I was 18 (almost 19) and away at school on my own. For the first time, I had my own room- a dorm room, granted, but it was mine! It was the smallest of small spaces, barely big enough for a dresser, a desk, and my bed- but I loved it. On the ground floor, but high enough that I didn’t have to worry about anyone getting in through the window, or so I thought.
I’d been seeing Jay for a few weeks- nothing serious, he was a either a junior or a senior in one of my English classes. He usually wore flannel shirts, tight jeans, and a wallet chain, which may have well been kryptonite to my panties. He was taller than me, thin build but muscle-y in that way only students can be (so much time in the gym!), brown eyes. Shaggy hair, in that early 2000’s fashionably weird way. We’d hung out a few times, to “study”, and he was a good kisser, though we’d barely gotten to second base.
It was late on a Tuesday night, and I was coming back from a shower when I heard a sound at my window. A little sound, like a tap. Maybe a branch, or the wind? Nope, there it was again. Tap. Then another, tap.