On an Edge of Glass

front of us.  Her hands are on her hips.  She’s jutting her head to one side.  She looks at Ben and then at me and her eyes quickly dart back to him.  She seems unimpressed by my presence and I can’t say that I blame her. 
                  “Ben,” she says his name gently.  She reaches her hand forward to lightly graze his arm. 
    He flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull back.  This seems to be what she’s hoping for, and her fingers slide down to encapsulate his wrist.  She pulls him toward her body. 
    My heart is jammed up in my throat.  Things inside of me are cracking and I realize that it’s jealousy that’s hammering everything into smithereens.  How ridiculous is that?  What rational reason do I have to be jealous?  None.  Ben can do what he likes.  He can talk, kiss, be with whomever he likes.
    I look away and focus on the twenty steps that it’s going to take to reach the front door.  Walking more quickly, I ignore the whistling in my blood and pay attention to the sound of my feet hitting the ground.  Ben is strangely silent.  I figure that he and Lily are having some sort of intense staring contest, but I don’t look back over my shoulder to verify this. 
    “Nice to meet you,” Lily says slimly, just this-side of rude.
    My fingers are braced on the knob of the front door.  I swivel on my heels, whipping my head around. 
    They’re both standing there, four steps down on the walkway.  Ben’s mouth is partway open.  His gold-flecked eyes are directed at me.  He looks ready to scream or cry or hit something.  Or maybe I don’t know what he’s thinking at all.  Maybe I don’t know him at all. 
    Lily i s still touching him and it kills me.  My stomach is completely hollowed out and I feel pressure start to build up behind my eyes.  How pathetic will Ben think that I am if I start to cry right now? 
    Over wha t? 
    One drunken kiss.
    A dance. 
    I remind myself that we a re nothing significant to each other.
    Ben and Lily, however, have had years of kissing, laughing together, dancing.  Sex.   He obviously loved her if he was with her for two years. 
    Who am I kidding?  He probably still loves her.  What guy wouldn’t?  She’s beautiful and sexy and confident in all the ways that I’m not.
    Deep breath.  For Lily’s benefit, I use my sweetest smile, but I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t reach my eyes. 
    “We didn’t exactly meet, but I’m Ellie Glass.  I’m just one of Ben’s new roommates.  That’s all,” I say nimbly as I slip inside.  The door falls shut with a loud thump, leaving me in the darkness of the front hall. 
                  Ben and Lily are outside together for almost an hour. 
    I know this because I watch the clock on the small table by my bed like my life depends on it.  Clearly, falling asleep is out of the question. 
    I roll under my duvet and yank my pillow over my head hoping to block out the muffled sounds of Ben and Lily talking on the porch.  When that doesn’t work, I bring my laptop to life and open up my favorite playlist. 
    The clock nears midnight.  Finally, I hear the front door open and close as Ben comes inside.  My ears strain over the chords of soft music and I make out only one set of footsteps.  At least Lily hasn’t followed him inside.  At my bedroom door, the sound of his steps stops.  Sitting up, I see the shadow of his feet through the sliver under the door.  I wait, holding my breath and hoping that my insistently thudding heart won’t break any rib bones.
    The knock that I half-expect never comes.  Eventually, his feet move on and I hear a clunking sound and then the bathroom door closes.  The pipes whine in protest as the hot water for the shower is turned on.
    I let a held breath whoosh out of my lungs. 
    I don’t want to think about Ben anymore.  I don’t want to think about his ex-girlfriend holding his hand or kissing him.  I don’t want to think about dancing with him, or the gentle way that he touched my face in the car.  And I definitely don’t want to think about Ben Hamilton in the shower naked. 
    So I turn over and close my eyes, and this time I refuse to open them for anyone or anything. 
     
     
    A group of students walk past us, talking and laughing.  I sigh miserably. 
    Mark opens his mouth and then closes it.  He taps one finger against his outstretched leg.  His head is tilted to one side and he’s looking at me like he’s