Sara and Demi

A Hot Afternoon

Sara and Demi’s dorm within the sorority house was still, as they would describe it, a work in progress. It was larger than most of the others, complete with a small kitchen and living area. It still only contained one bedroom with two beds, one of which the lovers reserved for clothes storage and occasionally specialized recreation. Shortly after moving in, Sara had decorated the furnished couch and beds with pretty pillows and old, sentimental blankets from home. Demi hung up posters of popular musicals and a framed assortment of Playbills from her personal collection. A white blanket with red hearts, as a gift from Sara’s mother, had already been draped over the loveseat when they arrived. Decorating further would be put on hold after classes started for the year. After which, the dorm adjourned a cozy, lived-in charm.

An afternoon in mid-August came dreadfully warmer than most. Sara had opened all the windows, heat baking down on the sils in shimmering waves. Her hair, more strawberry than blonde in direct sunlight, was tied back in a loose ponytail. A plain white tank top clung to her body with sweat. Sara wiped her forehead with the arm not holding a sponge over a sink of dirty dishes. The tepid water felt almost cool against her skin. Bubbles popped in clusters on her hand and would, every so often, float up in front of her face, which Sara would blow playfully and watch them explode outward. Her attention was half on the chore and half on the television mounted on an adjacent wall overlooking the living room. Sara knew that teenage dramas, starring actors that were obviously approaching their thirties, were as garbage as they were addicting; the fast food of televised entertainment, but she enjoyed them shamelessly.

As Sara finished laying out the last of the dishes on a drying rack, the sound of the front door opening caught her attention over the cheesey droning of Something, Something, CW Love Triangle. Sara dried her hands off on a dish rag and peeked around the corner. Panting and red faced, her girlfriend Demi shot her an exhausted smile.

“You were right,” Demi managed through deep breaths. “That was a dumb idea.”

“Told you,” Sara replied. She ducked around back into the kitchen. Sara retrieved a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed it to Demi. “Couldn’t have waited until later to go running, when it's not so hot out?”

“I have to study later,” Demi said between long gulps of water. She sighed. “Thank you.” Demi pulled off a headband holding in a pair of wireless earbuds, which she collected in her hand one at a time. Her hair too was bobbed in a ponytail much longer and darker than Sara’s. Demi’s hair color contrasted her pale skin tone, smooth and healthy and red around the cheeks. Sara smiled at her. Even in such a disheveled state, Demi’s beauty was radiant. Sara had seen her in this condition many times under different circumstances and would even find such times when Demi would be especially attractive. “What?” Demi smirked, catching Sara staring at her for a moment too long.

“Nothing,” Sara said. Her eyes fell down Demi’s body. A t-shirt clung tightly to her chest, ample for her stature, by sweat that trickled down her neck. Demi wore basic black gym shorts that highlighted well the curves around her hips. She balanced against the wall with her water bearing hand as she lifted one leg to unlace a navy blue jogging shoe. Sara fell unaware again of how much she was watching. Demi slipped off the shoe to reveal a socked foot, petite and covered thinly. Her sock was pink, ended around the slender shape of her ankle, and was as damp as the rest of her clothes. Sara’s eyes lingered. Naturally, Demi followed by untying and removing the other shoe, briefly losing her balance and needing to lean on Sara for support. This seemed to snap Sara out of her trance.

“Whoa, thanks,” Demi said. She rose up on her toes to give Sara an unexpected peck on the lips. Sara held Demi close and made the kiss last. Demi giggled. “Mmm, someone’s in a mood.”