We had spent the night drinking with our roommates on what was supposed to be a regular Saturday night.
I told him if he didn’t want to stumble home, he could sleep in my room whenever he got tired. He was my best friend, so this wasn’t uncommon. But everything changes when there’s alcohol involved.
He slips his arm under my neck and the pillow I was using. A red flag raised in my mind, but I was drunk, and he was my best friend. No big deal.
But then, he kisses me, and in a drunken state, things heat up quickly.
It was dark.
The lights were out in the bedroom. He freezes suddenly, and I can hear him shuffle in a panic.
“Oh my God. Oh my God” he says.
And not in a good way.
“What? Are you OK?” I ask.
What was happening? It was dark, and we were both drunk and disoriented.
“I think, I think my nose is bleeding,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
I get off the bed and feel the blood that had fallen from his nose run down my back as I stand up.
I look at him, frozen in fear and embarrassment, with blood gushing from his nose.
I throw on some clothes and sneak out to my common room, where my friends were still drinking.
They had no idea what was happening on the other side of the door. I was supposed to be asleep, and he was supposed to be back in his own room.
To make things worse, campus police officers were invading the common room to bust my friends for drinking.
“Ah, there she is. We knew you were in here somewhere,” one officer says to me as I slip out from my room.
Campus police frequented our room on weekends to bust us for drinking. It was a small community college, so we were all on a first or last name basis.
“You got anyone in there with you, Russo?” they asked.
“Nope. Just me. I woke up to get some water,” I lied.
I slipped back in my room with a paper towel hidden behind my back and turned the light on.
There he is, in his naked-glory, with MY BEDSHEET up his nose.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I tell him we have bigger problems.
Campus security was approaching my bedroom door to search the room, and they had no problem with unlocking it without knocking.
He manages to put on boxers just in time.
“THIS is who you hiding in here?” The officers laugh as they open the door.
“Come on out Romeo,” they taunt, persuading him to come out into the common area.
This whole thing is embarrassing enough, getting caught in the middle of a first-time hook-up, who also happened to have a bloody nose.
But there was one thing nobody noticed.
He was standing in his boxers, with the paper towel hanging from his nose.
“What happened to you?” one officer asked.
He told them he had gotten a bloody nose, and a howling laughter erupts between the security officers and my roommates.
“Damn! She must like it rough!” one officer laughed.
The officers high five each other, laughing as they punch my best friend’s arm.
The officers finally pause their laughter long enough to search my bedroom for alcohol.
“Yup. You guys definitely had sex in here,” they yell out.
Now I’m mortified.
The rest of the night is pretty blurry, but I don’t think the bloody nose incident, as awkward as it was, stopped us from continuing where we left off after campus security left.
And that is how I met my boyfriend. Bloody nose and all.
Email Marissa Russo at firstname.lastname@example.org