The early morning sun filtered through the open Svedka bottle, propped on the window sill. The darkness of the night still overpowered the beginnings of dawn. Next to the glass bottle sat the white window fan, struggling against the sweltering summer heat. Red solo cups were scattered across the floor along with the clothes of a boy and a girl. The girl’s beige cardigan lay crumpled on the sticky floor. The boy, sitting upright in bed, fixed his gaze on the girl, still half asleep.
"Where are my glasses?" asked the girl as she searched the room. Still groggy, she instinctively crossed her arms over her bare chest. Despite the heat, she reached and pulled up his navy blue covers.
“Um, not sure. I think they fell off, but we can check later. It’s no big deal.” The shirtless boy fanned himself with his hand.
“Yeah, no big deal…” the girl echoed. Everything was still a blur– with or without the glasses.
“Did you do it?” the girl asked.
“Yes. We did it. And, you really liked it,” the boy said, a smile plastered on his face.
“I did?”
"I mean, you were so into it. You should've heard yourself," he laughed.
“Yeah, I was so into it,” she echoed, trying to laugh.
“I knew you had a crush on me for years.”
“I had liked you.”
“And, you liked all of this.”
“Did you like me? … Do you like me?”
“Yeah, we can keep things cool. You can be cool.”
“You wanted this?”
“We wanted this. I mean it’s nothing much really.”
“It’s nothing much.”
“I took care of everything. I made sure to take care of you.”
“You took care of me. You did. Thanks.”
“Well, this is what you wanted.”
The girl remained silent as she surveyed the scattered contents of the room, zooming in on a wrapper on the floor.
“Did you at least…?”
“It’s obviously better without. Don’t worry about it.”
The girl’s eyes widened. She pursed her lips slightly before stretching them into a tight smile. Words couldn’t seem to escape the smile she stitched. She glanced at him but forced her gaze to the bright red of the solo cups.
“Yeah ok. I guess you’d know.”
The boy laughed, a bit of a smirk on his face.
Still fanning himself, the boy attempted to peel the blanket off the girl, but she clung to it as if engaged in a game of tug-of-war.
“God, it’s so hot. Why do you even have this blanket?” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Aren’t you so hot?”
“No, it’s cold. I’m just cold.” That was a lie.
The boy glanced outside, then at the door.
“You should get going.”
“I should get going.”
“You should.”
“I just want to go… I should go…” she murmured more to herself than him.
She reflexively reached to push her glasses into place but, still unable to see clearly, she struggled to make out the door or the events of the past hours. The girl picked up her cardigan, trying to ignore the sticky residue from the concoction of soda and alcohol. Despite the overbearing humidity, she wrapped the cardigan around her body as tightly as possible, as if her body were searching for a more comforting warmth.
The boy stopped her as she turned the door handle. Her heart inflated.
“Before you go—this can just be our thing. You know?” Her heart deflated.
“Yeah, of course. Our thing. Will I see you again?”
Glancing towards the windowsill and the Svedka bottle, she wondered how the sunrise had already pushed the night into the past.
“Sure, we can do it again. Whenever.”
“I guess. Whatever you want.”
But she knew what she wanted.