***
My feet were heavy as I followed Bridget down the stairway. Each time she turned down another flight I'd see her face, but she never looked at me; she just kept silent. I started to think that she wasn't going to stop at my floor, and that she would endlessly walk down that stairwell if she could. Suddenly she began to speed up her pace, and pretty soon was dashing down the stairs on her heels.
I just stopped where I was standing. "Is she really leaving?" I thought. "Should I go after her?" But then it was quiet. I listened for a moment, and then rushed down the stairs to find her standing in front of the door. I grimaced. She was slightly out of breath, and once again I was left staring at the back of her head. Her hair wasn't waving anymore, but draped around her shoulders, motionless.
"What was that up there?" She asked.
"I think I should be the one asking that question. You were the one who glared at me and started acting crazy."
"FIRST of all, YOU think ALL girls are 'crazy!' Whenever you have problems with them, no mater what it is, you just say "AUGH UH I DUNNOH, SHE'S BEIN CRAAZY."
I was silent.
"Why did Susan ask if we were doing anything perverted? Did you tell people that you were going to make a move on me or some shit while we were up there?"
I was sort of relieved. "Of course not! Hahaah" I said, trying to lighten the mood. "I fucking hate you!"
She didn't say anything, but laughed a bit, turned around, and leaned against the door. "Well I hate you too" she said, half smiling.
I smiled back, "You okay?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, yeah I am." She looked like she had sobered up.
I put my arms out for a hug since it felt like the proper thing to do. "Not trying to make a move, promise" I said.
"Haaha oh um, no thanks" she said, "but how about a handshake?" She took a step towards me, and that's when I saw it. Through the window. Tim. Headed strait for the door. Drunk. Belligerent. Deviously snarling.
And that's how Bridget got a minor concussion.
***
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