Hello, Handsome

by H, Caity

  “Mom,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”

  “You don’t remember it the way I do, sweetie,” she promised, smiling fondly at him.

  His dad walked back in with some more stuff. “Oh, you must be his parents,” Jeff said, nodding to Mom and Dad. “I’m Jeff Seawall.” He shook dad’s hand.

  “Steve Diamond, my wife Patty.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Only one kid?” Dad nodded. “Time for that cruise, am I right?” he chuckled, but the smile dropped from his face when Tracy glared at him. “Just kidding, sweetie.”

  I smirked, shaking my head before turned to I finish making my bed. It didn’t take long and since that was all I’d really planned on doing as far as unpacking went, I felt somewhat accomplished.

  Mom was talking to Alastair’s mom, and our fathers were also talking. With any luck, our parents would soon become best friends and we would all see each other on weekends for barbeques.

  I stopped beside Alastair. “Are you guys allergic to anything?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “My mom is going to convince yours that a weekly meeting to talk about how sad they are over their loss of us is a good idea. She’ll want to know if you guys are allergic to anything so she can plan accordingly.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

  With a shake of my head, I watched our parents. “Not even kinda.”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, answering as I stepped away from my new roommate “Yes?”

  “Hey!” It was Honeybee. “We’re almost to Westview, are you free to come over?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  We said our goodbyes and I slid the phone back into my pocket. I dropped a hand on Alastair’s shoulder. “I gotta help a friend of mine move into her dorm. You’ve been here before, how late does this place stay unlocked?” We would likely go out for diner after I helped Honeybee move in.

  He smirked and lowered his voice. “Is this like a friends with benefits thing?”

  Why did everyone assume we were like that?

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not. This is like a friend being nice to another friend. How late?”

  Alastair ruffled his red hair. “Late enough that you won’t have to really worry about it. But your student ID card will always get you in your dorm regardless of what time it is.” He shot a glance at our parents before flashing a grin. “And if you do have a lady friend, the rooftop is a good place to take them. Private, open, and chicks dig rooftop dates.”

  That much I knew already. Honeybee had gone on and on about the date Ryan took her on. It was gross.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I laughed, bumping fists with him before I walked over to my parents. Mom paused in her conversation. “I’m gonna go help Bee get unpacked in her dorm room. Are you going to call Debby when you and Dad know what the dinner plan is?”

  “Yes. I’ll call her in a little bit.” She patted my arm. “Have fun, tell Debby there’s another person joining us for coffee this Saturday.” She glanced back at Margo.

  “Will do,” I answered with a laugh, shooting an “I-told-you-so” look at Alastair. “See you in a bit.”

  Seven: Perfectionist in Sweatpants

  We managed to get everything in one trip.There was no way I was making two or three trips up that flight of steps. She was on the third floor, and some idiot decided that not putting an elevator in was a good idea.

  “Here we are!” Honeybee chimed, smiling brightly at the two of us. Using her hip to push the door open, she stepped inside, her mom and I following closely behind her.

  The rooms in Westview were smaller than ours at Bartlow. Judging by the posters of art on the wall, I assumed her roommate was already there.

  “You must be Olivia,” a girl’s voice said, leaving a small closet that couldn’t possibly hold more than a few things at a time. What was the point of stuffing college kids into tiny rooms? Cramped spaces, hormonal kids, and a campus that allowed drinking; did they want us to murder each other?

  “I’m Rachel Adelson.” She had long dark hair and glasses, wearing sweats and a tank top. “Is this your family?” the flirty grin she shot in my direction made me cringe.

  “My mom and my best friend,” Honeybee answered.

  I set her boxes down on the floor. I wasn’t sure what my role was past hired hands that didn’t get paid. “What needs to be done?” I asked, getting an answer from the wrong female.

  “We need to rearrange furniture,” Rachel answered, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked around, surveying the rooms.

  There was a bunk bed pressed up against the left wall, two matching desk and chair sets, two tiny closet spaces, a small coffee table that looked like it belonged to Rachel, and just enough room to plug in a mini fridge if they got one.

  “Do you have a T.V?” she asked, looking to Honeybee.

  “No.”

  “That’s okay, I do. We can set it up on my coffee table.”

  “Great,” Honeybee said, smiling first at Rachel, then at me and her mom. “I’ll probably just stuff my clothes in my closet and work on making my bed.” She turned to Rachel. “Then we can figure out where the furniture is going to go.”

  ***

  For the next hour or so I helped them move around their desks, rearranging over and over again because Rachel turned out to be a little bit of a perfectionist.

  The desk can’t face the door; it throws off the flow of the room.

  It was hard to believe that in a room so small there could be any flow at all, but she was determined. After I’d moved the desk the fourth time I was beginning to wonder what her deal was.

  When Rachel left the room, I slid up next to Honeybee who was setting up her desk. She’d left it the first place I put it, which was near the back wall. There were a few pictures on the desk, one from when we were younger. Her dad was in the picture with us. He always looked so happy.

