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“I’m not dressed.”
I look her over. “You look fine to me.” I shrug. She’s not naked. She has tiny little shorts and a tank top on. No bra. Bare feet though. Ah man, maybe those are her pyjamas. “I’ll carry you to class. So that your feet don’t get sore.”
“I don’t have my things.” She scowls at me while running her fingers through her hair. The action causes her top to rise up and gives me a flash of her smooth, toned stomach. Her breasts bounce when she drops her arms and I almost forget what she was just saying.
“You can share mine.” I grin at her, pulling a pencil and a pen from the back pocket of my jeans.
“And what will we write on?” She raises a brow at me and gives me a once over which makes me want to preen. “You don’t seem to have much room on your skin for notes.”
“I usually just pinch some paper off whoever’s next to me. We’ll do that. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“I highly doubt that.”
I chuckle and hold out my arms but she looks at me like I’m crazy. “I can walk.”
“Atta girl,” I praise her. “Let’s get going. Don’t want to be late.”
She takes a shaky step forward but pauses with her hand on the door that will lead us outside.
“What’s wrong?”
“I…I don’t want to go out there.”
“Hey, what’s the worst that can happen?” I tease lightly, though her behaviour is starting to weird me out a little. Okay, a lot. Her breathing becomes laboured and I bend down a little to really look at her. Goosebumps have erupted all over her skin and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
“Y-yes.”
“You don’t seem okay. How can I help?”
“I–I have agoraphobia. I’ve not been outside in a while.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say but you love the outdoors, you live for surfing! but I manage to rein myself in. Shit. Now what do I do? I wish Reef were here, he’d know what to say.
“Do you want to go to class?”
She nods. “I don’t love feeling like a prisoner in my own room.”
“Okay, let’s set you free then. Let me take you to class. I’ll carry you and I’ll run so fast we’ll be there before you even know you’ve been outside.” She still looks unsure, so I pull off my hoodie and hand it out to her. “Here, if you’re worried about your clothes or whatever you can wear this. And if you feel scared or worried about being out of your room or whatever, maybe this can give you some comfort or something.” I shrug because I’m really shit at this sort of thing, but I see something soften in her eyes and some of the tension leaves her body as she reaches out and takes it from me.
Malia pulls it on and it falls below her knees. She has to struggle to push the sleeves back so that her hands are free. The hood is up and covers most of her face, but she looks seriously cute.
A rush of something protective washes over me as I stare down at her, dwarfed in my clothing. I like her in my shit, kinda like a teeny tiny pocket girlfriend. A little dot.
“Ready?” I check.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “I guess.”
“C’mere then.” I hold my arms open wide and she steps into my embrace. I can’t help but hug her for a split second before lifting her into my arms. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face into my shoulder, and I don’t hate it at all. Pushing open the door to her dorm building, I check the coast is clear and then take off at an easy run. Malia weighs next to nothing so it’s no hardship on my part. It’s a short trip across campus to get to the main building, and then another couple of minutes to get to the lecture hall itself. Amazingly, we’re still on time.
“Here,” I tell her as I put her on her feet gently right outside the room. “Do you want to grab your usual seat or would you prefer one in the back or—”
“Near the door please,” she whispers as her eyes flick from place to place, never settling on anything for more than a moment. She’s close enough that I can feel her tremors. It makes me want to scoop her into my arms again and just get the hell out of here.
Instead, I sling my arm around her neck, tuck her in close and lead the way. Inside I select two seats closest to the door, pass Malia my pen and pencil, and then turn around to score some paper off whoever’s behind us with a winning smile. I slide it over to Malia, who’s still sitting with her hood up, tapping the pen against the desk in a nervous jitter.
