Across the Bridge

Across the Bridge - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

IM DRUNK. His text came in that evening, pretty late.

I was home, tucked away in my bedroom, reading. Lex was out at a movie with Lydia - he had texted me to invite me after work, but I'd declined. Once again, I was not interested in being their third wheel. I was sure he was only inviting me to be nice.

ARE YOU AT HOME? I texted Winston back.

NOOO. IM AT THIS EVENT IN THE UPPER EAST SIDE. I WISH YOU WERE HERE, he answered.

IM IN BED, I told him.

OH I WISH I WAS WITH YOU, THEN.

I didn't know what to send back, so I waited.

I HATE THESE EVENTS. SO MUCH BULLSHIT. GOD, EVERYONE IS SO FAKE, he sent.

Still, I didn't know how to respond.

PENELOPE, IF I COULD GET THERE, WOULD YOU COME OUTSIDE AND SEE ME?

I had no idea if he was serious. Would he actually come all the way down to Williamsburg from a party in the Upper East Side?

IM IN BED, DOING SOME READING FOR SCHOOL, I told him.

WHAT IF I COME TO YOUR WINDOW? WOULD YOU LET ME IN? he asked.

I WOULD OPEN THE WINDOW, I sent back.

OKAY. IM GOING TO SEE IF I CAN GET SOMEONE TO DRIVE ME.

He was serious. And drunk. He didn't text again, and an hour passed, so I assumed he had forgotten about it altogether, or hadn't been able to talk anyone into driving him to Brooklyn.

It was late, after 11P.M., when I heard a tapping on my window. I was just staring aimlessly at my phone and thought maybe I was hearing things. Imagining that noise. But when I looked over, I could just barely make out a face, so close to the window.

I slid off my bed and crossed the room, without really thinking. Then I pushed open the window.

"Oh, hey," Winston said, his voice sounding rough and his words slurred. His eyes looked heavy.

"How did you even know it was my room?" I asked him, confused.

A smile crept onto his lips. "It was... just a guess."

"Good thing you weren't tapping on my mom's window."

His eyes went wide. "Didn't think of that."

I let out a laugh and then covered my mouth. "How'd you get here?"

He glanced back at the road for a second. "My brother owed me a favour... but I think he left."

My heart rate sped up. "He left?"

"I asked him to wait. Shit."

It was late and it was cold outside. He was in a fancy three piece suit but I was shivering now, in just a t-shirt at the open window.

Winston sighed. "Sorry. I'm drunk and this was a stupid idea."

I shook my head, not really wanting to hesitate. "Come in."

"In?" He was surprised.

"Well, you can't walk home." I realized after a moment that he had money. He could have called a cab or an Uber. But he just stared at me, trying to figure out what I meant.

"Penelope, I just wanted to see you. I thought my brother would wait-"

I reached out and pulled on his arm. "Come in," I said again.

He climbed in and fell onto the floor, so I shut the window. When he got to his feet, he looked around my bedroom. It was small and there was nothing fancy about it. The old wooden bed frame and mattress, a small dresser and a hamper in the corner. I had a night stand and a lamp, but the rest of the room was bare. The walls were beige, boring.

"So..." I began, sitting on my bed again.

He just stood there, sort of in shock. He didn't even take a step towards me. His phone dinged, so he reached for it.

"My brother," he spoke, his voice quiet. "He says good luck getting home."

"Are you two... close?" I asked, then added a laugh.

"We were, growing up." He took a step forward, finally. "But he sort of chose mom and I chose dad."

"Oh."

"He lives in the basement apartment with me, but his girlfriend lives in Lennox Hill in this fancy building with a door man. She comes from money, too. He and I are just... different."

I nodded, suddenly realizing that I was in pajamas and he was very dressed up. I tucked some hair behind my ear and grabbed blanket to cover my lap.

"I can't believe I did this. Coming here... I said to myself don't rush this... don't fuck this up." He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a second.

"What?" I asked him, smiling.

"This. Us." He sighed. "But I came here, because you said you'd open the window. It made me want to come see you."

"I thought you were kidding," I admitted. "I mean, I didn't think you'd come all the way from..."

He shrugged. "But you let me in."

"Yeah."

"God, you are so..." He stopped, then bit his bottom lip.

I looked away, because damn, he looked good. I knew he was drunk. I knew he might say something he wouldn't usually say. But I still wanted him to say it.

"What?" I asked again, teasing him.

"You're so hot. And I keep thinking about you, and kissing you in my car, and touching your hair..." He let his voice trail off. "I'm drunk. I should try to get home, before your mom hears me."

"I told you. She doesn't care," I said, without thinking.

"That a strange, drunk boy is in her daughter's room?" he asked, then laughed.

"You're not that strange," I smiled.

He smirked at me, stepped forward. I looked at the space beside me, on my bed, and he took that as an invitation. Sitting down beside me, he sighed once again.

"Stay," I said, in a whisper voice.

"Mmm." He made a noise, but I wasn't sure what it meant.

"If you want to," I added.

His eyes met mine. "I've never wanted anything more."