By noon, Dave had received a tray of disappointing lunch items, along with a small stack of at-home testing kits. The group text had exploded all morning, with everyone chattering about the predicament they'd been thrown into. Rebecca tried to apologize, ready to blame herself for the entire shutdown of the hotel. Heather assured her she wasn't the issue, and they'd know for sure once the tests had arrived. That time was now.
Dave pulled the swab out of the little plastic strip. A knock stopped him there. He looked through the peephole, and spotted Pat, masked up, wiggling his test kit in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other. Dave opened the door, and pulled him in. "What are you doing?"
"I thought it'd be more fun if we bunked together for a bit. We're just carriers, so if we have it, it's not a big deal if we spread it to the other."
"So long as we keep it between us."
"That's why I didn't grab Kevin or Martin. I don't want Heather or Marlene to be at risk." Pat assured. Dave sighed. It wasn't a bad strategy. They poured the whiskey into the hotel-provided tumblers, and cheers'ed. 15 minutes later, they were negative, and received another knock at the door. Dave raised his eyebrows. They crept back to the peephole and saw Rebecca staring back at them with a grin.
The door swung open, and they ushered her in. "Now this is getting dangerous." Dave protested.
"I'm negative. I just got the result." Rebecca said, pulling her test out of a very large bag around her shoulder, and shaking it in their faces. "And I saw Pat walk past my door, and I put two and two together, and..."
"Are you sure? I mean, we don't know a lot about this new strain." Dave asked.
"I'm sure. I've been cooped up alone in my house for the last month. I don't want to do quarantine by myself again." Rebecca pleaded. Dave looked at her, squeezed into a tight sundress, her curves clinging to every inch. Even though Rebecca looked him right in the eye now, instead of way up at him as she used to do with her puppy dog eyes, the method was still as effective as ever.
"We have another glass on the table." Dave relented.
"Yes!" Rebecca said, jumping in the air and pouring herself a glass of whiskey. "I brought a bargaining chip, myself." From her bag, she pulled several bottles of wine.
"Well at least we're stocked up." Pat commented.
They sat on Dave's bed, playing cards, watching TV, and getting blissfully day drunk. The quarantine staples. But with every ripple of laughter, came the hushed guilt. They were breaking the rules, and felt terrible for people trapped by themselves. "Let's see how the rest are doing." Dave said, whipping out his phone and typing into the group chat:
*results?*
*NEGATIVE!* came a quick shot back from Marlene. She had been all over the group that morning, updating everyone about the cancelled events on campus, and the hotel's constantly changing policies. The three in 412 sighed.
*We're in 412 if you want a celebratory drink* Dave shot back.
*Gonna play it safe at least for the next day or two* Martin shot back. They all understood.
*Neg* came Heather and Kevin, almost at the same time. *Staying in, tho*
It made sense. Nobody wanted to take any risks on the first day. Except for the immune team. They raised their glasses to their negative friends. Then the buzz came.
*I've got it.* Shit. Erica. Pat felt his face flush.
"I'm gonna, use the bathroom." He said, and excused himself. Dave and Rebecca understood. They sat on the bed together, soberly thinking over the consequences of their returning so soon to party.
"She'll be fine, though. Right?" Dave asked Rebecca. "You were fine."
"A lot of people are fine. Some get... really sick. And some..." She stretched out, almost subconsciously. Dave watched her long, firm body lengthen across his bed. He and Rebecca had only ever been friends. But seeing this statuesque beauty spread out across his sheets stirred something in him. The alcohol didn't help either. Rebecca caught his gaze. The bare hint of a smile washed across her face. She had only started to get used to that look. The naked lust of someone unable to hide their attraction. It had never happened to her when she was... ordinary.
Rebecca straightened up, and nudged her round ass next to Dave, making sure she just barely touched his. She put her hand on his lap. "She'll be fine. Erica's always been tough." Dave looked right into her big, brown eyes. You could get lost in those eyes.