  “Your roommate is freaking me out.” She looked up sharply at my words. “She is,” I promised. After months of me being honest about things, she really should’ve trusted my judgment more. I was almost offended.

  “We just met her,” she replied, slipping her backpack and purse beneath the desk. “You can’t decide if she’s creepy yet.” That was a little hypocritical. She’d prejudged plenty of my friends in the past on first meeting. Then again, Rachel wasn’t her friend yet.

  “I can. I have.” She rolled her eyes and proceeded to ignore me. I was getting a little too used to that kind of treatment from her.

  I sat back, leaning on the desk as I watched her work. She looked so relaxed, blonde hair piled high on her head, shorts and an old baseball shirt, one from when we’d played together in middle school. I had the same one, but mine no longer fit me. It helped that her dad had ordered her the wrong size.

  Seeing her wear the shirt brought back memories, and I wondered if she wore it for that purpose. Maybe it helped her cope with the fact her dad hadn’t taken her to her first college dorm.

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked softly. “Without your dad?”

  She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s just weird, ya know?” I nodded. “I thought he’d be here with me. But he isn’t.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses. She met my gaze with a weak smile.

  I smiled back, pulling her close and tucking her into my side. She hugged me back, arms wrapped tight around my back as she buried her face against my chest. It was one of those moments where everything felt okay. Despite all the crap and stress, we had each other.

  I sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Awh, aren’t you two cute,” Rachel’s voice chimed from the doorway, effectively killing the moment I was having with Honeybee. “You didn’t tell me you guys were dating.”

  I pulled back, keeping one arm around Honeybee’s shoulders. “It’s rude to interrupt, and also it’s rude to assume things.” My tone was harsher than it should’ve
been, but I couldn’t help it. The first time in weeks it felt like we were really best friends, and it was interrupted by the perfectionist in sweats.

  She raised a perfectly sculpted brow at me. “Excuse me for coming into my own dorm room. If anyone’s intruding, it’s you.” She huffed, stepping to the bunks to set a small stuff horse in between the pillows. I glanced down at Honeybee and wondered if she’d brought Garth with her, the stuffed animal her father had given her.

  “Hey Olivia, you about ready to be done for the time being?” her mom asked as she finished making the bed. “I think we have a dinner place picked out for tonight.” Debby glanced at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go call your mom and let her know we shouldn’t be more than a half an hour?”

  “Will do.” I glanced at Honeybee, sending her a wink. “Just by the way, after our parents leave we’re getting ice cream and staying up late. We’re adults now, so we can do crazy stuff like that.”

  Eight: Root Beer and Rooftops

  After dinner, and long goodbyes from both sets of parents, Honeybee and I were left to our own devices. It didn’t take long for us to go buy ice cream, root beer, and head to Bartlow.

  The rooftop was likely to be empty on the first day, so I chose to take her there.

  “Are you sure we’re allowed up here?” Honeybee asked, walking across the rooftop. The lights of the city below us glowed brightly, shades of yellow and orange flickering across the walls. She walked over to the edge, placing her hands on the railing.

  I nudged her with my shoulder. “Yes, it’s fine.” I was pretty sure Alastair wouldn’t have lied to me. Unless it was a joke played on the freshmen class.

  She leaned against the railing. “We’re not allowed on the rooftop. Apparently it’s not very safe.”

  Shrugging, I handed her the root beer float in my hands, keeping the second one for myself. “Well, my school is just cooler than yours.” I grinned when she let a long and loud sigh slip past her lips. The eyebrow she raised in my direction was higher than normal. After a few seconds of silent judgement, she chose to watch the city again.

  “Or they just don’t care about the safety of their students. I guess we’ll find out who has the better school at the end of the semester,” she said and picked up the spoon, taking a bite of the ice cream. “Spoilers, it’s not gonna be you.”

  I grinned, shaking my head. There was no way she had the safer campus. With so many sports players and chemists running around Bartlow, they needed all the medically trained people they could find to protect us all from dying. Someone could break a leg or blow something up. The soccer team had our own personal doctor. From what I had heard, there was an intern as well that would be around for the minor stuff.

  A school where the majority of the students were majoring in journalism or education wouldn’t need more than one nurse on hand at a time, someone to give them Band-Aids for all the papercuts they were like to get.

  “I’m not the one leaning against the railing” I said, leaning in close, shaking the rail for added effect.

  Her eyes met mine and she grinned a little before she replied. “Still, you’ll be the first one of us to get injured on campus.” The confidence in her voice almost made me wonder if she was going to have me taken out just so she’d be right.

  “Is that a challenge?” I asked, wincing as my brain started to catch up with how much ice cream I was shoveling down my throat.

  Honeybee shrugged, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “It might be.” The hints of a smile tugged at her lips. My eyes narrowed in on the movement and I felt a familiar flop in my stomach.

  It was always those moments when my stomach would do that weird flipping thing, where my brain would want to move loser and see if her lips were as soft as they’d been the last time we’d kissed. There were moments when I wondered if breaking my promise to not kiss her might be worth the risk.

  Shaking myself mentally, I filled my mouth with ice cream. Maybe a brain freeze would stop my current thought process. After I swallowed, I replied. “Well, what’s it worth to you?”

