Hello, Handsome

by H, Caity

  “Seriously, though. What’d you do to get put on defense?” I asked.

  He glanced sideways and shook his head. “You really have to ask?”

  “Is he still mad at you for the fight in the locker room?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Enough time had passed that I’d assumed he’d be done punishing us by now. I was in the clear, as far as I knew. But Ty was still in the doghouse. Why?

  Ty didn’t spare me a glance as he replied, eyes trained on the guys down the field with the ball. “Upperclassman, Lex. When I screw up, I pay for it longer. Keeps everyone else in line.”

  I almost felt guilty.

  The other team stole the ball and started making their way down the field toward us. We rolled into position, mids keeping up with the opposing offense.

  Ty dashed forward, quickly taking the ball from a red shirt and passing it off to our mids. The other guy and I didn’t even have the chance to move before the ball was already back on the other side of the field.

  “For what it’s worth,” I said, when Ty was near enough to hear me again. “I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have been punished longer. But I shouldn’t have hit him, or provoked him the way I had.

  I’d just snapped.

  He glanced at me and shook his head, eyes rolling. “You’re probably just saying that because now your girl’s free.”

  I didn’t have time to reply when the ball came down our side of the field. They took it to the left and I followed closely to the elite I was against.

  Ty slid, shooting the ball out from between the other guy’s feet. There was a collision of legs as a few people fell and then the sharp sound of a foot connecting to the ball.

  I turned quickly to see Pete had the ball. He passed it off to me when he got the chance and I took it farther up field, leaving the offensive several feet behind me.

  A hard kick sent the ball up to the mids and then I fell back to my position, pausing near Ty.

  “What do you mean she’s free?” I asked, resting my hands on my hips.

  Our team scored and there were a few hollers.

  “I’m not into drama,” Ty said, “and that’s exactly what is going on between you two.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I frowned, glancing toward the field in front of us. The ball was being put back into play.

  It wasn’t all drama was it?

  “So, what does that mean?”

  A groan sounded and I turned to see Ty walking closer. “What do you think it means?” he muttered. “Don’t hit me for saying so, but she’s not worth the teenage angst that I’m getting from the two of you.” He smirked and stepped away again. “I’m not that desperate for love.”

  “You broke up?”

  “Don’t sound so excited, Diamond.”

  I had been trying not to, but if they were done it meant maybe I could ask her on a date without feeling like a jerk. This could’ve been our shot to explore the possibility of an us.

  First I had to get her to talk to me, though.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you herself,” he continued, prepping to meet the forwards currently charging our way. “Maybe she had another guy on the side already.” He grinned and moved ahead, but I was stuck in place.

  What if she hadn’t told me because we were really over? What if Desmond’s prediction had come true and she was done with me for good?

  I felt sick.

  ***

  After practice, I decided to bite the bullet and go talk to her. She hadn’t been answering my text messages anyways, so I went straight to her dorm.

  I jogged up the steps, water droplets still falling from my recently showered hair.

  If I remembered correctly, she’d be done with classes for the day. Hopefully that meant she’d be in her dorm room. Alone, if I was lucky. We didn’t need an audience.

  Taking a deep breath, and running a hand quickly through my hair, I knocked on the door twice before I could chicken out. Part of me was afraid she’d call security, or one of her floor mates would. I wasn’t entirely sure what their rules were about guys being in the dorm.

  The girl who had let me in seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal once I’d told her I was meeting a friend. If I got in trouble hopefully people in charge, or security officers, would understand that my best friend in the whole world, the same person that I had feelings for, wasn’t talking to me. Invading her dorm was my only option.

  The door opened and relief flooded me when I saw that it was Honeybee. She jolted, eyes widening. Her hair was piled on top of her head, bright blue frames resting on her nose. She looked like a college student, she even had a sweater with the school’s letters on the front.

  She looked as perfect as ever, and when my stomach flipped I didn’t feel guilty about it, the first time in a long time.

  “Lex, what are you doing here?” she asked, glancing around like she was waiting for someone else to pop up.

  The smile on my face wasn’t reciprocated. I cleared my throat, looking away a moment before I said, “My best friend isn’t talking to me, and I needed to fix that.”

  She sighed and leaned against the door, which was opened maybe six inches. “There’s probably a reason she isn’t talking to you.”

  Obviously.

  “I’m not a fan of you just showing up here unannounced,” she murmured, not meeting my gaze.

  A smirk crossed my lips. “Well, I would’ve announced it. But,” I paused and pulled my phone from my pocket, “you’re not answering. I thought it would be pointless.”

  “What do you want?” she asked. “I’ve got two essays I need to finish and submit tonight.”

  I didn’t buy it. She was a good student, any essays due in the next few hours would’ve been done already.

  Crossing my arms, I said, “I’m sorry, Bee.” If there was ever going to be a chance for us in the future, I needed to fix the friendship I’d broken so many times. “I know I screwed up, and I’m sorry. I guess…I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to…” leave me like I left you all those times. “I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking. But, I’m sorry.”

  There were a few moments of silence that felt like hours.