Pat closed the door behind him, and pulled out his phone. He found Erica's number right away. They'd been texting separately all night into the morning. Especially after the announcement. He called her, and put the phone up to his ear. It rang for awhile. He wasn't sure she would pick up at all. She had a lot going on, after all. Finally there was a pause, and a quick, breathy "Hey."
"Are you ok?" Pat asked into the phone.
"I'm alright so far. Nothing crazy, but I had a feeling since this morning that something was up."
"Damn. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?" Pat replied.
"You're sweet, Pat. You're always sweet. I just think it's best if I do this alone."
"It won't affect me. It hasn't done anything to men, yet. We were just looking it up this morning." Pat assured.
"We? Oh, you guys are all still together at Dave's room."
"Yeah, the Immune Squad. I guess you're part of it now too, if..."
Erica sighed heavily through the phone. "It's no big deal. These days, I'm used to figuring things out on my own."
Pat hung up. Down the long hallway, in Room 428, Erica gasped. She didn't expect that. She wasn't trying to play hard to get at all, but to be rejected so quickly stung more than she thought it would. She stood up from her bed, and walked into the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror, watching as tears started to creep slowly out from her eyes. It had been a long 3 years. It had been an even longer 5 years, but the last 3 had only made the inevitable more obvious. She hadn't seen Craig in almost 9 months now. He was staying closer to work. He said it would be better for both of them. But it didn't feel better for her. Maybe she was meant to just be alone forever.
Then came the knock at the door. Erica jumped. She crept over to the door, and saw Pat in the peephole. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Her hand slowly wrapped around the doorknob as she pulled it open. "Pat, I don't think-"
That's when he kissed her. She jumped, but didn't back away. She remembered his lips, his tongue. The way he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world when he wrapped his arms around you. She kissed him back. When it was over, she looked him in the eyes. They had always been the same height. But perhaps not for long.
"You're blushing." Pat said.
"It's a symptom." Erica replied.
"If you say so." Pat winked. "Come back to the room with us. You're done suffering alone, Erica."
"I shouldn't. I can't." she protested.
"You can't hurt any of us. And technically you already infected me." Pat reasoned.
"How do I know you didn't infect me first?" Erica shot back, playfully.
"An excellent question. Let's go ask the others." He pulled her toward the door.
"Wait!" she stopped him. Pat rolled his eyes. Erica raced back to her suitcase and threw several items of clothing and knick knacks in her bag. "I want to be prepared for..."
"I don't know if there's any preparing that will help at this point." Pat said.
"I guess Rebecca will know." Erica thought out loud. Pat nodded, taking her hand.
Soon they were racing down the hall back to Room 412.
"You know," said Rebecca. "I always thought you were the cutest of all the guy friends we had." She had not broken eye contact with Dave since Pat had burst out of the restroom without so much as a word.
"Are we doing this, Rebecca?" Dave asked. "We're not kids anymore. We can just agree we're doing this."
Rebecca smiled. Her hand crept up his thigh, toward his swelling cock. Her face loomed closer toward his. Dave stared at her smile as it grew wider and closer to his. Her mouth parted just a bit, showing her bright, white teeth. Dave pulled her closer, feeling her breasts press against his chest through her thin sundress. She felt amazing to hold. Their lips just barely touched.
And then the knock came again. They bolted upright, staring forward at the door. They looked back at each other, blushing. Dave composed himself, standing up and walking toward the door. Rebecca organized herself, straightening out her dress, and shifting her girls around to be presentable.
Dave opened the door to see Pat and Erica staring back at him. "I brought something for you. A science experiment." Pat announced. Erica punched him playfully on the arm as they walked in.
"Hey guys." Erica said sheepishly. "Got room in the immune squad for one more?"
"Always." Dave said, hugging her gently. "How do you feel?"
"Fine, so far. Just a little weird. Funny, hard to describe." Erica tried.
"You don't have to describe anything. You're here to have fun." Pat said, squeezing her hand. Erica smiled.
"I know that look." Rebecca said, standing up and walking up to the group at the door. Erica's eyes shot away from Pat, guiltily.
"What look?"
"The flush. The Virus Flush. Your cheeks are so red, girl." Rebecca announced, proud of her expertise.
"Speak for yourself." Erica shot back. Rebecca blushed deeper, trying her best not to look at Dave. He did the same.
"This is stage 1. You're gonna feel all antsy and uncomfortable, and then... far from it. Verrrrrry comfortable." Rebecca winked. She pulled Erica into a hug. "I want to do this one last time before you're bigger than me."
"Oh god, do you think that will happen?" Erica said, fear in her voice.
"It affects everyone differently." Rebecca assured. "The first woman I knew who got it was a coworker. She had a headache and didn't change at all."
"I had a co-worker grow a couple inches." Dave added. "Another one didn't grow at all, but she lost a lot of weight."
"Which is why they want us to quarantine." Erica insisted. "They don't know what the hell this virus does to you."
"Well we're stuck in it now. Three years of being careful, and now we're at ground zero of the next big wave." Pat said.
"Cheers to that!" Rebecca said, pouring the last of the whiskey into now four glasses.
With help, they reorganized the Dave's room into a fortress of lazitude. The mattress was thrust onto the floor in front of the sad little couch, and the TV was placed in front of it on what remained of the bedframe. The deposit on the room was considered forfeit one bottle of wine ago. They called it the start of their conciliatory reparations from the Hotel LeGrande. After a few episodes of old sitcoms, one movie, and the very start of another, the sun began to set on their day of living dangerously.
Erica nestled up to Pat on the couch. She looked down from the TV at Dave and Rebecca lying on the mattress at their feet. Erica had stretched out comfortably against the firm hotel mattress. She looked at her tight bottom popping up from her sundress. The long legs that cascaded down past it came to a stop with her toes just tickling the end of the couch. Erica thought about her own body. She had spent the last few hours trying to pretend it didn't exist. She had always been the tall girl friend. 5'9" was quite above average for their small Michigan college. She remembered, after she and Pat had split up, how she was always a head above the other women on the big, square dance floor of the Armadillo Room every Thirsty Thursday night. She imagined how much worse it could be. The thought constricted her. Then she realized, it wasn't just the thought.
"Guys, I think something's... I gotta stand up." she pulled away from Pat, and stepped onto the mattress, wobbling toward the solid floor. She shook her arms, trying to shake this strange feeling. "It's like... my chest feels..."
"Your shirt feels tight." Rebecca said, standing up seriously.
"Oh god. Already?" Erica pleaded.
"Looks like it." Rebecca answered.
"Did it happen this quickly for you?"
"Well we don't know how long you've had it, first of all." Dave tried to help. He didn't. He stood up as well, with Pat behind him. "Also, um..." Dave tried his best to point as politely as possible at Erica's midriff. Her stomach had begun to poke out from her now rather tight top. It was a simple t-shirt, cut to show her figure but not accentuate it. Now, it was doing both. Erica covered her mouth with a gasp.
Pat pushed past Dave and held her. He caressed her long blonde hair, and just let her be held. She looked at him, and gasped again. She was looking ever so slightly down at him. She stood, bare feet touching the rough berber carpet, and pulled Pat closer. "How long is this going to last?"
"Mine was about a week." Rebecca said very carefully.
"What am I going to tell Craig?"
"You haven't told him yet?" Dave asked.
"Well, no... I told my mom. And then I just... didn't know how to put it?" Erica said.
"You don't have to tell him anything." Pat said. "He hasn't even texted you in almost a month. Let him find out the hard way."
"If he ever does at all." Rebecca added.
"Fuck yeah." Pat agreed.
"Fuck yeah." Erica said, standing up tall. "Let's get this week started then." She rolled up her shirt and tied the end, exposing more of her bare stomach. She had given in. There was no fighting it. No more need to worry. They opened another bottle of wine, and let the movie continue.
As the second act began, Dave realized the group text had been silent for some time, and he couldn't help but wonder how everyone else was doing.