  Honeybee spared a glance my way, the tip of her spoon almost to her lips. “What do I get if I win?” She finished her bite and then pulled the straw to her lips, drinking some of the root beer.

  What would be a good prize for not getting hurt first? Bragging rights weren’t nearly good enough. Maybe more root beer floats, but something told me that wouldn’t entice her enough, either. What did Honeybee really want?

  Then it hit me.

  “If I lose I’ll let you dye my hair again.”

  Her eyes widened, and she put a hand on my arm. Her fingers were like ice and a shiver rolled down my back. “Are you serious?”

  “100%!” I promised. “If I get injured first I will let you dye my hair any color you want.”

  “What about multiple colors?” she wondered, circling her finger around the top of her glass.

  “If I get injured in a really dumb way, I’ll let you do multiple colors,” I replied, shaking my head at her. She had a fascination with my hair, or at least putting color in it, which was weird. Why did she find it so entertaining?

  She clapped her hands together, giddy like a little kid getting a second helping of ice cream. “Okay, what do I have to do if I get hurt first?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. The wind carried stray pieces of her hair around her face. I reached forward, pushing them behind her ear, feeling that stupid stomach drop feeling again.

  What did she have to do if she got hurt first? Let me kiss it better.

  I groaned internally, forcing my brain away from her lips. Lips were dangerous.

  “Maybe I’ll dye your hair, too. I don’t know.”

  “You’d probably burn my hair or something.”

  She really didn’t have much confidence in my abilities.

  “Ye of little faith.” I leaned over the railing, hands clasped together. “So we gotta deal?”

  “I still don’t know what you’re planning to do to me,” she raised her spoon at me. “How do I know it’s gonna be legal? Maybe you’ll ask me to steal a car, or something as bad.”

  Not if I wanted to stay friends with her.

  “I wouldn’t make you do something bad,” I nudged her with my shoulder. “I’m a nice guy.” The look she gave me said she believed otherwise.

  Sighing, I decided to change the subject. When the time came, I would figure something out, and the time definitely would come. There was no way I would be the one to get hurt first. Honeybee was the klutz in our friendship.

  “Are you worried about staring classes tomorrow?” I asked. We’d started so many things together, gone to the same school for thirteen years. It felt wrong to start college without her.

  She nodded. “It should be fine, though, right?” She looked at me a moment before she continued. “I mean, it’s just like starting high school. Except I don’t go home every day at four,” she answered, her voice light. I couldn’t tell if she was saying what she thought I wanted to hear, or if she really wasn’t worried about it.

  “I’m gonna miss that,” I mused, straightening.

  Taking her hand in mine, I led the way over to toward the back wall. We sat down so that we were mostly out of the wind. Despite our attempts, it was still kind of cold. She shivered, and I, being the gentleman that I was, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She huddled against me, stealing whatever body heat she could.

  “You’re a good wind barrier.”

  I yawned, leaning my head against hers. “Thanks, Bee.” Taking a breath, I could smell the vanilla in her hair. She always had the best shampoos and lotions.

  Whenever I was around her she always smelled perfectly enticing. That day last spring, when I’d kissed her for the first time since freshman year, it had been one of the main reasons. She’d just smelled so good. I couldn’t stop myself from standing near her, and then she’d gone and dared me to kiss her.

  “Are you worried?�
� she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  I thought about kissing her more than I probably should have.

  “A little bit,” I replied. It was university, the big leagues. If I got behind in classes, there wouldn’t be anyone to cover it up for me or finish my homework when I had soccer practice. Soccer itself was going to be so different. I was a freshman again, not one of the top players.

  “I guess you could say I’m a little worried about how I’m gonna handle my new work load.”

  She nodded, her head rubbing up and down against my shoulder. “Makes sense. It’s a big change.”

  “It is,” I agreed with a sigh.

  Silence fell between us, but it was the comfortable kind of silence. The one best friends’ shared. I was going to miss quiet nights with her.

  From our place on the roof, we could see the city moving and glowing. Her university was somewhere in the distance.

  Our schools were rivals. With all the extra stuff we’d have going on during the week, it was possible that games would be some of the few times we really saw each other. Even then, she’d probably cheer against me.

  She was leaving me. It was just a matter of time before she ripped the metaphorical Band-Aid off completely.

  I swallowed hard, pulling her closer. If this was the last time we got to hang out, just us, I wanted to take advantage of it. I wanted to stay up until three in the morning and talk about everything and nothing, just to get it all said before we lost touch.

  Leaning over, I pressed my lips the side of her head. “I’m going to miss you.”

  She looked up at me and when our eyes met my heart flipped inside my chest. It did that a lot lately. Just like my thoughts had revolved around her lips and our history.

  I could blame my prolonged singleness. Since Cassy and I broke up after graduation, there hadn’t been anyone else. Honeybee was one of the few females I spent time with, it made sense that I’d start wondering about her more. Sitting on a rooftop alone with her probably didn’t help either. It was like being in the tree house after graduation.