.” She waved a hand at my crotch, staring at my fingers on the buttons. “But we are having a drink though. If you want to join us?”

I let go of my fly and relaxed against the doorframe again. Her eyes were on me, but then mine were dancing the same path on her.

Officially, she came in as the smallest person I’d ever met. She seemed fragile, delicate. With a quick movement, she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Her gaze darted down the hallway—possibly hoping someone would come to rescue her if she didn’t return.

“Us?” I smiled and lifted an eyebrow.

She nodded but chewed on her bottom lip, making it bloom with red either side of her teeth. “Me, and uh...”

“With you?” My smile grew. She didn’t even live here. That much I knew.