  Finally, she said, “Ty broke up with me.” She frowned at her feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

  I grimaced. It was my fault. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved, or reacted the way I did. I crossed a line.” It wasn’t until those feelings came rushing back again that I realized what my true motivations for crossing the line had always been. My heart knew things my brain couldn’t process, and it made me do stupid stuff.

  “You did,” she agreed and met my gaze. “And I hate that I’m not even that mad at you about it.”

  I bit back a grin. “You’re not?”

  She shook her head. “We only went out on a few dates.” A shrug rolled over her shoulders. Then her eyes hardened and she looked up at me. “The thing I’m most angry about is that you don’t trust me with my own heart.”

  In my defense, she was still kind of naïve about relationships. But, I hadn’t helped her out any by glaring down anyone who might’ve wanted to take her out on a date during high school.

  “I’m not a child,” she said. “You can’t keep acting like some big hero, okay? Let me live my life.” A sigh brushed a few strands of loose hair over her glasses. Without thinking I reached forward and pushed them back, pausing when my fingers brushed her cheeks.

  Her eyes widened and we stood there in awkward silence for what felt like hours, but was probably a few seconds.

  Clearing my throat, I pulled back and stuck my hands in my pockets. “I’m sorry, Olivia. Really, I never meant to try and control you.” My eyes closed a moment. “I just… I really care about you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “And as much as I appreciate that, I can take care of myself.” I watched her eyes meet mine. “I hate when we don’t talk, Lex. But, you need to realize that I’m going to make my own decisions. You dated plenty of people in high sch
ool that I wouldn’t have approved of. Eventually, you figured it out for yourself that they weren’t the right person.”

  Because she was.

  “And you need to give me that, too,” she murmured. “Trust that I know what’s best for me, okay?”

  What if I wasn’t best for her? What if she’d already realized that, moved on because of it? The idea sent a shockwave over my heart and it took me a few seconds to recover enough to nod.

  “Sure,” I answered, clearing my throat. “No more advice or backseat driving…”

  She smirked and pushing through the door enough to punch me on the shoulder. “You can still do those things, just, limit yourself.” She sighed. “Cause, even though I want to figure it out on my own, friendly, nonintrusive, advice is always acceptable.”

  I nodded my head. “Nonintrusive, got it.” I forced a smile. “So, we’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I think we are,” she replied. “Now, please. I really do have to finish some essays.”

  I laughed, and the sound echoed down the hallway. “Okay, I’ll get going.” I bit my lip, glancing at her mouth. Kissing her was out of the question, for now. Maybe soon. Hopefully soon. “I’ll see ya.”

  She waved and shut the door.

  I exhaled and left the dorm building I would figure out how to be nonintrusive later. I’d also figure out how long was a good amount of time to wait before I told her how I felt and risked our friendship. Again.

  But this time would be different.

  Nineteen: Shady Shoppers

  I followed Honeybee around the grocery store like a lost puppy. Why did she have to go midnight shopping? The woman could never do anything at normal people hours. During our first few years of junior high, if she didn’t get her homework done early in the evenings, she’d set her alarm to wake up a few hours before school. Like most pre-teens our age, I stayed up late doing homework, because that was what normal people did.

  There were just some things about her that I just didn’t understand, our current situation being one of them.

  “Are you almost done?” I asked, glancing around the store. We were practically alone in the place. Throughout our time shopping I’d only seen a few other patrons.

  Places like this freaked me out, which was why I tended to shop in daylight. All the creeps came out at night. The fact she’d almost gone out by herself was unnerving. How often did she put herself into dangerous situations, and why didn’t her mom train her better? Weren’t mother’s supposed to be overbearing when it came to safety precautions? I knew mine was. She called weekly to make sure I wasn’t overdoing it in soccer practice.

  “You didn’t have to come with me,” she murmured, turning back to the row of Poptarts in front of her. We’d been standing in that aisle for at least ten minutes and she’d yet to pick anything out.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? Because letting you come alone to a second hand murder shop was a good idea?” She slapped my arm with a smirk. “It’s true!” I groaned. The only thing that was missing was a guy with an ax and a hockey mask.

  “I don’t like shopping when there are loads of people around. They make me feel rushed.”

  Seriously?

  Rolling my eyes, I picked a box of Poptarts at random and tossed them in her basket, putting my hands on her shoulders and physically escorting her away from the section. “Consider yourself rushed.”

  “Lex!” she tried to turn back, bringing a smirk to my lips. It was so cute when she tried to protest. But she was wasting her time. We were leaving the creepy store, even if I had to feed her from vending machines.

  “We’re going.”

  “I’m not done shopping,” she said, pulling out of my grasp. She turned sharply, our bodies almost colliding. Her hand hit my chest to stop herself. “I only have salsa and Poptarts in my basket. That’s not a very diverse meal plan.”

  “I have crackers and a pizza. I’m sure if we shared we’d come up with a great meal plan,” my reply came sharper than I’d meant.

  “Desmond ate that pizza two days ago,” she deadpanned.

  That thief.

  Groaning, I slid my hands into my pockets. “Well, why do you even need food? You have a meal plan.” We both did, so I didn’t know why she was so into shopping late at night.

  “I can’t survive college without the essential snacks. Now, come on.” She looped her arm through mine and continued walking.

  Occasionally she’d throw something into her basket. For wanting a great meal plan, she was mainly sticking with cheap and easy food. Noodles? Check. Chips and salsa? Check. Poptarts? Check. With that, she seemed to think she had breakfast, lunch and dinner covered. Oliva Rayne Martin’s logic did not make any sense to me.

  “Are we done yet?” I mumbled, purposefully dragging my feet with each step. She laughed, that cute little grin of hers lighting up her eyes. The stupid organ in my chest always skipped a few beats when she looked that cute.

  Honeybee grabbed a box of candy. “Can I get a drink first?”

  “Only if you get me one, too,” I replied. She nodded, racing off to go get drinks.

  A little bell rang as the first patron I’d seen during our time in the store walked inside. He was close to my age, headphones turned up loud enough to hear across the store. He was either deaf, or he wanted to be.

  Turning away, I watched for Honeybee. If she wasn’t back in fifteen seconds I would go looking for her.

  I was six seconds away from running around the store and shouting like a madman when she appeared. She ruined all my fun.

  There was one drink inside the basket, the other in hand.

  Humming, she walked toward the register. “Where’s my thanks?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I got you a drink and everything.”

  “You’ll receive my thanks when we’re back at the dorms,” I told her as we got into the line.

  The guy who’d come inside was ahead of us, a magazine in his hands. It seemed like an odd thing to buy at midnight, but who was I to judge? We came to buy Poptarts and chips. Our standards for shopping weren’t very high.

  There was only one register open, run by a little old lady. It was odd that she’d be the one at the store so late. She reminded me of my grandma, curly white hair and kind eyes. She smiled at the guy in front of us, ringing up the magazine.

  “Can I get a pack of cigs?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

  “I’ll need to see your I.D, sweetie,” the woman said, glancing back at and smiling politely at me and Honeybee. I smiled back.

  “I don’t have it with me,” he said, wiping his sleeve against his nose. “I’m over eighteen, honest.”

  She gave him a small smile, eyebrows crinkling. “I’m sorry, hon. But I can’t sell you cigarettes unless you have proof of I.D. Store policy.”

  “Cigarettes are really bad for your health, anyways,” Honeybee told him. He turned to her and something passed through his eyes as he stared at her, something I didn’t like. When I stepped closer to her, his eyes moved lazily up to meet mine. With a shaky breath, he turned back around.

  “Will there be anything else?” the checkout woman asked.

  Nodding, the guy reached for his back pocket. “I need all the money in the register.” I resisted the urge to groan when he pulled out a pocket knife. “Now.”

  “This is why we don’t go shopping at midnight,” I muttered, turning a glare to Honeybee.

  Her body had gone stock still, my comment wasted on her. The woman behind the counter didn’t seem to appreciate the comedic timing of my comment, either.

  “Just give me the money,” he said, shifting his stance back and forth. He glanced at us, the knife moving as he turned. “Don’t you think about being heroes, alright?” his voice shook. Most robbers weren’t so afraid. This wasn’t something he did on a regular basis.

  Great, that made him unpredictable and more dangerous.

  “I don’t wanna hurt any of ya, but I will!”

  “We’re not gonna do
anything,” Honeybee said, putting her hands up. I moved to stop her, but before I could the guy grabbed one of her outstretched hands, yanking her to him. She screamed, and my stomach lurched.

  No. He couldn’t hurt her.

  “Come on, man. Let her go, she wasn’t trying to do anything,” I said, my mind whirling at a hundred miles an hour to find a solution. How was I supposed to protect her? I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t trained.

  Honeybee met my eyes, her eyes wide as saucers. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but I couldn’t seem to make the words come out.

  “Don’t come any closer!” he pressed the knife tighter to her ribcage. Honeybee whimpered. If he hurt her, it would be the last thing he ever did.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said evenly, fists clenching.

  “I’ve got nothing to lose. Your girlfriend on the other hand, she does,” he threatened.

  She cringed, tears gathering in her eyes.

  Every muscle in my body was tight, coiled and ready to explode, to fight for the girl I’d grown up next to. I had to do something. But what?

  “Just give me the money. No one needs to get hurt.”

  In the distance, sirens could be heard and my heart dropped. All eyes turned to the woman behind the cashier.

  She’d flattened herself against the wall, putting as much distance between herself and the guy as she could.

  While he’d been threatening Honeybee, she must’ve pushed an alarm button.

  “The cops are gonna be here any minute,” I told him, trying to keep my voice calm. “You might as well give yourself over calmly. You won’t get into as much trouble.”

  He sat there for a few seconds, wildly looking around for some kind of exit plan. Finally, he groaned and shoved Honeybee away, taking off through the back of the store.

  I caught her in my arms, hugging her close. That was when I felt it, the thing protruding from her stomach. My breathing became more rapid and I felt faint. Pulling back, I saw that Honeybee looked similar, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t look,” I whispered too late.

  “L-Lex,” she faltered, her eyes glued to the knife in her side. Her knees gave out and I barely caught her before she hit the floor.