When I got into the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled out my phone. I needed to talk to someone with experience in girl problems, but I didn’t want Alexa to hear me. I sent a text to Sam:

Things are really weird with Alexa. She’s mad at me for no reason. What should I do?

I could see him typing almost immediately.

I heard all about it. You have to work things out. All couples fight every now and again. It’s normal.

Word spreads quickly.

We’re not a couple. She hates me and there’s nothing I can say to make it better.

Do you like her? he asked.

Of course I do.

Make sure she knows it. Keep me updated.

I set my phone down on the counter next to a wadded up washcloth covered in pink, black, and tan stains. It was rare to see a cheerleader without makeup. Her eyes looked so soft and tired, and light freckles that I didn’t even know were there dotted her nose and cheeks.

I turned on the shower and got in, standing motionless as I let the cool water wash over my body. Think, I urged myself. What should I say to convince her to trust me?

I thought about a job interview that I had years ago. The interviewer asked me how I convince people that I’m trustworthy. I had never thought about it before. I told her that I don’t have to use my words, because people could look at my past actions and just know that I was trustworthy.

I then thought about my past with Alexa. For years, I had teased her and pulled stupid pranks. I didn’t do it out of malice; I guess I wanted to have a reason to interact with her. It made sense why she didn’t trust me.

I never gave her a good reason to. If I couldn’t show her that she could trust me, I would have to convince her with my words.

I toweled off and chose a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans from the closet. I had forgotten the way a hot shower and a clean change of clothes could give me a fresh outlook on life. I was ready to talk. I hoped she would be, too.

I opened the bathroom door, ready to start my speech, just to find her curled up in bed, asleep.

I chuckled. Typical Alexa. If she couldn’t win an argument, then she’d just sleep through it. I would have joined her, but I slept great and didn’t want her to panic if she woke up next to me again. I tried the door again, but it was still locked.

I sat down at my desk and did a little studying. I had a test the next day, but I already accepted the fact that I wouldn’t do very well. I had been too distracted lately to pay attention in class. I was reading about different survey research techniques when my phone buzzed.

I don’t hear any talking, Sasha’s text read.

She fell asleep while I took a shower, so I’m enjoying the quiet, I responded.

I hope you like being locked in your room, because you’re not leaving.

That’s fine. I am getting hungry, though. Send some food when you can, I responded sarcastically.

A few minutes later, I heard the door rattle. I got up, thinking I could wedge my way out, but before I got halfway across the room, a plate slid in and the door slammed shut.

“Nice try,” a muffled voice said from the other side.

There were two sandwiches and a bunch of chips on the plate. They tossed in two cans of soda, too. It was a nice gesture, or would have been if they hadn’t locked us in here against our will.

I checked to see if all of the commotion woke Alexa up. It didn’t. I held my hand in front of her face, just to make sure she was still breathing. Her breath was hot and moist on the back of my hand.

I resumed my studies, quietly snacking on the chips. If she didn’t wake up soon, there would be nothing left for her to eat. After a while, I was starting to get bored. Shaking her awake seemed like a bad idea. After all, I was hoping the nap would calm her down. I tried to make some light noise, hoping that would prompt her to wake up “on her own”.

Slamming my book shut, rustling papers, and opening my pop can didn’t work. I sighed dramatically, rolled my desk chair across the floor, and crunched on potato chips. Nothing. Finally, I coughed loudly, and she stirred.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.

I checked my phone. “About five hours,” I joked.

“Five hours?” she shouted. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I’m kidding. It’s only been about an hour. It’s eleven o’clock.” I should know better to joke around at a time like this, but I couldn’t help myself.

She frowned. “Is the door still locked?”

“Yep, but Sasha was so kind as to make us sandwiches.” I handed the plate over to her. I wasn’t about to tell her there were once chips for her too.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m just not pleased that we’re still in this room.”

“Me neither. I think Sasha’s been listening from the other side of the door. She knows you were sleeping.”

“I’m not surprised. She can be so nosy sometimes,” she said loud enough that Sasha could hear.

“So,” I said. “Should we talk this out so we can get out of here?”

“Go ahead,” she replied. “This is all your fault, so you can do your best to patch it all up.”

“My fault?” I asked. “How do you figure?”

“We already made the decision that we would be friends. Last time I checked, friends don’t sleep naked in the same bed.”

“If that’s the case, that ruins a lot of the football players’ fantasies about you and your friends,” I said under my breath.

“I’m being serious,” she said.

“You put the moves on me, though,” I added. “Let’s not forget that detail.”

“I was drunk. You said I was so drunk that you wouldn’t have sex with me. Why didn’t you just kick me out or send me home?”

“I wanted to have sex with you. I thought you would sober up and still want to be with me.”

“Obviously not,” she said, coolly.

“It was your choice to take off our clothes.”

“I was wasted. You can’t hold me accountable for my actions.”

“Why not?” I questioned. “I don’t believe that alcohol turns you into someone you’re not. It lowers your inhibitions, yes. But I don’t think it can suddenly make you do something you don’t have any interest in doing.”

“So I shouldn’t blame you for this predicament we’re in?” she asked.

“No, and in fact, I blame you,” I said. “I didn’t make you do anything, Alexa. You’re mad at me for not knowing exactly what you want. One day you say you want to be friends, and the next, you’re flirting with me and taking my clothes off. It’s confusing, and I don’t think it’s fair to me.”

She looked at the floor, silent.

“I’m starting to feel like this is some big prank,” I continued. “I feel like you’re trying to make me fall in love with you, just to yank it all away at the last second.”

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed true. Maybe she was just using me. She kept leading me on, just to get upset with me when I wanted her. She could get blackout drunk and act however she wanted, only if I was there to blame for her bad decisions in the morning. I texted Reg: