Had we . .
.
The
previous night’s events came back to me slowly and I realized I’d fallen asleep
on his shoulder while watching vampires.
Thank god.
We hadn’t gone that
far, but it was still a mistake. We were supposed to be just friends. Friends
didn’t casually fall asleep nestled together like lovers on the guy’s couch. I
was supposed to be strong. I wasn’t supposed to fall for Hunter, yet I’d fallen
asleep in his arms. This was bad. I gently unweaved my limbs from Hunter’s,
careful not to disturb him. Then I grabbed my bag and snuck out of his
apartment.
Why was I
always sneaking out of his place?
LESSONS
Rushing across campus from
Hunter’s apartment, I got back to my dorm around ten in the morning. It was
Friday and I had to get to swim class. I climbed the four flights of stairs to
my suite and gingerly unlocked the door, hoping that Daniela wouldn’t notice
that I was away all night. Otherwise I’d owe her an explanation, and I did not
want to have to explain that I’d slept over at Hunter’s place last night.
I opened
the suite door and saw Daniela sitting on the couch watching TV. She slowly
twisted her head in my direction and her wide green eyes locked onto me making
me jump. Her movement reminded me of the movie
The Exorcist
. Damn horror
movies last night.
“Well,
well, well,” she said with a sly grin.
“Hello to
you too. I was just grabbing breakfast in the dining hall.” It was a good
excuse and
I was pleased with myself for thinking quick on my toes.
“No, you
weren’t.”
Shit.
“I knocked
on your door two hours ago to go eat breakfast. I’ve been sitting on this
couch, waiting for you to get up and here you come walking through the front
door. You were out all night weren’t you? Hm?” Her eyes were mischievous yet
probing.
Shifting
nervously on my feet, I answered, “I got up at seven and went down early.”
“And ate a
three hour breakfast?” She swiped her hand as if batting away my excuse. “I’m
hungry and irritable. Admit it. I caught you, Lorrie. Spill.”
I put my
hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright.” I sighed heavily. “I slept over at
Hunter’s place.”
Her eyes
widened and seemed to become possessed. “No way. I know I warned you to be
careful around him, but what’s done is done. Tell me everything. Was he big?
Small? Was he rough? Tender? Spare no detail. I want
everything.
”
“Whoa,
whoa.” I was tempted to make a cross sign with my fingers to ward her away but
ended up just shoving my hands in the air in front me. “We didn’t have sex. We
didn’t even kiss. I just went over to his place to watch some movies we rented
and I fell asleep on his couch. It wasn’t even intentional, I was just tired.”
I then remembered that Hunter was supposed to help me with studying for my
psych class but that clearly never happened.
Dammit Hunter.
“Oh.”
Daniela deflated. “Well I’m happy for you Lorrie. Sounds like you’ve made a new
friend in Hunter.”
“I don’t
know, it’s really awkward. It was a mistake. We were supposed to be just
friends and I think I might’ve given him an unintentional signal. He might
think I want to take things further.”
“How do
you feel about him? Do you want to be just friends?”
“Of course
I just want to be friends!” I said, trying to convince her as much as myself.
“Like I said before I’m not ready for a relationship. I’m having a hard enough
time getting back into the swing of things and keeping up with my classes. I
just want a normal, drama-free life.”
She looked
at me skeptically as if me telling her I was only interested in Hunter as a
“friend” was a bold-faced lie. “Not to be a nagging-nanna but I already told
you he’s got a reputation for shagging and tagging girls all over campus. I’m
glad you and him are friends but I don’t want to see you getting hurt by him.
He’s broken a few hearts before.”
“Thanks
Daniela, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be careful.”
Daniela
asked me a few more questions about Hunter and I responded as agreeably as I
could. The conversation could’ve gone on for a good hour but I had to cut it
short when I noticed the time on the clock in our suite.
“Well, I
have to go to class,” I said. I hurriedly packed my backpack with my swimsuit
and left the dorm.
It was the
first day of my swim class which started later in the semester than the other
classes. Since there was a lake around campus, students at Arrowhart were
required to either pass a swim test or take a swim class. I had planned to take
the swim test but there was some administrative mix up and they didn’t register
me in time for it. I ended up being signed up for the swim class, which I
didn’t mind. After that debacle with falling into the lake, I figured I could
use the practice.
On my way
past the student union, I received a text from Hunter.
Why did
you leave?
I thumbed
a quick response.
Had class in the morning. Sorry.
You
forgot to take my trash with you :).
I knew he
was trying to be funny, but I didn’t find it particularly amusing. Sleeping
over at his place was a mistake, not a joke. To drop the issue, I responded
with a simple smiley.
Walking
across the arts quad, I arrived at The Annex, which was a large glass building
used for athletic activities. Among its various amenities, it had a
state-of-the-art gym and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. I navigated the
hallways, following the signs posted for the swimming pool, and found the
women’s locker room. I changed into my swimsuit and went to join the swim
class.
The
instructor introduced himself as Mitch McHenry. He was an older man with gray
on the top of his head matching his neatly groomed mustache and beard. His
posture and the commanding tone of his voice reminded me of a military officer.
“All
right, guppies! Who here already knows how to swim?”
About half
the class raised their hand, myself included.
“Good. You
guys can help out your fellow classmates. Since it’s everyone’s first day, I’m
going to go over the basics: the doggy-paddle and treading water. Then you guys
are going to do laps back and forth on the shallow end of the pool.”
One by
one, each student entered the pool. Some dipped their toes to test the water
before hopping in, some took the steps down, and some cannonballed right into
the pool. Once everyone was up to their necks in chlorinated water, Mr. McHenry
spent the next ten minutes demonstrating how to do the strokes properly then he
ordered us to practice.
I already
knew the basic strokes so practice was a breeze. It was apparent half the class
felt the same way but the other half were borderline drowning in five feet of
water. Mr. McHenry spent the next half hour helping the worst cases.
I was in
the middle of helping a redheaded female freshman with her doggy paddle, when I
glanced over and saw a student through the pool’s glass entrance walking toward
the men’s locker room. He briefly passed by the entrance but then doubled-back.
I recognized him. Hunter narrowed his eyes at me then waved in my direction.
My pulse
leaped. The moment was beyond awkward—particularly because I was trying to
avoid him—but I managed to wave back. Just when I thought he’d walk over and
we’d have an uncomfortable conversation about why I bolted from his apartment
this morning in front of the entire swim class, he turned around and continued
toward the men’s locker room. I was left with both relief and regret.
“Focus
your attention on your partner, Ms. Burnham,” a gruff voice said behind me,
making me jump out of the water.
I twisted
around to see Mr. McHenry helping the redheaded freshman stay afloat. Her face
was as bright as her hair. I was supposed to be helping her but I’d been
distracted.
“Oh I’m so
sorry,” I said, apologizing to both Mr. McHenry and the redhead—who now had a
scowl on her face.
“Just
because you know how to swim, doesn’t give you the right to let your fellow
classmate drown,” Mr. McHenry said, more as a statement than an accusation. He
assigned the freshman to a different partner and then turned back to me. “So
you know Hunter?”
I found
the question odd coming from Mr. McHenry so I paused a moment before answering.
“Yeah . . .”
“Are you
guys friends?”
“Um . . .
yeah I met him a few weeks ago and we became friends . . . Do you know him from
somewhere?”
He glanced
at the entrance where Hunter had been then returned his gaze to me. “I run the
ROTC program here. Hunter was a member two years ago.”
“He wanted
to be in the Army?” Just as I asked the question, the image of the shirt he’d
given me and the model airplanes in his closet popped into mind.
“Air
Force, actually. He was dead set on making it. I put a lot of effort into
training and helping him. I hoped he’d make it but unfortunately he’s no longer
in the program.”
Curious, I
asked, “Why not?”
“It
definitely wasn’t because of his performance. With evaluations like he had, he
was a shoo-in for any branch . . . but well . . . it’s his story to tell, not
my place to discuss details.” He scratched his neatly trimmed beard. “He’s a
good kid but a bit troubled. Anyway, I have to go make sure nobody drowns.
Although you’re a bit irresponsible, you seem like a nice girl. Just thought
you ought to know. If you get the chance, keep your eye on Hunter. Make sure he
stays out of trouble.”
Mr.
McHenry swam away to help another student, leaving me to think about what he’d
just told me. He’d asked me to watch over Hunter implying that Hunter, for some
reason, needed watching over. Gary had mentioned something similar. Could it
have been a coincidence? I didn’t know what to make of it except that Hunter
seemed like the kind of guy who could take care of himself. Between Hunter and
myself, I was probably the one who needed help.
FRIENDS?
The weekend passed as well
as the beginning of the next week. I’d been trying to avoid Hunter but he’d
been texting me at least a few times per day. I had to tell him I’d gotten sick
over the weekend to gracefully turn down his requests to hang out. It was
getting harder to make up excuses to avoid him without appearing suspicious.
I’d just
finished art history class learning about how Van Gogh cut off his ear and was
in the hall preparing to head to my next class when I received a call. Nervous
that it was Hunter, my heart started beating faster as I reached into my pocket
for my phone. It was one thing brushing him off via text, it was another saying
it out loud. Talking made it more difficult to come up with excuses. I took a
deep breath and looked at my phone. I released a long sigh when I saw that it
was my aunt.
“Hey Aunt
Caroline!” I answered as I went to a private corner in the Arts building to
talk to her.
“Hey hey!
How are you doing?”
“Good.
Just got done with my art history class.”
“Oh,
sounds like you’re keeping busy. How’s your semester going so far?”
“It’s been
a little difficult, but I think I’m getting used to it.”
“Sounds
wonderful. Hey, what do you think about me visiting you next week? The boys are
going on a field trip to D.C. and Stewart’s going on a business trip. Plus it’s
been a while since I’ve visited Studsen.”
My heart
leaped. “I’d love it if you came and visited.”
“Perfect.
I’ll see you next week!”
Just as I
hung up, I noticed an icon at the top of the screen telling me I had a
voicemail. It was from Hunter.
“Hey
Lorrie, haven’t heard from you in a while. Just wondering if you’re doing all
right. You want to get together and hang out this week?”
An
electronic voice asked me to press seven if I wanted to delete the message and
nine if I wanted to save it. I thought about how I needed to have less
complications in my life and at a tap of a digital button, I could do that. I
pressed seven.
I had a
good hour and a half until my economics class. It was a short enough break that
it made going back to my dorm impractical. Instead, I found a bench outside and
whipped out my sketch pad just as the sky started sprinkling snow. I became
entranced by a lone blue bird perched atop a branch of one of the large trees
that lined the arts quad. The color of his feathers reminded me of Hunter’s
fighting trunks. Most of the birds had flown south by now, but this little guy
was an exception. He wasn’t normal, just like me.
“Nice
doodle.”
Startled
by Hunter’s sudden appearance, I nearly poked a hole through the paper with my
pencil. Looking over my shoulder, he exhaled a warm breath against my neck,
raising goosebumps on the skin.
“Thanks,”
I replied coolly, giving him only a quick glance before returning to my
drawing. I did my best to ignore him though I knew it was futile.
“Are birds
your favorite thing to draw?”
“Not
really. This weird one just happened to catch my attention, that’s all. I’m not
particularly attached to it or anything.”
“Are you
trying to avoid me?” he hummed in my ear, making me realize I hadn’t said ‘hi’
to him.
“What?” I
laughed nervously. “Don’t be silly. I’ve just been busy with classes.”
“Are you
busy now?”
“I’m busy
drawing my picture.”
“Can you
draw in a place where it’s a little warmer? Maybe at the cafe? I’ll buy you a
latte, my treat.”
I grumbled
because I wanted to avoid Hunter and him showing up and asking me to hang out
at a cafe didn’t mix. But then I remembered I had a debt to repay him.
“Alright, let’s go. I’ll buy though since you got the ice cream last time.”
We went to
Huck Cafe. Upon my insistence, I ordered him a latte and he thanked me for the
kind gesture. Then I ordered a black coffee for myself. We found a table and
sat down across from one another.
Hunter
took a long sip of his drink. “Mmm yummy. Want a sip?”
“No thank
you, Hunter,” I said politely.
“So,
Lorrie—” He looked at me seriously. “—Is it because you stayed over at my place
after we watched those movies?”
His direct
question caught me off guard. “Uh . . . no.”
He shook
his head. “Why are you freaking out about staying over at my place? Just
because you stayed over doesn’t mean anything.”
I was
prepared to agree with him about me staying over not meaning anything but the
“not meaning anything” part upset me, when I knew it shouldn’t.
“Why would
you say it doesn’t mean anything? It does mean something. It means we went
further than we should have as friends.”
“We didn’t
do anything though. I didn’t even kiss you when you fell asleep. Are you saying
that having my arm around you is inappropriate?”
I sighed.
Hunter didn’t understand the implications of the situation. “When you hang out
with Gary, does he fall asleep nestled in your arms after you guys down some
beers?”
“What? No!
Of course not. That’s different.”
“How is
that different?”
“Gary’s a
dude. Man Code doesn’t allow that.”
“Okay,
well what does Man Code say about falling asleep with girls that are friends?”
“It says
it’s acceptable if neither of them are attached to anyone else. Therefore, what
we did was acceptable. You might even say normal. Unless . . . you are
attached?”
“No, I’m
not,” I clarified, hoping Hunter took the cue that I was including my feelings
toward him as well.
“Good,
then there’s no issue.”
“I hate to
tell you this, Hunter, but I don’t abide by Man Code. I abide by Girl Code.”
He lifted
one brow. “Alright . . . then what does Girl Code say?”
I took a
sip of my black coffee enjoying the sobering bitter taste. “First rule of Girl
Code: don’t talk about Girl Code.”
He
narrowed his gaze at me. “So you’re already breaking the first rule?”
“I
referenced it. I didn’t talk about it.”
He rolled
his eyes. Although I’d done that plenty of times to him, it was the first time
I saw him do it to me. “I’m pretty sure you referenced
Fight Club
rather
than an actual rule.”
“Does it
matter?”
“Yes, it
matters! Dammit, Lorrie. Talk to me. I’m okay with you not telling me some
things about yourself but please, don’t avoid me. I told you before, I don’t
bite.”
I sighed.
“Hunter, this—” I referenced to the space between us. “—is drama I don’t need
right now. I have enough problems already. This is what I was concerned about
in terms of us becoming ‘friends’ and now it’s come true.”
“Lorrie,”
he sighed. “My dick’s not coming out. My lips are keeping to themselves. My
hands aren’t roaming. You wanted that, and I’ve been following through. You
want me to keep
you
accountable
now? You want me to kick you
outta my place when you fall asleep on my couch? You want me to be an asshole?”
“No . . .
yes. I mean, no. I can handle myself just fine, Hunter. I just want you to know
that us sleeping together last night wasn’t a signal for you to move forward.”
He put his
hands up briefly in defense as if I was going for a takedown attempt on him.
“Consider it known.”
“It was a
mistake on my part,” I added. “And it shouldn’t have happened in the first
place.”
“It wasn’t
a mistake. Nothing happened beyond sleeping. I haven’t forgotten our ‘friend’—”
He put his fingers up and wiggled them to indicate quotes. “—friend agreement.
But honestly, I’m a little pissed off you didn’t talk to me about this upfront.
Avoiding me is such a drama-queen thing to do. I thought you were different
from other girls. Maybe I was wrong.”
“Ugh, I
hate to disappoint you, Hunter, but even if I’m cool with watching hockey with
you and talking about threesomes, I’m still a girl. I have emotions you know.”
I was beginning to see cracks in our friendship and as much as it sucked to
consider, I wasn’t sure if we were going to work out. Maybe we didn’t understand
each other as well as we’d thought. “If you still want to be friends, you’re
just going to have to deal with that fact. Besides, didn’t you say yourself
that I was both selfless and selfish?”
He
grumbled. “And just because I’m a guy, doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just
because you see me getting punched in the face doesn’t mean I don’t get upset
when you do shit like avoid me. Man, when I woke up and found out you weren’t
there, I got worried.”
“Why would
you get worried? I told you I had to go to class.”
“That was
after I texted you first asking where you went. Even when I made that joke
about you forgetting to take my trash with you and you responded with a smiley,
I knew you were faking it. You usually respond to my jokes with L-O-L and then
some snarky comeback that makes me laugh. I knew you were hiding your true
feelings. They don’t call you Lorrie Hide for nothing.”
Hunter
knew some of my habits better than even I did. “Only you call me that,
Gunther.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he did the same to me.
“I know
you have some personal issues you’re dealing with, Lorrie. I don’t know what
they are and I haven’t asked you about them because I know you don’t wanna talk
about it. I’m fine with that. I got my own issues and I’m more than happy to leave
our skeletons in their closets. Just don’t leave me hanging especially since I
care about you.”
After a
few moments, I realized how poorly I handled the situation and decided to take
responsibility. “Alright, fine. I’m sorry for being a bitch to you, Hunter. I
care about you as well. I just sort of freaked out and didn’t give you enough
credit. I’m actually surprised you’re being so level headed about this.”
His
shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “I humbly accept your apology. And I’m sorry
for being such a comfortable pillow for your face that I made you fall asleep
on me.”
“Apology
accepted,” I puffed.
He
grinned. “That wasn’t so hard was it? I’m glad that we talked this out and got
it resolved. Aren’t you?”
“I suppose
so.”
“So are we
still friends?”
My lips
betrayed a small smile. “Yeah.”
He
returned the smile and gently put his palm over my hand. “Am I allowed to put
my hand on top of yours?”
“I
suppose,” I said, relishing the warmth from his skin more than the warmth from
the coffee in my other hand.
“Are you
going to stop blowing me off?” His dark gray eyes were wide and fiercely
tender.
How
could he attack me with such adorable puppy-dog eyes?
I felt
myself becoming immediately disarmed. “I can’t promise anything,” I grumbled,
taking a sip of my drink to hide the smile on my face. “But I’ll try.”
“Good
enough.”
He pulled
a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“What’s
this?” I asked.
“A flyer.
It’s for an art portfolio competition. I saw it hanging up on the student board
in the Barnyard and thought about you.”
I took the
paper from him, dimly musing about how silly it was for the school to name the
main cafeteria as “The Barnyard”. I unfolded the flyer and scanned the details.
The winner would get featured in a major art gallery in Chicago and a good
chunk of cash.
“Thanks,
Hunter. It sounds exciting but I don’t think my stuff is exactly a fit for this
kind of competition.”
“What are
you talking about? You’re a great artist! Don’t sell yourself short.”
I pointed
at one of the example pieces in the flyer. “This is ‘high art’.” I pulled out
one of my previous sketches from my backpack and showed it to him. “This is
not.”
He looked
at the sketch and jolted backward nearly falling out of his chair. “Whoa.”
“See? I
told you.”
His eyes
narrowed. “No, this is good! Like really good. It’s so realistic. Man the
shading and everything. Scared the hell outta me when I saw it.”
I looked
at the drawing again. It was a giant fly head with a human body like the one in
the movie Hunter and I rented.
“It was
just a quick sketch,” I said a little bashfully. I’d never really shown people
my sketches before because I didn’t think they were that good. Hunter’s
positive reaction surprised me.
“How
quick?”
“Like ten
minutes.”
“No way
you did that in ten minutes. Lorrie, is your real last name Picasso? Is that
why you haven’t told me it? Because that’s some serious talent you’ve got
there. ”
“If you
like it so much, you can keep it. Here.” I handed him the drawing, feeling it
to be an appropriate gesture since he’d thought of me when taking the flyer.