On Rotation by Shirlene Obuobi

Author:Shirlene Obuobi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

I pulled up in front of Ricky’s apartment at 9:15 p.m., a full forty-five minutes before what Michelle would have deemed “booty-call o’clock.” It was dark out, the side street where he lived dimly lit by sodium streetlights. I managed to snag a spot right in front of his apartment, and parallel parked with the smoothness of a true, deep-dish-slinging, “no ketchup on my hot dog”* Chicagoan. And now I sat in my car, still gripping my gear shift, trying to figure out what the hell I had just done.

Thankfully, after I invited myself over to his place, Ricky didn’t make things weird. If anything, he’d been gracious. He responded with a prompt Sure, texted me his address, and gave me tips about where to find parking around his apartment. I threw on the first clean outfit I could find—a plain black tee and a pair of denim shorts—grabbed my keys, logged Ricky’s address into Google Maps, and fled my apartment. I moved with a single-mindedness I hadn’t experienced in a long time, for once not thinking about what I should have been doing, whether that was studying or filling out our IRB application or prepping for the wards. All I had was a destination, and a mission to loosen up the knot in my chest. And with every mile I inched closer to Ricky, I felt like my rudimentary plan was working.

Except I had never been to Ricky’s place, and now I was showing up under the cover of night. Over the phone, it was easy to pretend that nothing between us had changed. In person, though, I wasn’t so sure. Would meeting in person remind him that, the last time we’d seen each other, I’d kind of sort of violated him and then fled the scene of the crime?* Would he go back to how he’d been early in our friendship, when he avoided touching me at all costs?

Ricky was at his door before I could make it up the stairs.

“Here,” he said, sticking his head out and waving me toward his apartment. I power walked down the long hallway, trying to keep my hormones in check. It had been some time since I’d seen Ricky in the flesh, and there was something about how he looked now, in plaid pajama pants that hung low around his hips and a plain white tee, with his hair wet from a shower, that seemed indecent.

“Thanks for having me over,” I said, stepping cautiously inside. Ricky grinned, closing the door behind us with a click.

“Thanks for coming over. You’ve never actually been, right?” Ricky said. The pads of his fingers brushed against the small of my back as he guided me farther inside. Okay. So definitely still touching me. I wasn’t sure if that realization soothed my fears or stoked them.

Ricky gave me the grand tour. His entire apartment was open concept—the kitchen, dining room, and living room blending into one open space—and well lit. It was immaculate in a way

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